Chapter Nineteen: A Battle of Wits and Wills (Part 2)
After everyone had left, the private room grew so quiet that the sound of He Zheyu’s footsteps approaching could be heard clearly. He stopped about thirty centimeters away from Zhao Qingwu, reached out, and took a wine glass from the table. He set it before himself, picked up the bottle of red wine beside Zhao Qingwu, poured a little, and set it down again.
Seated off to the side, Zhao Qingwu downed the last bit of red wine in his glass, then looked at He Zheyu with undisguised disdain, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. “What kind of matter is so dire that my future brother-in-law must come in person?”
A subtle shift flickered across He Zheyu’s face, barely perceptible as it tugged at his brows before vanishing. A cold smile touched his lips, and he replied coolly, “Funny, I remember you’re supposed to be my future nephew-in-law. Had a bit to drink, and now your head’s muddled?”
Zhao Qingwu’s heart skipped; in that instant, he understood why He Zheyu had sought him out. He continued, “Why is it that the men of your family are allowed to break the hearts of the women in mine, but the men in my family can’t do the same to yours? He Zheyu, if you had shown my sister even a shred of mercy, I wouldn’t have resorted to such a despicable means to hurt He Yurou.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than He Zheyu tossed the contents of his wine glass into Zhao Qingwu’s face. Caught off guard, Zhao Qingwu was momentarily stunned. Once he’d recovered, he wiped his face with his hand, then gave a rueful laugh. “Compared to the punch I gave you, this is nothing. And I’ll return your words to you: I can agree to anything—except carrying on with He Yurou.”
He Zheyu kept his gaze fixed on Zhao Qingwu; a faint, almost indifferent smile played on his lips, yet it sent a chill through the air. After a long silence, he took a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, but didn’t smoke—instead, he left it burning on the edge of the ashtray. Then, in a voice calm as ever, he said, “Not just anyone is worthy of being put in their place by me.” The words sounded mild, but each one landed like a needle in Zhao Qingwu’s chest.
Zhao Qingwu sprang up from the sofa, his face dark with anger, struggling for words. “He Zheyu, don’t go too far.”
He Zheyu remained lounging on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other, reclining with a roguish smile. “If you think this is too much, there’s worse to come. For instance, the woman you desire just happens to be mine.”
The look on Zhao Qingwu’s face grew even more ashen. The fury he’d been suppressing ignited in an instant, and he growled, “How can it be you? What vile tricks did you use to make her submit to you?”
Before Zhao Qingwu could say more, He Zheyu slowly rose from his seat, glanced at the man before him, now nearly out of control, and said, “I have no need for tricks—she was mine from the start. So I’m asking you to stay away from her. Don’t pester her again. If there’s a next time, my warning won’t be so simple.”
When he finished, both men locked eyes, cold hostility filling the room.
Zhao Qingwu said, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell my sister, or your family?”
A faint smile curved He Zheyu’s lips. “I know you won’t. You and I—we’re the same kind of people.”
“So sure of yourself, are you?”