Chapter 1: Encountering a Tough Nut to Crack

The night was deep, the moon itself hidden behind thick clouds, yet a certain upscale club in Haizhou still blazed with neon lights.

Standing before the door of a lavish VIP suite, Delin hesitated, tugging nervously at the hem of a skirt so short it barely covered her thighs. At last, as if steeling herself for battle, she pushed the door open.

Inside, it was another world, one of decadence and excess. The eyes of every man in the room landed on Delin, lingering hungrily on her exposed pale skin and graceful curves.

“Nice shape,” someone commented.

“Fresh face? She looks a bit green.”

“Green is good—so fresh.”

The explicit remarks made Delin frown uneasily. Her gaze swept the room, a kaleidoscope of shadows and neon, men and women lounging in groups. At the center of it all sat Ye Hongxiao.

A cigarette dangled from his lips, his handsome features marked by a certain nonchalance, his posture languid and indifferent. At his side leaned a voluptuous beauty, draping herself over him with desperate allure, nearly pressing her ample cleavage into his face.

But the man seemed oblivious, casting only a fleeting glance around; with that, the crude voices fell silent.

Delin tugged at her skirt, drawing a deep breath. Balancing on impossibly high heels, her scant dress barely concealing her, every step felt like an ordeal, as though she were being stripped of dignity with each movement.

Ye Hongxiao noticed her slow approach, his brow furrowing and lips curving down in growing impatience.

Delin told herself again: It’s just business, nothing to be ashamed of.

She reminded herself she was here to negotiate with Ye Hongxiao. Seeking his cooperation, she had to humble herself.

This thought steadied her nerves. She sat beside him, picked up a glass, and offered it to him with a calm, poised air. “A toast to you.”

With that, she threw back the drink in one swallow.

Ye Hongxiao took a drag of his cigarette, inhaling the smoke and exhaling slowly before allowing a mocking smile to touch his lips. “Miss De, your tolerance for alcohol has improved.”

The words nearly caught Delin in the throat. He, of all people, knew she was allergic to alcohol and never touched a drop.

She steeled herself and downed two more shots in quick succession—an act of both attitude and resolve.

Ye Hongxiao’s brows knit together, but at last he lifted his own glass.

Relief washed over her, but before she could settle, his cool voice sounded again, “I’ve never been one for business talk over drinks. If you’re here to have fun, by all means stay. If it’s work you want, suit yourself.”

Laughter erupted in the suite.

Delin fell silent. She knew his intentions were deliberate.

“In that case…” She shot a meaningful glance at the woman clinging to Ye Hongxiao, leaned forward, and tapped her business card on the table. “I won’t disturb your evening any longer, Mr. Ye. I’ll wait for your call.”

Ye Hongxiao arched a brow but made no move to stop her, though as she neared the door, his gaze turned suddenly cold.

She really was the object of his ire.

Delin had just reached for the handle when something came flying at her, followed by the sharp crash of breaking glass.

Shards exploded at her feet—a glass thrown in anger.

She closed her eyes, pretending not to hear, and forced herself to leave, turning down the hall to the restroom.

Staring into the mirror at the unfamiliar clothes and makeup, Delin finally let her guard drop. She snatched a tissue and wiped away the garish lipstick in frustration.

Ye Hongxiao was, indeed, a hard man to move.