Volume One, Chapter 18: Despicable

Lu Wenzhou’s smile was a sobering one.

Jiang Wan was jerked back to reality at once.

The others, who had merely been bystanders until now, began to crowd around, drawn by Daniel’s intense reaction.

When they heard Jiang Wan’s results, Yan Yan’s expression finally softened, satisfaction evident in her gaze.

“Miss Jiang, who was your coach?” she inquired.

Now composed, Daniel let go of her and began to analyze the situation, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “I noticed your serve is rather similar to Mr. Lu’s. Were you, by any chance, taught by the same instructor?”

Daniel’s words froze the smile on Jiang Wan’s lips.

Uneasily, she stole a glance at Lu Wenzhou.

He arched an eyebrow, a subtle gleam of pride flickering in his eyes. He, too, was waiting for her answer.

“...” Jiang Wan fell silent.

“No,” she replied to Daniel. “I never took formal lessons, and I’m not well acquainted with Mr. Lu.”

“Most of what I learned before, I’ve already forgotten.”

As her words faded, the world seemed to quiet.

Where moments ago the weather had been clear, a sudden cold wind swept in.

All traces of warmth vanished from Lu Wenzhou’s eyes, leaving behind only an icy chill.

“That’s truly impressive,” Daniel remarked, seizing the chance to continue their exchange on the green.

Yan Yan was delighted by this unexpected turn.

But Jiang Wan’s subsequent performance failed to live up to the initial brilliance.

Partly because she didn’t want her technique—so like Lu Wenzhou’s—to be discovered. Partly because she hadn’t touched a golf club in two years, and her skills had noticeably dulled.

After several rounds, Daniel was exhilarated and content.

With other engagements awaiting him, their two-hour golf game had to come to an end.

Jiang Wan, who had played the entire time, was drenched in sweat.

After collecting her room card at the front desk, she made her way to the VIP lounge to wash up and change.

She pushed open the door, tossed her personal items onto the sofa, and was just about to undress when Yan Yan’s call came through.

Her clothes, damp with sweat, clung to her skin and wouldn’t come off easily. She put her phone on speaker and set it nearby.

“Jiang Wan, I have something else to attend to, so I’m heading off first.”

“I need you to summarize everything you discussed with Daniel today and send it to me in a document.”

Yan Yan issued the order briskly, not expecting refusal.

Jiang Wan was about to reply when the sound of a door opening startled her.

She spun around in alarm—only to see a tall figure stepping out of the bathroom.

Lu Wenzhou, still dripping, hadn’t bothered to dry himself off.

Wet black hair clung to his brow, beads of water tracing a path down his sharp features—over his nose, chin, throat, collarbones—down his sculpted chest and abdomen, finally absorbed by the towel slung at his waist.

Jiang Wan, caught mid-change, froze where she stood.

Her eyes widened in shock, her mind going utterly blank.

Wasn’t this supposed to be a single room?

Why was he here?

Had she entered the wrong room?

She stood motionless in confusion, while he, utterly unfazed, let his dark gaze sweep coolly over her, slippers padding quietly as he approached.

Jiang Wan instinctively stepped back, nearly crying out in alarm.

“And Lu Wenzhou,” Yan Yan’s voice continued, clearly from the phone’s speaker, “I want a full record of anything he said to Daniel as well—send it to me together.”

“...” Jiang Wan’s heart trembled.

Yan Yan, unaware of what was happening, called her name impatiently when she received no answer. “Jiang Wan?”

Collapsed onto the sofa, Jiang Wan had no choice but to gather herself.

“I understand, Mom,” she replied, striving to keep her voice even.

It was only after she agreed that Yan Yan finally hung up.

The crisis was temporarily averted.

Jiang Wan didn’t bother finishing changing—she grabbed her phone and belongings, ready to flee this dangerous place.

But before she could escape, Lu Wenzhou got there first, tossing her change of clothes onto the floor. He seized her hand and pulled her directly before him.

“Now your memory’s back?” he murmured darkly behind her.

His long arms circled her, pressing her back firmly against his chest.

Lu Wenzhou leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “Should I repeat for you what Daniel and I discussed?” His low, teasing chuckle sent a chill down her spine.

“No need,” Jiang Wan said, struggling to push him off with both arms.

But his hold was unyielding—like an iron shackle, it gave her no room to escape.

Irritated, Jiang Wan realized what was happening.

“Lu Wenzhou, you did this on purpose?!” she protested, her tone laced with anger and disgust.

She hadn’t entered the wrong room at all—it was he who had deliberately arranged for the front desk to give her his key.

“You despicable man!”

She fought to break free, making for the door.

But as soon as her hand touched the knob, he hoisted her up from behind.

Lu Wenzhou tossed her onto the bed.

Dizzy and breathless, Jiang Wan’s vision cleared to find him looming over her, gazing down.

The overhead light bathed him in a soft halo, while she lay in the shadow he cast.

“Despicable?” Lu Wenzhou gripped her wrists, his voice like ice between his teeth.

“Still better than being forgetful, isn’t it?”

His grip tightened, the air growing heavier. “Forgotten almost everything, have you?”

“Shall I help you recall... what we always did after a game?” he sneered.

“...” Jiang Wan’s heart leapt to her throat.

Scenes of heated passion surged up from the depths of her memory—waves crashing against rocks, wild and unstoppable.

“Crazy,” she spat, fighting him with all her strength. “Let go of me!”

But Lu Wenzhou was resolute.

Without giving her a chance to struggle, he bent down and kissed her, swallowing her protests and curses before they could leave her lips.

Her half-removed clothes were swiftly discarded by his hands.

In her fury, Jiang Wan bit him.

But he seemed impervious to pain; even as the taste of blood filled her mouth, he refused to loosen his grip, only pressing further.

“Lu—” she tried to call his name, but he silenced her with another kiss.

His actions spoke for him: I’m right here.

Jiang Wan trembled with anger, but was no match for him—neither in strength nor build.

The air in the room grew stifling.

Just as Jiang Wan thought she was doomed yet again, Lin Zhi’s voice rang out from beyond the door.

“Mr. Lu, it’s me.” She knocked lightly.

Her voice was like an arrow, striking Jiang Wan squarely, leaving her too stunned to move.

But the man above her took advantage of the moment to make her his.

Jiang Wan nearly whimpered aloud, unable even to push him away.

The world fell utterly silent.

No one made a sound, and Lin Zhi’s soft murmur was crystal clear.

“Hm? Why isn’t the door locked?”

As she spoke, her hand turned the knob from the outside, pushing the door open...