Chapter Twenty-Two: Who Do You Think You Are?

The days of summer are long; though it was already six in the evening, the sky was still bright. Wang Zheng sipped his green tea leisurely, unable to stifle a smile as he gazed at the three women before him, their cheeks flushed like blooming apricots.

“I admit, I speak rather bluntly, but there’s no need for you all to be so shy, is there? Calling you virgins is a compliment—it means you value yourselves, cherish your feelings, and haven’t been deceived. There are fewer and fewer people like you these days; you ought to be protected, like pandas,” Wang Zheng said with a grin. “Can we order now? I’ve been walking around all afternoon, used up all my energy, and I’m starving!”

His half-joking words dispelled the awkwardness. The three women pretended nonchalance, though their rosy faces betrayed them. Chu Jun pointed to the menu and ordered several dishes before the waitress left. Her delicate face was flushed, making her look even younger—she couldn’t have been twenty yet.

Since Wang Zheng’s earlier comment, Su Xue and Chu Jun spoke in much softer voices. Sometimes, they’d steal a glance at Wang Zheng across the table, then bow their heads to whisper, hiding their words. Even Su Xue, who was usually lively, had fallen uncharacteristically silent, displaying a hint of ladylike composure.

A hint? Well, for the sake of old friends, let’s say three hints.

“By the way, I heard from Bai Bing that you two are news anchors, and the news airs at six thirty. It’s already six—don’t you need to go?” Wang Zheng asked, looking at the two women.

“There are six anchors in all. Aside from me and Chu Jun, there are four others. We take turns!” Su Xue replied. As she finished, her expression suddenly changed, becoming somber. She bowed her head deeply, as if wishing she could hide it in her arms.

Wang Zheng smiled at this. He quietly shifted from his seat near the bed to one by the aisle, so that now he sat opposite Chu Jun instead of Su Xue.

“Miss Su, Miss Chu, what a coincidence! I didn’t expect to meet you here,” a voice sounded from behind Wang Zheng. Though polite, there was a hint of flippancy in its tone.

Su Xue kept her head down, ignoring the newcomer, while Chu Jun merely nodded at Cheng Minghui before studying the menu. Beneath the cover of the table, she nudged Su Xue with her hand, and Su Xue slapped her hand away. Thus began a silent battle under the table between the two women.

None of this escaped Wang Zheng’s notice. In fact, he’d chosen to sit on the outside precisely to prevent this Cheng Minghui from taking a seat.

No one paid him any heed, and Cheng Minghui stood there, awkward and ignored. Yet he was not idle; his gaze soon fell upon the man sitting opposite the two women. With his angular features and deeply tanned skin, he looked strong and robust—this was clear from the muscular arms revealed by his short-sleeved shirt. His eyes, though not large, were bright and piercing.

“And this gentleman is…?”

“Xiaoxue, I once learned palmistry from a pharaoh in Egypt. Would you like to give it a try?” Wang Zheng interrupted before Cheng Minghui could finish.

“Even Egyptian pharaohs know how to read palms? I thought that was the province of Chinese fortune-tellers!” Su Xue replied, understanding Wang Zheng’s intent with just a glance: ignore the intruder so he would lose interest and leave.

So Su Xue willingly offered her fair hand to Wang Zheng, who took it, palm up, tracing the lines with his other hand.

Cheng Minghui’s composure evaporated at the sight of another man tightly holding Su Xue’s hand. Was this palm reading? Clearly, it was just an excuse to caress her delicate hand. Cheng Minghui’s envy flared—after a month of pursuing Su Xue, he hadn’t so much as touched her hand, while this stranger was being so familiar. Outrageous!

“What do you want to know?” Wang Zheng asked, having held Su Xue’s hand quite long enough.

“My life.”

Wang Zheng pretended to study her palm before pronouncing, “In youth, you will meet benefactors, and all will go your way. But remember: your greatest enemy is yourself, your greatest failure is arrogance, the most dangerous situation is greed, the greatest debt is owed to others, and the most detestable thing is hypocrisy.”

Though he spoke to Su Xue, his words were meant for Cheng Minghui.

“Thank you for the ‘pharaoh’s’ guidance, but why does it sound like a Buddhist saying?”

“All truths lead to the same place—one world, one reason. Understand?” Wang Zheng said, glancing sidelong at Cheng Minghui. If the man had any self-awareness, he would have left by now.

But Cheng Minghui seemed deaf, his only sign of life the angry, bloodshot eyes glaring at Wang Zheng.

“Understood.”

“You’re both TV anchors; your exposure makes it inevitable that the powerful and wealthy will try to entangle you. When faced with temptation, you must learn to refuse, to keep yourselves pure. Life rushes by like water—don’t let fame and fortune weigh on your heart. Live simply and contentedly, do not force wealth and glory. Befriend those with integrity, avoid those without. Drink clear tea, not lustful wine. Open your doors to kindness, and keep your mouth from idle gossip.” This was Wang Zheng’s genuine advice to Su Xue and Chu Jun.

Before returning home, Wang Zheng never imagined Su Xue would become a news anchor. For someone barely past twenty, it was hard to believe. He’d heard much about her from Bai Bing, and couldn’t help feeling concerned, hence his heartfelt words. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have bothered.

Su Xue and Chu Jun nodded at his words.

“But…” Wang Zheng’s tone shifted, his face breaking into a grin. He lifted Su Xue’s hand, still clasped in his. “Xiaoxue’s hand is really soft.”

Bang!

Just as Wang Zheng was ‘admiring’ Su Xue’s fair hand, the chair suddenly shuddered violently, as if someone had kicked it. Cheng Minghui’s face was flushed with anger, his eyes bloodshot with rage.

“Move!” Cheng Minghui glared coldly at Wang Zheng.

The woman he wanted was having her hand caressed by another man, right in front of him. The gentlemanly mask slipped, and now every word and gesture radiated arrogance, impulsiveness, and the brashness of a spoiled heir.

“What do you think you’re doing, Cheng Minghui?” Su Xue suddenly demanded.

“At last, Miss Su speaks to me!” Cheng Minghui sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He fixed his gaze on Wang Zheng and spat out each word: “I told you to move.”

“There are plenty of people who want me gone. Who do you think you are?”