Chapter 2: A Soft Fist Tapped Against His Chest, Knocking on the Door to His Heart

The spacious car was silent. The air felt heavy.

Su Nian’s soaked clothes were dripping water, staining the backseat.

Next to her lay a set of clean clothes. Gritting her teeth, she began to undress her wet garments right in front of Zhou Beiming.

Zhou Beiming leaned his elbow against the window, tilting his head to glance at Su Nian. In his wild, unruly eyes, desire was blatantly apparent.

Her heart pounded with nerves. Every movement she made was stiff and clumsy.

“Pfft…” Zhou Beiming lowered his head slightly, chuckling with clear mischief.

Suddenly, he caught her trembling hand and began to toy with it. Each of her fingers was slender and soft, like cotton.

His fingers were long. Measuring hers against his own, he asked lazily, “Do I take the lead, or do you?”

Su Nian kept her head lowered. All her past hopes in life had stemmed from her feelings for Gu Yincheng.

She had once believed he was different. But now, her love had been thrown into the gutter.

She could smell the rot clinging to her—perhaps the stench of a broken heart.

When a heart dies, nothing else matters.

Su Nian bit her lip. “About my father’s situation…”

Her words trailed off.

Zhou Beiming was straightforward. “Easy. Be with me, and I won’t ask about the past. President Su remains President Su. The Su heiress stays the Su heiress.”

Su Nian looked at their joined hands. His palm, initially cool, was now gradually warming, growing hot.

It was said that Zhou Beiming was the most dangerous man in Yucheng—and the one with the most scandals.

With one hand, she unfastened the clasp of her bra. The thin fabric slid down her shoulder.

One night.

Zhou Beiming was nothing short of wicked.

As dawn broke, the rain had stopped, and the skies cleared—vast and serene.

Su Nian lay limp on top of Zhou Beiming like a lifeless accessory.

His white shirt was stained with a trace of blood.

A wicked smile tugged at his lips as he traced her lips with the pads of his fingers, warm and teasing.

Her lips were flushed—his handiwork.

Still unsatisfied, he bent down again, tugging gently at the reddened spot, savoring another rough kiss.

Su Nian was gasping when he finally let go. In a husky, teasing tone, he asked, “First time here too?”

He was referring to the kiss—but also to being her first man.

She had no experience in any aspect. He could tell.

Su Nian responded weakly, “You said… you wouldn’t ask about the past.”

Zhou Beiming clicked his tongue, the air around him roguish. “Oh? Did I? I forgot.”

He smiled faintly, saying no more.

Two years later, the much-ridiculed Su Fu Group rose from the ashes.

Everyone thought it was a final flare before collapse—until news spread of a partnership between Su Fu Group and Boyao to develop new energy sources.

Behind Boyao stood Yongtai Group, and Yongtai was controlled by Zhou Beiming.

Everyone knew Zhou Beiming played by no rules. But this move? It seemed too reckless even for him.

Su Fu Group had just undergone a major audit, uncovering serious internal problems.

At the Su family home, Su Nian was packing her things.

Her younger sister, Su Feixiao, walked over with her phone. “Jie, is this the guy working with Dad? He’s linked to five women at once in these rumors. Isn’t he afraid of catching something?”

Su Nian glanced at the phone Su Feixiao held out.

In the photos, Zhou Beiming had his arm around a starlet’s waist in one shot, and his hand on a young model’s shoulder in another.

His lust was no secret in Yucheng.

But Su Nian knew more—he was never more dangerous than when in bed.

She changed the subject. “No school today?”

Su Feixiao was her stepmother’s daughter, six years younger, and currently a senior in high school.

Because Su Nian had been living elsewhere, her stepmother wanted to convert her room into Feixiao’s art studio—a not-so-subtle way of kicking her out.

Today, she’d come to move her things.

Su Feixiao beamed. “Took the day off. Yincheng-ge is coming back from abroad. I want to pick him up. Jie, want to come?”

The mention of that name brought a dull ache to Su Nian’s chest.

They hadn’t spoken in two years.

Feixiao had long confessed to having a crush on Gu Yincheng and used to rope Su Nian into helping pick out gifts for him.

Su Nian shook her head. “No, I’ve got something else.”

She checked the time on her phone. Zhou Beiming had invited her to dinner.

He’d probably been busy handling his five rumored girlfriends—he hadn’t contacted her in half a month.

The restaurant was a forty-minute drive away.

She didn’t have many belongings—just one suitcase.

Dragging the suitcase along, she told Su Feixiao, “I’m heading out.”

Say hi to Yincheng-ge for me…

The thought arose but she swallowed it back.

No need to embarrass herself.

Besides, even now, the incident from two years ago was still a joke to others.

People who had attended that party often made jokes about her writing love letters—or even asked her to build them robotic dogs like the one she had made.

Su Feixiao was still young and didn’t mix with those people, so she knew nothing about it.

At the revolving restaurant.

Zhou Beiming hadn’t arrived yet. Su Nian took a seat and ordered their food.

She still remembered his preferences.

After placing the order, she went to the restroom—and there, she ran into one of Zhou Beiming’s rumored lovers: the actress Ye Wanzhen.

She had a delicate, pitiful beauty, often cast in tragic roles.

The woman next to her looked at Ye Wanzhen with envy. “You look radiant lately. Is it because President Zhou’s been nourishing you?”

Ye Wanzhen blushed coyly. “Don’t bring him up. Seven times a night—he’s exhausting.”

Her eyes gleamed with smug satisfaction.

Being associated with Zhou Beiming meant instant elevation in their circle.

Su Nian pretended not to hear.

She had known what kind of man Zhou Beiming was long before getting involved with him.

Wild and promiscuous—changing women as easily as changing clothes.

At the time, her father had knelt before her, pleading with her to agree to be Zhou Beiming’s mistress.

The company, in the end, mattered more than his daughter.

But it had been her choice too.

Su Fu didn’t just belong to her father—it had been her mother’s as well.

As long as Su Fu existed, her mother would occasionally come back to visit.

A child always longs for a mother’s love. Even as she grew up, that little girl still huddled inside Su Nian, a hidden wound that never healed.

She hadn’t wanted to become a child nobody wanted.

As Su Nian brushed past Ye Wanzhen, she heard a cool, faint chuckle behind her. “Miss Ye flatters me.”

Zhou Beiming had arrived.

She heard the tapping of Ye Wanzhen’s heels as she hurried over—likely to greet him.

Su Nian had no interest in listening to Zhou Beiming flirt with other women. She went into the restroom.

When she came out, she spotted Zhou Beiming leaning against a blue wall, staring at the grayish-white floor in thought.

Her only request had been to keep their relationship out of the public eye.

Right now, they looked like strangers.

A few people passed by here and there.

Suddenly, Zhou Beiming hooked his pinky around hers.

Startled, Su Nian clenched her hand reflexively—grabbing his finger in the process.

Zhou Beiming kicked open the emergency exit door and pulled her inside, pinning her between the wall and his body. “Did you miss me?”

His lips brushed against hers, teasing but gentle.

She had thought of him—if only hoping he’d forget her. But he had remembered this plaything of his.

She said nothing, only stared nervously at him, fearing he might take things too far, anywhere, anytime.

The fierce kiss descended before she could react. She hadn’t escaped after all.

Su Nian couldn’t handle it—he nearly drained her dry.

In the stairwell, it was too quiet. Their breathless gasps echoed freely.

A curious janitor peeked up from the lower floor and caught sight of their passionate entanglement. She cleared her throat awkwardly.

Su Nian jumped in fright, clutching Zhou Beiming’s black shirt and burying herself in his chest.

One hand in his pocket, the other gripping Su Nian’s soft waist, Zhou Beiming clicked his tongue disapprovingly above her head.

He didn’t spare the janitor a direct look. Eyes lowered, he glanced impatiently down the stairs. “My little bunny scares easily. Why frighten her? Sick of your long tenure already?”

He sounded indifferent and reckless.

The janitor saw clearly who he was—Zhou Beiming.

Offending him was no different from offending the King of Hell.

She cursed her own throat for causing trouble and stammered, “I’m sorry, Mr. Zhou. I’m just a cleaner. Please don’t take it to heart.”

Zhou Beiming wasn’t interested in reasoning. “Clean up, and then find another…”

Job!

Before he finished, a soft fist punched him twice in the chest—knocking right on the door to his heart.