Ying Ni certainly didn’t comply with his wishes. She had always been the one threatening others, never the one being threatened.

Without much thought, she pressed her hands against the table, poised to jump, attempting to vault over the booth.

The slit in her fitted skirt extended up to her thigh, revealing a glimpse of smooth skin wrapped in black stockings, narrowing from a wider opening at the bottom.

More and more men gathered to watch, forcing Chen An to suppress the hint of dominance that had just begun to surface.

“Forget it.” He lowered his hand, stepped forward, and casually stuffed his phone back into his pocket, blocking the lecherous gazes directed at her.

Hearing his voice, Ying Ni turned back. At that moment, her tailbone was already perched on the table’s edge. Her hands were supporting her at her waist, and one of her seven-centimeter heels was slipping off. The artificial diamond embedded in the surface of the shoe swayed along with her delicate ankle right in front of Chen An’s eyes.

“Get down,” Chen An said.

His voice was somewhat cold, but upon closer listening, it carried more helplessness than anything else.

Ying Ni raised her chin, taking on the stance of a victorious negotiator. “Leave now, and stop interfering with my work.”

The air grew stifling, thick with tension. The two remained locked in silent confrontation, though no one could tell what they were truly at odds over.

After a brief pause, Chen An glanced at his watch as if he had something urgent to attend to. “Be careful with your skirt,” he said before turning and walking away.

Ying Ni only put her heel back on once his figure completely disappeared from view. When she jumped down, Lily and the others immediately swarmed her like a group of gossip-hungry reporters chasing celebrity scandals.

“Was that Chen An?”

“Isn’t he the CEO of Chuangyuan?”

“How do you know each other?”

Ying Ni didn’t respond. She kept a straight face, brushed off the hands grabbing her shoulders, and walked into a bathroom stall, locking the door behind her. She pulled out a cigarette and bit down on it.

Just as the smoke started curling up, before she could even make sense of Chen An’s sudden appearance, her phone rang.

The caller was her cousin, He Ruoyi.

Ying Ni usually didn’t answer calls from relatives. Nine times out of ten, they were demanding money; the remaining one was a drunken rant cursing her entire family to hell.

But He Ruoyi was different. They had always had a good relationship. After the incident, despite just graduating and barely making ends meet, He Ruoyi had secretly tried to help her.

Ying Ni stubbed out the cigarette, closed the toilet lid, and reluctantly answered the call.

“Meimei, how’s Auntie doing?” He Ruoyi asked.

Ying Ni crossed her legs. “Not great, but not dead either.”

“I didn’t know she had surgery. I only heard from my mom today…” He Ruoyi rambled on, explaining how she had been working in Linxi and rarely returned home. Last week, she left her job at a big company for a smaller one, now working near home.

The luxurious decor of the Wanlika Club extended even to the bathroom. Ying Ni gazed up at the high, ornately carved ceiling, absentmindedly responding as they talked.

When the conversation turned to visiting Lin Rongyuan at the hospital that weekend, He Ruoyi suddenly hesitated.

“Meimei, um…” She faltered as if struggling to speak.

Ying Ni put her foot down. “Just say it.”

There was a two-second pause before He Ruoyi finally spoke. “Are you doing okay financially?”

Ying Ni wasn’t surprised. She twirled a strand of hair, checking for split ends. “Your dad drinking again?”

He Ruoyi’s father, He Zhiqiang, had always been a heavy drinker. After a failed investment, he completely succumbed to alcoholism. Whenever he got drunk, he forced his wife and daughter to call people for money.

The He family had suffered the worst financial losses among their relatives.

Years ago, Ying Junyu, out of respect for his elder sister, had given the idle He Zhiqiang a job as a project manager at a construction site. During those two years, He Zhiqiang made a lot of money—and embezzled quite a bit, too.

This led to jealousy among other relatives, who clamored for a share of the profits.

When the hydropower project was approved, Ying Junyu, who had no shortage of entry fees, asked relatives to invest instead. They had two options: lend money at a 15% annual interest rate or invest for a stake in the company, bearing the risk of profit or loss.

Someone argued that lending money would only yield minor interest, while owning shares could bring enormous returns.

In essence, lending was just hush money. Ying Junyu didn’t argue, as it did seem like a better deal at the time.

Nearly every relative chose the second option. Having worked on construction sites, He Zhiqiang was particularly greedy—he not only invested all his savings but also mortgaged his house and borrowed three million yuan from the bank, hoping to strike it rich.

But in the end, it was just a pipe dream. Instead of climbing out of poverty, he sank deeper into debt.

When his house and car were auctioned off, his entire family was forced into a cramped rental apartment. No longer able to bask in the prestige of being called “Boss He,” he turned his rage on his wife.

And he blamed everything on the now-deceased Ying Junyu.

Ying Ni overheard his outburst one Spring Festival, during her second year back in China, when she went to her aunt’s house to pay respects.

She heard He Zhiqiang yelling:

“Buying shrimp? Buying that crap? You damn Yings don’t deserve to eat! That coward Ying Junyu deserved to be hit by that car! If he hadn’t been, I would’ve chopped him up myself!”

Before she entered middle school, Ying Ni had often stayed at her aunt’s house during holidays, since her parents were frequently away. She had grown up playing with her cousins.

She had fond memories of He Zhiqiang as a cheerful man who used to roll on the floor to make kids laugh and always asked what she wanted to eat.

But overnight, people and relationships changed beyond recognition.

Shaken, Ying Ni quietly left, leaving the gift boxes at the door. She never stepped foot in her aunt’s house again.

Back in the present, He Ruoyi’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

“No, it’s me who needs to borrow money.”

Ying Ni stood up, straightened her skirt, and chuckled indifferently. Unlike the others, her cousin still used the word “borrow” instead of demanding it like a rightful claim.

After doing some quick calculations, subtracting medical bills, rent, and loan payments, she said, “Can you wait a week? I’ll send you 2,000 after I get paid.”

“Just 2,000…” He Ruoyi muttered, sounding dissatisfied.

Ying Ni frowned. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” He Ruoyi hesitated.

“How much do you need?”

“Thirty… thirty or forty thousand.” She hesitated again before finally sighing, “If you don’t have it, forget it.”

“Why do you need that much—”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

She hung up?