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Chapter 1: Draining His Vital Energy
“Qianqian, are you drunk?”
Ye Chuchu helped Shu Qian out, her face full of concern.
Last night, a farewell bachelorette party was held by a few of their good sisters for Shu Qian — also a party of freedom.
Shu Qian’s family had said, as long as she settled the big event of her life, from then on, she could go east and no one would force her west.
Happy about that, she drank a bit too much.
Getting drunk wasn’t a big deal; what was worrying was that Sister Qian, after drinking, would immediately turn into a drama queen.
Right now, Shu Qian had her arm around Ye Chuchu’s neck, lifting her chin with one hand, her enchanting peach blossom eyes shimmering with charm.
“Don’t worry, I’m not drunk. Tonight, I’m going to drain that little monk’s vital energy dry!”
Ye Chuchu: “……”
Drain his vital energy? Is she acting out a scene from Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio or Journey to the West?
Shu Qian’s gaze settled somewhere, her peach blossom eyes narrowed, and suddenly she smiled, “The little monk is here.”
“???”
Ye Chuchu’s heart tightened, sensing something was amiss.
Drama queen mode activated!
“What little monk? You must be seeing things. Let’s go quickly.”
But Shu Qian let go of her and staggered toward a nearby booth.
Sitting in the corner was a man wearing a hat, his temperament cold and extraordinary, giving off a pure aura untouched by worldly dust.
His long legs clad in casual pants stretched out, and under the flickering shadows of the dim lights, his bone structure was excellent, the contours smooth and flowing. Beneath thin eyelids, his deep black pupils held no warmth. The chill radiating from him formed a world of its own, tempting yet unapproachable.
Several men were chatting when they saw a woman in a bright red spaghetti strap dress approaching them.
Her long, slender legs in high heels were white and smooth; the form-fitting dress outlined a stunning, alluring figure — full curves in all the right places, every line speaking of sexy heat.
Upon seeing that face, beautiful like a peony, everyone was momentarily stunned.
“Brother Xun, isn’t this…”
Your wife.
Before the sentence finished, as Shu Qian lazily settled herself on Song Xun’s lap, everyone fell silent in surprise.
One of the nearby brothers even spat out: “WTF.”
What kind of massive public display of affection is this?
Song Xun’s eyelids lazily lowered as he looked at the absolute enchantress sitting on his lap.
His long black curly hair cascaded over his shoulders, the large patch of snowy skin catching the eye. The extreme contrast of black, white, and red, combined with a face as delicate and fresh as a lotus blossom — alluring without vulgarity — formed a visual feast.
“Do I look good?” Shu Qian’s seductive eyes stretched into a cat’s tail, captivating.
She reached out and pulled off the black cord around his neck, revealing a white bodhi seed pendant shaped like a lotus blossom in her palm.
Song Xun seemed indifferent to the fiery scene.
His deep black eyes showed a cold detachment. He lifted his hand, grabbed the jacket lying beside him, and draped it over the woman’s legs.
Because she was sitting, her already short skirt rode up a few more inches.
“Miss Shu.”
A cold voice brushed past her ear. Shu Qian’s fair index finger pressed gently on his thin lips. “Cut!”
She pulled them closer, her voice charming and seductive. “Monk, please be professional. Call me Xiao Qian.”
After a brief pause, she smiled, stirring hearts. “So, little monk, do you want to come home with me?”
Ye Chuchu, following behind, was disheveled by the wind.
Excuse me, when did Xiao Qian ever seduce a monk?
Wasn’t she supposed to like the scholarly type?
Drama queen on full display, rewriting the script — that’s too much.
“Shu Qian’s drunk…” Ye Chuchu explained.
The others showed understanding expressions. Then, in the next moment, Shu Qian suddenly flipped off Song Xun’s black cap.
Her lustful smile froze for a moment, replaced by confusion.
The man had a buzz cut — no fancy hair at all — but it made his refined face look even more perfect.
Shu Qian murmured, “Such a big bald head?”
She clearly remembered this face; it had a bald head on top.
How did he grow hair now?
Ye Chuchu really wanted to dig a hole and bury Shu Qian in it.
Her family was embarrassed enough.
He’d been secularized for two months already. Did he still have to keep a bald head?
She was just about to pull Shu Qian away when Song Xun’s arm casually settled around Shu Qian’s waist.
“No bald head. Do you still want to come home with me?” Song Xun stared at Shu Qian, his cold voice devoid of any mundane emotion.
“Ah…”
Shu Qian paused for three seconds, confirming this face was indeed the monk she’d been looking for. She put the hat back on his head and continued the performance.
She nodded firmly, “Yes!”
This little monk was so easy to bait.
Completely reckless.
Song Xun nodded, slightly tightening his arm, effortlessly lifting the girl in his arms. The veins on his pale hand revealed a sexy strength.
As Song Xun carried Shu Qian away, everyone remained dumbfounded.
Meng Cheng was confused. “They only got the marriage certificate yesterday, and they’re already this lovey-dovey?”
Ye Chuchu was also stunned.
Wasn’t this an arranged marriage?
Why does it feel so real?
What she cared about most was how Shu Qian planned to drain Song Xun’s vital energy?
PS: A simple sweet and pampering entertainment circle story — a wealthy playboy meets a truly sickly fake monk.
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