But soon enough, for reasons unknown, the pink tint on the tips of Ning Yan’s ears faded away. His expression shifted—devilish now, phoenix eyes narrowing, lips curling in a way that made him look downright wicked.
“You’re really that grateful to me? Then what if I asked something outrageous in return, say… a night of spring passion?”
Words like that were bound to disgust anyone. Paired with the mocking glint in Ning Yan’s eyes, he figured—was she going to cry again, maybe?
Bai Qinqing’s expression did change. Her thoughts were written all over her face, flickering through a kaleidoscope of colors before she finally drew a breath and steeled herself. “If it’s you…”
Ning Yan cut her off at once, his face returning to its usual indifference. Bai Qinqing let out a sigh of relief. As expected—he was just teasing. Such a decent man… why must he have such a mouth?
“As for your gratitude… let me ask you this. What do you call that brat Ning Zhao?”
Bai Qinqing blinked, answering instinctively, “Lord Ning, of course.” Find the newest release on novel•fire.net
A scoff escaped from Ning Yan’s nose. “I’ve never liked being lumped in with others.”
“Then, what should I call you?”
“You figure it out. Come up with something I’ll be satisfied with, and we’ll call the debt settled.”
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Bai Qinqing stared, stunned. “How is that fair?”
Ning Yan leaned in slightly, eyes locked onto hers, bright and round. “It’s fair because I say so. Got it? I want to be satisfied.”
With that, he didn’t wait for her response—just waved a hand behind him and walked off without looking back.
Bai Qinqing furrowed her delicate brows. Something that’ll satisfy him? That might be tricky. But… what kind of name would he find satisfying?
As Ning Yan walked off with his usual swagger, the moment his back turned to Bai Qinqing, the smile on his face vanished entirely. Even two streets away, his presence was enough to make children cry if they happened to meet his eyes.
That night, over at the estate in the east of the city, the famously refined and genteel Young Master Fanghe couldn’t help but roar in frustration again.
“Can you stop ruining my wine? I only brought a few jars! Don’t you have shelves full of imperial liquor at your manor? Saving them for New Year?”
Ning Yan drained the cup in one go and smacked his lips. “Nothing special about them. Look at you, acting like I drank your blood.”
“If it’s nothing special, why are you going through them ? Ning Yan, when will you stop dragging others down just because you’re in a foul mood?”
Pei Lingshu tucked his precious wine safely away and swapped in a jar of common brew for Ning Yan. Only then did his face return to its usual gentle elegance.
“What is it this time? I’ve never seen you so keen to drown your sorrows. Weren’t you always the one with no cares in the world?”
He suspected it had something to do with the Bai family, but he asked anyway—on purpose. Served him right.
Ning Yan shot him a cutting glare, sharp enough to draw blood, but Pei Lingshu remained unfazed. “What? Don’t want to talk about it? Didn’t you attend a banquet at the Bai residence today? Was it unpleasant, or just not satisfying enough, so you came here to keep drinking?”
Already simmering with frustration, Ning Yan snapped. With a loud crack, he hurled the wine cup across the room and raked a hand through his hair.
“She said she was grateful to me. Said even if I wanted to spend a night with her, she’d agree. She’s a young girl—does she even understand what she’s saying?”
“You’re upset because she understands, aren’t you? She said it not because she holds herself cheap, but because her gratitude for you runs deeper than her regard for herself. Isn’t that it?”