Chapter 126: Watching the Horse Race

Zhong Huayan looked at the wine brought over by the servant. At the bottom of the bottle, there was still some damp earth, but as she leaned closer, a strong scent of gardenia blossomed in the air. This was not wine brewed with mulberries or other fruits—it was made from flowers.

The servant poured it into a glass for her, and the color that flowed out was an unusual pale blue-pink, vastly different from ordinary fruit juice.

“Ah Huayan, want to try it?” Fu Yanyan’s eyes shimmered with affection. This was not just wine; it embodied his secret obsession over the past decade, and the deep longing that had consumed him for three years.

This wine had been buried long ago as a form of revenge for her.

He had originally thought that if the day came when she still hadn’t awakened, she could drink this wine, sever all worldly fame and fortune, and depart this life with a smile, free from grudges and vengeance. Who would have guessed that fate would be so cruel, to toy with all love, hate, anger, and desire within his grasp?

“The wine starts off bitter, then turns slightly astringent, but strangely, the lingering sweetness at the end is intensely passionate. Though the fragrance is gardenia, the taste does not reveal its essence; instead, it carries a familiar fruity flavor, natural and rich, which is surprisingly refreshing. It even has a bit of a sobering effect.”

Fu Yanyan was just about to pour himself some when he heard Guan Yujing next to him stretch out his glass with a low chuckle.

“Better to share the joy than to enjoy it alone. I’ve never tasted wine personally brewed by President Fu.”

Clearly unwilling to share, Fu Yanyan feigned deafness and passed another bottle instead.

“Tsk, my secretary wants to try too—the pink one.”

Guan Yujing and the secretary both looked on eagerly, captivated by the strange yet alluring aroma of the wine.

Zhong Huayan couldn’t resist the secretary’s sweet expression and, feeling a pang of sympathy, impulsively picked up the wine jar to pour a cup each for them.

“It’s nothing. When you get back, I’ll brew some for you.”

Fu Yanyan, initially sulking with his usual cold demeanor, darkened further. But upon hearing her words, it was as if rain gave way to a rainbow—his entire being softened instantly, and he deliberately squeezed her elbow. As a boy, he had often secretly drunk wine brewed by his sister; it was a cure for sorrow, a single sip could erase all troubles. Because it was so strong, he had choked many times at the start.

“In foreign lands, wines rarely carry such a fragrance. Our wines usually bear a fiery spirit, but this one is rich with floral aroma. Like Chinese culture—ancient and profound—it doesn’t overwhelm the tongue quickly like foreign wines but leaves a lasting aftertaste. This wine must be well-preserved in nature, authentically fresh and smooth to drink, yet with a strong finish.”

Guan Yujing’s face flushed easily with alcohol; after just a few sips, his face grew hot. By the end, he began removing his shirt.

Atop his collarbone, at least eight bone pins were visible. His physique was exceptionally streamlined, even muscular and lean. Such contours were clearly not from manual labor but rather years of training and extreme sports.

So far, Zhong Huayan thought Guan Yujing was still normal—nothing like the rumored pervert. Except for the first day they met, when he accidentally burned a model's neck with a cigarette butt, the secretary’s wrist injuries, and his unusual collarbone pins, he seemed relatively civilized.

At least he was far better than Xu Yaochuan, who was openly murderous, always cursing and speaking of blood.

This man was calm and unhurried, never panicking no matter the situation. Though also in his thirties, he gave off a youthful mindset.

Were the rumors wrong, or was he just hiding his true self well?

After several rounds of wine, everyone began acting strangely. Beneath the polished surfaces of these high officials and nobles, hidden sides emerged. Luckily, the secretaries nearby were quick to intervene.

In terms of alcohol tolerance, Fu Yanyan and Guan Yujing were formidable.

One remained expressionless and silent, drinking steadily without showing signs of intoxication.

The other flushed easily but grew more lively and excited with each drink, his deep blue pupils sparkling under the light—intoxicated but not drunk.

Zhong Huayan dared not drink much, fearing she might faint given her delicate constitution.

“Let’s go to the racetrack now! Time to settle this once and for all! I have wine stains on me; I’ll go wash up. You all go ahead, I’ll catch up soon,” Guan Yujing said casually, wiping his abs with a piece of paper before downing the last glass in one gulp.

Hearing this, the whole room eagerly urged them to drink one more cup.

Many onlookers wanted to follow; the duel between these two business prodigies was not to be underestimated. Though the horse race’s rules were simple, if one competitor was vastly superior, defeat was inevitable.

The old master was straightforward and blunt—pouring billions of investment without analyzing pros and cons, all hinged on a small horse race to determine victory or loss.

Fu Yanyan was composed and unhurried. With the servant’s help, he put on his coat and walked over to the woman, gently pinching her rosy cheeks.

“Ah Huayan, at the racetrack later, someone will prepare a late-night meal for you. I’ll go and snatch the business and come back.”

“Okay, be safe.”

Fu Yanyan felt his heart tremble—this unexpected flutter stirred by the care of his beloved. He resigned himself; perhaps in this lifetime, he was destined to fall for her. No matter how many perilous situations he faced, his heart never quivered—except when he was with her. The more he looked at her, the more she seemed a treasure of the world, an endless sight he wished to carry with him always.

With that thought, he bent down and gently bit her plump cheek.

“Fu Yanyan, are you a dog? Biting people now?”

“I belong to you, your little dog. Master.”

His low whisper flushed her face crimson.

This dog-like man’s words when aroused were too sultry... too sultry... Awkward phrases, yet from his voice, features, and physique, they sent a thrill deep to the bone.

“Ah Huayan, do you want me to carry you?”

Zhong Huayan snapped back to reality. There was no way she would let him carry her in front of everyone and then go to the racetrack.

“No, I’m not drunk yet—I can walk.”

By the time the group arrived at the racetrack, it was nearly eleven o’clock. Because of the distinguished guests, the owner had turned on all the lights. Instantly, the entire racetrack was illuminated, enhancing its vastness.

Such a large indoor racetrack, lit so brightly at night, was undoubtedly a costly endeavor. But this group controlled about seventy percent of the local economy, including some officials who came to watch the spectacle—networking at this level was invaluable.

Zhong Huayan rose and stood near the second-floor viewing area, holding a yogurt known for its sobering qualities.