14 No More Noise / 14

As soon as the flight landed, Sheng Huaining instructed the driver to take the car directly back to Ming Jun by Victoria Harbour.

The sky was overcast, like a wash of ink on a painting. It looked as if rain was imminent, yet the temperature was genuinely over ten degrees warmer than inland.

Luo Zhi gave the driver and assistant the day off, choosing to accompany Sheng Huaining home herself.

Facing a large pile of gift boxes arranged in the living room, she glanced sideways at the person busy in the cloakroom in the distance. “These people really know how to curry favor—everything here is what you like.”

Sheng Huaining smoothed her skirt, a long dress woven with hues of glazed glass that shimmered like ripples as she moved alongside her.

Her two porcelain-white, tender arms passed through an oversized bow meticulously hand-stitched with gold and silver threads. She struggled a bit to put on a pair of three-dimensional rose-shaped, long tassel earrings that brushed occasionally against her bare shoulder, resembling a gentle stroke over delicate white jade porcelain, leaving a faint blush in its wake.

Upon reaching the living room, Luo Zhi’s eyes brightened in surprise. “Why didn’t you have your stylist do your makeup and hair? And your outfit is so simple.”

“Why? Don’t you think I look good?” Sheng Huaining bent slightly, surveying herself from head to toe.

“You look gorgeous, especially with your face—anything would suit you,” Luo Zhi said without averting her gaze. “It’s just that compared to the elaborate gowns you usually wear to galas and dinners, this is a bit… casual.”

Sheng Huaining blinked. “That’s exactly the effect I wanted.”

—

In Harbor City, the elite often find any excuse to host a cocktail party.

This time, the jewelry appraisal was a pretense; everyone knew the true purpose all too well.

The event was held at a luxury hotel in Central owned by the Shao family, attended by the wealthy and powerful.

At seven in the evening, the grand hall was brilliantly lit, filled with elegant guests, fragrant scents, and the clinking of glasses, creating a lively and joyful atmosphere.

Determined to blend quickly into the crowd, Sheng Huaining deliberately arrived more than half an hour early.

Having attended countless banquets and soirées since childhood, she could no longer count them on her fingers.

Luo Zhi was right; compared to before, she was indeed more perfunctory.

No styling team, and she chose simple clothing without even wearing a necklace.

But Sheng Huaining forgot that in the past, many noticed her face first, and the intricate adornments were merely embellishments.

This time was no exception.

Clutching her clutch, she kept thinking about sending a WeChat message to He Chenye, but never found the chance to take out her phone.

Within just five minutes, at least five or six men approached to flirt, leaving her exasperated.

Since arriving, Sheng Huaining had not touched a drop of alcohol.

Known for loving to drink but having a poor tolerance, she usually only indulged a little at family gatherings or in the company of close friends.

Moreover, she hadn’t forgotten the main reason Chen Huanfei had asked her to come.

At several jewelry booths, Sheng Huaining found designs that truly matched her taste.

She resolved to use the old man’s card lavishly later—after all, he had deliberately underestimated her before the show last night.

Soon, the muffled sound of Oxford leather shoes stepping on the thick carpet came from behind her.

She delicately grasped the stem of her champagne glass and slowly turned around.

Shao Jingchu lifted his hand, rolling up his sleeve half an inch to reveal a fully diamond-encrusted watch on his smooth, strong wrist. The last time it appeared was at Sotheby’s auction—a priceless piece, beyond reach.

She discreetly glanced a few more times, noticing that his brooch, tie clip, and cufflinks were all of the same exquisite design.

One could not simply say he was dressed like a mansion; it was as if he wore an entire luxury estate.

Seeing her eyes lowered, Shao Jingchu stepped closer, his tone deferential. “Ningning, I thought you wouldn’t come.”

Sheng Huaining forced a dry smile. “It’s better if you call me by my name, Mr. Shao. Besides, don’t you know why I’m here?”

Shao Jingchu, knowing he was in the wrong, did not argue but instead took a glass of sparkling wine from a passing waiter’s tray and offered it to her.

The wine was a bright yellow, rich with tropical fruit aromas, smooth on the palate, a perfect balance of sweet and sour—the kind she often drank.

Sheng Huaining did not take it. She lazily rubbed the glass with her fingertip, her politeness tinged with aloofness.

She mumbled an excuse: “Not feeling well, can’t drink. Mr. Shao, please enjoy yourself; don’t mind me.”

Shao Jingchu had invested heavily in this event and was not about to let the person in front of him slip away so easily.

He hadn’t forgotten that Sheng Huaining was notoriously difficult to chase after in Harbor City. Love or indifference mattered little to him; the desire to conquer was something deeply ingrained in many—it was always more thrilling to chase what one could not easily have.

—

On either side of the ballroom were private lounges for guests to rest, providing utmost privacy.

Sheng Huaining scanned the area, noticing more people arriving steadily. She hurriedly lifted her skirt and headed towards the lounge, unaware of someone trailing just a few steps behind her.

As she pushed open the thick door, she heard faint rustling inside and stepped back.

“Dita?” came an uncertain voice.

She stopped, long lashes raised, gazing ahead.

Inside, on a wine-red velvet sofa, Chen Huan was half-reclining. He wore a black satin strapless cocktail dress draping elegantly, with an intricately embroidered floral waist cincher that accentuated his slender waist—a look simple yet refined.

He looked toward her with a mix of surprise and joy. “Why are you here so early?”

At that moment, Sheng Huaining noticed Shao Jingchu behind her. Caught between advancing and retreating, she reluctantly stepped into the lounge.

She deliberately chose a single sofa in the corner and immediately took out her phone.

In the notifications, sure enough, there was a message from He Chenye sent half an hour ago, asking when she would finish.

Just as she lifted her finger to reply, Chen Huan leaned toward her, his intimacy as if their quarrel a week ago had never happened.

“Why didn’t you say anything when you arrived?”

Sheng Huaining frowned.

At first, she had thought to respond briefly if they met, avoiding gossip in a crowded room.

But now, with no one else around, she dropped the act and blurted out, “Don’t waste your effort. As I said before, if you like it, keep it yourself—I can’t make use of it.”

Chen Huan was taken aback, not expecting her to be so serious.

After so many years, she knew the person in front of her, though moody, was not unreasonable—just blunt and quick to soften.

So when Shao Jingchu offered to sponsor the art gala, she agreed without hesitation.

It was just helping with introductions; she had no reason to refuse.

But she had forgotten that Sheng Huaining hated being manipulated above all else.

After a moment, Chen Huan reached out, but Sheng Huaining swiftly sidestepped.

Ignored despite his efforts, he felt humiliated. “Sheng Huaining, do we have to tear apart our relationship?”

“Yes.”

Without even looking at him, Sheng Huaining crossed her legs from under her skirt, casually playing with the decoration on her nail art.

Time passed quickly; Chen Huan was rebuffed repeatedly and at a loss, glancing helplessly at Shao Jingchu waiting nearby.

The man rotated his diamond watch silently, curling his lips into a meaningful smile, gesturing toward the alcohol on the coffee table.

She immediately understood, nodded, and watched as the man left. Then Chen Huan gently coaxed her, “Don’t be angry, Dita.”

Sheng Huaining was slightly surprised, wondering why he was so persistent, even when treated this way—truly unusual.

The wine in the glass shimmered with an eerie glow, casting mesmerizing colors under the dim light.

She couldn’t help but glance a few more times, her hand gripping the glass losing its color.

In that instant, Sheng Huaining’s blood pressure spiked sharply, nearly reaching a breaking point.

She forced herself to calm down and raised her chin. “I won’t join you. Drink alone.”

Chen Huan instantly grew furious, “Do you have to make this so awkward for everyone?”

This time, she said everything she needed to say, both what should and shouldn’t be said.

She knew Chen Huan liked light blue, taro-flavored desserts, and the most famous barbecue pork buns in Mong Kok.

There was too much to say, more than she could finish.

So how could he not know her habits, yet still insist she drink?

The scandals in Harbor City’s elite circles were numerous; Sheng Huaining didn’t want to assume others’ intentions—she just wished for a clean break.

She didn’t expose him, only quietly said, “I came, your goal is achieved. Whatever you do next, you don’t need to inform me.”

Her smile remained unchanged, but a faint chill flickered in her eyes. Rising, she glanced at the almost crushed glass in Chen Huan’s hand and couldn’t help but smile.

—

She quickened her pace, eager to leave the place that had chilled her to the bone.

Just as she stepped out of the ballroom, Sheng Luanjing’s call came through.

Irritated and needing to vent, Sheng Huaining quickly answered and sweetly greeted, “Daddy.”

As expected, the man on the other end was displeased that she had returned from the mainland only to disappear without a trace.

The entire family was busy preparing for her birthday, yet she hadn’t made a single call—no wonder Sheng Luanjing was furious.

Feeling guilty, she suppressed her anger and began to admit fault. “I was wrong, I know. A week ago, I told mom not to trouble herself with arrangements because I might not make it back.”

“Now that you’re back, you can still make it,” he replied.

Sheng Huaining was reluctant, casting a glance at the hall where people laughed and chatted with enjoyment. Rarely coquettish, she teased Sheng Luanjing, “It’s Shao family’s cocktail party—I can’t leave.”

After a few more words and promising to definitely return home tomorrow, Sheng Luanjing relented.

But because of the call, her original plan to leave early was abandoned.

If the old man found out, there’d be another lecture.

Taking a deep breath, she smiled with lips closed and turned back.

Under everyone’s watchful eyes, she deliberately lingered in front of each display case. Whether she bought anything was secondary—her main goal was to assert her presence.

Around nine o’clock, as the party was winding down, Sheng Huaining guessed He Chenye’s work was probably finished. She hurriedly left the hotel.

Outside, rain had begun to fall, fine droplets drifting down and splashing into crystalline water flowers on the ground.

Taking the car keys handed by the doorman, she walked around to the other side to get in.

Looking up, she saw a man standing on the curb holding a long-handled black umbrella.

Her heart tightened. Ignoring how heavy the rain was, she plunged into the downpour, eager to reach him as soon as possible.

The sound of high heels splashing through puddles followed.

The man raised his umbrella slightly, revealing half his face—his refined eyebrows slightly narrowed as he watched her approach.

She pressed her thin lips together, a smile reaching her eyes, and made to slip into his arms, but his outstretched arm stopped her just in time.

Before she could react, she blurted out, “With this much rain, why didn’t you wait inside for me?”

Several waiters nearby glanced in their direction from time to time. He Chenye stepped back a few paces, restraining himself, but didn’t forget to shield her with the umbrella, his expression unusually cold. “Too many people, too many eyes. It’s inconvenient.”

Sheng Huaining froze, recalling the day they first got together when she had requested not to make their relationship public yet.

Though puzzled, He Chenye had respected her wish.

Her brows lowered, and in her view, his pants were soaked from the rain, his shoes splattered with mud. She wondered how long he had waited to end up so disheveled.

“He Chenye, you…” Her voice was soft, sobs drowned by the pattering rain.

The man instinctively called her, “Miss Sheng.”

Sheng Huaining suddenly lifted her chin, displeased.

She knew the relationship began because of her stubbornness and that he had probably agreed only because she had worn him down.

Silence fell between them.

He was the first to realize the awkwardness in his address and spoke slowly, “Sorry, I…”

Before he could finish, she interrupted gently, “He Chenye, logically I should sulk and ignore you, but I don’t want that. Cold wars don’t help us build a relationship. You might even think it’s lucky, hoping we naturally break up.”

“I didn’t…”

At that moment, He Chenye hated that she was always one step ahead, cutting him off again and again.

She bit her lip and said, “If you call me by a nicer name, I’ll forgive you.”

After a long pause, he lowered his gaze, suppressing the urge to pull her close, and spoke in a voice as gentle as possible.

“Ningning.”