Chapter 336: To Hell with Decorum

Maybe it was the suspicious look in Fang Zhou’s eyes that made Song Qinghuan smile. She set the rejected bottle of iced tea back on the table and opened her honey grapefruit tea, taking a sip.

“Really, now. You don’t think I’m some kind of stalker, do you?” She laughed softly, brushing off his doubts with ease. “Rest assured, I don’t have that kind of habit—yet.”

Fang Zhou snorted, his disdain barely concealed. “I’m not worth stalking, especially for someone like you, Miss Song. I’m just a nobody.”

He knew better than to flatter himself. Fate just seemed to have a cruel sense of humor, constantly throwing him back into the paths of his ex-girlfriends.

Song Qinghuan caught the sarcasm in his tone. She sighed, her eyes filled with a mix of regret and sorrow. “Looks like you still hate me.”

“Hate you? Oh, no. Your rich hubby could buy out my streaming channel with a wave of his hand. How could I possibly hate you?” Fang Zhou’s voice dripped with irony. “I should be thanking you for getting me on that dating show. I made 50 grand. Want me to sing a song to show my gratitude?”

As he spoke, he rolled his eyes, knowing his words were dripping with sarcasm. Maturity be damned—today, Fang Zhou was done playing the nice guy.

To hell with decorum.

He relished in the moment, feeling the satisfaction of giving it back to her. After all, what did he have to lose? His nerves were already frayed from dealing with his exes.

And, of course, Song Qinghuan was the worst offender, having seamlessly moved on from him to another man. How many nights had he been haunted by nightmares of her and that greasy guy?

No, Fang Zhou wasn’t about to play nice. Not today. He’d rather confront her head-on than bottle up his frustration.

Song Qinghuan felt the weight of his gaze and shifted her eyes to the ground, focusing on the patterns the sunlight made through the gaps in the umbrellas. The silence between them grew, punctuated only by distant laughter from the pool and the calls of birds in the valley.

“Come on, Huanhuan! Join us!” someone from her group shouted.

She waved them off, then turned back to Fang Zhou. “He’s not my husband. We didn’t get married, nor are we together.”

Fang Zhou’s cynical laugh cut through the tension. “Trying to clear your name now? What’s next, telling me he’s just your brother and it was all an act?”

Song Qinghuan nodded, much to his surprise. “It was an act. But he’s not my brother.”

Her serious tone caught Fang Zhou off guard. He blinked, struggling to process her words. “You expect me to believe that? Got any other stories up your sleeve?”

She met his gaze, her eyes unwavering. “I’m not lying. I wanted to apologize to you, sincerely.”

With that, she stood up and bowed deeply. “I’m sorry.”

Fang Zhou was stunned. He stood up as well, his mind racing. “Cut the crap. What’s your purpose? Are you here to borrow money? If so, the answer is no.”

Her sudden apology felt like a trap, like a fox apologizing to a chicken. Fang Zhou wasn’t buying it.

He had already pegged Song Qinghuan as a bad person. What could drive her to this level of humility, if not desperation?

“No, I’m not here to borrow money. Believe me or not, it’s up to you,” she said, taking another sip of her drink. “But to show my sincerity, I’ll tell you something. Half of the people you met on that dating show weren’t there by coincidence.”

Fang Zhou’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that? Are you saying it was all planned?”

Her words echoed what Qin Yun had once told him—that her presence on the show wasn’t a coincidence. Fang Zhou felt a knot tighten in his stomach.

“Figure it out yourself,” Song Qinghuan said with a small smile, leaving him hanging.

“Damn it, you can’t just drop a bomb and walk away,” Fang Zhou muttered. “Why does this tea taste sweeter?”

Ignoring his frustration, Song Qinghuan picked up the iced tea she had offered him earlier and pushed it into his hand. “That’s all for today. Maybe we’ll talk again sometime.”

With that, she walked back to her friends at the pool, leaving Fang Zhou alone with his thoughts.

Could she be right? Was his run-in with his exes on the show part of some elaborate scheme? If so, who was pulling the strings?

Fang Zhou gripped the iced tea tighter, his mind racing with questions and doubts.