Soft blues played in the elegantly appointed bar. Dancers swayed gracefully onstage while a group of young people laughed and chatted in a booth below.
“Now that’s our Young Master Duan! When he says he’s treating us, he means it. And at DOLL, where the bill runs to five figures per person. Generous!”
“Come on, that’s pocket change to him.”
“When are you going to help us get rich, Young Master Duan?”
“Exactly. Can we tag along with you?”
“…”
At the center of the group, Duan Yan lounged on the sofa with an arm around a beautiful woman.
“Just a little business here and there,” he drawled. “Nothing you’d call getting rich. A bit of spending money.”
“Don’t be modest. I saw your Moments posts a couple of days ago. You were on the Xiao family’s cruise ship. Were you there on business?”
“Not exactly. Just a little socializing.”
Duan Yan’s lips curved despite himself.
“It was Young Master Xiao’s birthday banquet. I went to expand my network.”
A chorus of envious exclamations immediately followed.
They were all children of wealthy families, but even among rich heirs, there were distinctions. At the very top stood one family alone: the Xiaos.
Of the young men in Xiao Ji’s generation, he was the most likely to inherit Xiao Group. Naturally, everyone wanted to know him.
But the wealthy elite had their own circles, and ordinary rich heirs like them couldn’t simply enter his.
Yet Duan Yan had not only made it into that circle—he had been invited to Xiao Ji’s birthday banquet. It was practically a leap into another social class.
“When did you meet Young Master Xiao? Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Right! Could you introduce us?”
“I heard the Xiao family’s cruise ship ranks among the finest in the world. Was it really luxurious?”
“Did you meet Xiao Group’s chairman? I heard he’s mixed-race and still very young.”
“…”
Questions came eagerly from all sides. Even the woman beside Duan Yan couldn’t resist asking.
He was delighted, but maintained an air of nonchalance.
“We only have a business relationship. I wouldn’t presume to call Young Master Xiao a close friend.”
The others naturally didn’t believe him. They assumed he simply didn’t want to introduce them, but no one dared say so. Instead, they asked about the banquet.
Eventually, the conversation turned to Song Liang.
“I heard it was supposed to be Young Master Xiao’s engagement banquet with the Qiao family’s daughter, but Song Liang ruined it. I wonder how he’ll punish him.”
“Punish him how? He’s dead.”
The speaker laughed.
“Quite the devoted lover, jumping into the sea to die for love. Hilarious. Did he think he was some legendary romantic?”
“He didn’t know his place. We call him Young Master Song a few times, and he actually starts believing he’s somebody. He should’ve compared his standing with Xiao Ji’s. Yet he kept pestering him, then turned up at his engagement banquet making a scene about life and death. He’s disgraced the entire Song family.”
“How did he get onto the Xiao family’s ship anyway? Someone like him couldn’t have received an invitation, could he?”
“How else? He sneaked aboard.”
“Then why did he jump?”
Floating on their flattery and emboldened by the alcohol, Duan Yan tightened his arm around his companion’s waist and said casually, “Failed to get into his bed, felt humiliated, and decided he didn’t want to live.”
“You know that too? Were you crouching beside Xiao Ji’s bed watching?”
“Well, no—”
Duan Yan stopped.
Something about that voice sounded familiar. Before he could see who had spoken, he noticed everyone around him staring behind him with wide eyes.
Even in the dim light, their faces were pale, as though they had seen something terrifying.
Confused, Duan Yan started to turn.
A kick sent him flying off the sofa and onto the table. Bottles rolled to the floor, shattering into scattered glass.
The impact left him dazed, his chest burning with pain. Before he could get up, a foot pressed down on his back.
A familiar voice sounded quietly beside his ear.
“I hear you’ve been telling everyone I’m dead?”
“…”
Duan Yan’s eyes widened as he twisted his head in disbelief.
Song Liang bent down and raised an eyebrow. Beneath his cap brim, his sharp brows and eyes held a cold, commanding look.
Duan Yan’s face filled with fear.
“Song…Song Liang?!”
“That’s me. Seventh day after my death. I came back for a visit.”
“…”
Duan Yan’s expression shifted rapidly before he clenched his teeth.
“Are you crazy? Let me go!”
Song Liang smiled and drove his foot down harder.
Duan Yan screamed. The others finally snapped out of their shock and rushed forward to intervene.
Song Liang glanced up at them, grabbed a bottle from the table, and smashed it against the edge. Then he pressed the jagged glass against Duan Yan’s neck.
“Want to try?”
Their faces drained of color. No one dared move.
Nearby customers hurried out of the way. Noticing the disturbance, the bar’s security guards rushed over.
Song Liang ground his foot against the man beneath him.
“Shall we talk outside?”
Duan Yan trembled, terrified that one forceful movement would drive the bottle into his neck. He hastily agreed.
Only then did Song Liang lift his foot, seize him by the collar, and drag him into the alley behind the bar.
The moment they entered the alley, Duan Yan began swearing.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You could kill someone! Are you out of your mind?”
Song Liang answered indifferently, “I’m already dead. What do I have to fear?”
Duan Yan choked on his words. After glaring at him for a long moment, he said, “I saw you jump off the ship myself. How was I supposed to know you’d survive? I wasn’t making shit up. Did you really have to go that far?”
“Did you also personally see me trying to get into Xiao Ji’s bed?”
“…I’d had a few drinks. It was just something I said. We’ve been friends for years. Do you have to be so petty?”
Song Liang couldn’t be bothered to argue.
“Pay me back.”
Duan Yan startled.
“Pay you back what?!”
Song Liang brought up their transfer history.
In the three years they had known each other, Duan Yan had taken more than five hundred thousand yuan from the original owner, using cash-flow problems, investments, and other excuses.
Duan Yan’s expression changed repeatedly.
“What’s this supposed to mean? You said there was no rush to repay you. We’re friends. What are you doing now?”
Song Liang’s gaze was cool.
“Who said we were friends?”
Duan Yan froze.
For a moment, the person before him felt like a stranger. The face was unchanged, but his expression and manner of speaking were entirely different.
The old Song Liang had always been gloomy and timid, with a foolish sort of innocence.
This man was calm and assured. Even when he had held the broken bottle against Duan Yan’s neck, an utterly unrestrained smile had lingered in his eyes—as though Duan Yan meant nothing to him.
He didn’t know what to say. Finally, he managed, “I have no money.”
Song Liang raised an eyebrow, then glanced down at an iron pipe beside the wall.
Goosebumps rose all over Duan Yan.
“I…I really don’t! I’m not lying this time. I spent it all. Tonight alone cost me over a hundred thousand!”
“Aren’t you supposed to be rich? All those businesses of yours.”
“…”
Duan Yan glared at him.
“I’m not a businessman.”
Song Liang lifted his brows.
“Then what do you do?”
Irritation crossed Duan Yan’s face. He muttered a few words quickly under his breath.
Song Liang hadn’t caught them.
“What?”
“I said I’m a male model! There! Happy now?”
“…”
Song Liang: 【What’s a male model?】
【Someone who entertains clients.】
Song Liang understood.
Looking at Duan Yan’s embarrassed, resentful expression, he asked, “Do you make much doing that?”
“…Depends on how business is going. The good ones can make a few million a month. Even the less successful ones get a guaranteed base salary.”
“How much?”
“Eight or ten thousand.”
Duan Yan sounded aggrieved.
“Why are you asking?”
3085 was puzzled too. 【Why are you asking about this?】
Song Liang ignored them both. He lowered his gaze, thought for a moment, then looked at Duan Yan and asked in complete seriousness, “How do you apply to be a male model?”
Duan Yan stared blankly.
???
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