Chapter 248: Dirty Dancing
She puffed out smoke in his face as she leaned in close before saying, "You truly have nine lives. I genuinely thought that Muchen would have killed you the moment he found out what you did?"
Qie Xieling smiled slyly showing his tiger teeth. "He doesn’t know. He still thinks I only stole from him. He doesn’t know that I sold his secrets."
Lee Ya laughed as she took another drag from her cherry-flavoured smoke vape. Qie Xieling needed to buy as much time for Jolie to hack into her cell phone so he went along with it.
***
Ding! Ding ding ding! Ding!
Luo Muchen’s piercing gaze scanned the dimly lit restaurant, his attention torn between the captivating view of the city below and the incessant dinging sounds emanating from his cell phone. With a flicker of annoyance, he finally yielded and retrieved the device from the table, his fingers deftly unlocking it before shifting it to silent mode.
"I am sorry," he said to Bager while cutting his steak sizzling under a hot cast iron plate. He was trying to make up for the missed lunch date and the one that got disrupted by Bo Ailun.
Bager took a sip of his glass of wine before saying, "It’s okay. I know you have been very busy. I understand what you are going through."
Luo Muchen’s eyes dropped wondering why Qie Xieling couldn’t be more understanding just like Bager. He was still angered by their conversation earlier that he was ignoring the notifications coming on his cell phone.
If one was to ask him why he was pissed he wouldn’t be able to accurately explain it. He was so mad at Qie Xieling’s attitude of ’here I paid you everything I owe you now fuck off’. It was like he was being dismissed yet he was the one who was wronged.
Bager placed his hand over his and Luo Muchen came out of his trance. "... did you hear what I said?" asked Bager his light brown eyes staring straight at him.
Luo Muchen smiled slightly and said, "Yes, carry on." Bager didn’t expose him. He continued talking and soon they were engrossed in a conversation about V8 engines.
Luo Muchen’s focus wavered as his cell phone continued to buzz against his thigh. Unable to ignore the persistent interruptions any longer, he took it out and glanced at the screen, only to discover a flood of notifications from Qie Xieling’s Weibo account. A furrow deepened on his brow, his curiosity piqued.
Summoning one of his men with a subtle gesture, Luo Muchen silently conveyed his command to investigate Qie Xieling’s whereabouts. The subordinate swiftly left the restaurant, while Luo Muchen, unable to resist the temptation, delved into the notifications sent to him.
"Just a minute," he said to Bager and Bager didn’t feel any annoyance. He knew that things weren’t going so well for Luo Muchen and he would receive important messages at all odd hours.
Luo Muchen went through Qie Xieling’s pictures. As the images unfolded before his eyes, a sour feeling constricted his throat. The image depicted Qie Xieling in intimate moments with his manager. Their affectionate gazes and his casually unbuttoned shirt sent an inexplicable irritation coursing through Luo Muchen’s veins.
The short video showcased them embracing while strolling down the street, igniting a flame of anger within him. And to compound matters, there was another picture of Qie Xieling standing alongside a girl adorned in a Loli dress, while he autographed her car.
Bager, sensing Luo Muchen’s uneasiness, inquired about the cause of his distress. Just as the tension in the air grew palpable, the subordinate returned with the feedback Luo Muchen had demanded. With a mixture of fury and sourness, Luo Muchen discovered that Qie Xieling was currently at his archenemy’s nightclub.
A flicker of rage danced across Luo Muchen’s eyes, as he clenched his fists beneath the tablecloth. The tranquil ambience of the candle-lit dinner was shattered, replaced by an overwhelming sense of fury. The betrayal stung so much that he couldn’t stay still. The fact that Qie Xieling had dared to venture into enemy territory and plot who knows against him only added fuel to the fire.
"Feng" Luo Muchen growled, his voice low and laced with menace, "Prepare our men. We are going to visit Lee Ya."
"I will come with you," said Bager but Luo Muchen raised his hand before saying,
"No, you have practice tomorrow. Focus on that and we can arrange another dinner some other time." Bager wasn’t too pleased but he also knew that there was no room for negotiation.
Luo Muchen left the restaurant and entered one of the lined-up SUVs. Soon five cars took off leaving behind a cloud of dust. Meanwhile, Qie Xieling had lost count of how many shots he had had. He was sitting next to Lee Ya the two of them drinking like fish. Lee Ya’s goal was easy to understand. She wanted Qie Xieling drunk thus she urged him to drink as many drinks as possible. In the meantime, Qie Xieling was trying to buy as much time as possible for Jolie so when Lee Ya said drink he would drink.
He stumbled through the dimly lit nightclub as he was dragged through the dance floor by Lee Ya. His senses were long dulled by the potent mix of alcohol coursing through his veins. The rhythmic bass thumped in his chest, blending with the chaotic symphony of laughter, chatter, and clinking glasses. He weaved his way through the crowd, his unsteady steps guided by his arm being pulled towards the dance floor by Lee Ya.
As he neared the pulsating centre of the room, Qie Xieling’s bleary eyes fixed on Lee Ya. Her captivating figure swayed in the midst of the swirling lights. The haze of intoxication enveloped him, erasing boundaries and caution, leaving only a raw desire to dance.
Without a second thought, Lee Ya approached Qie Xieling. With his inhibitions cast aside Qie Xieling didn’t refuse her. She reached out her hand, and he accepted it, a hint of amusement twirling in her eyes. Together, they moved, their bodies entwined in a passionate dance. They glided across the floor, mirroring each other’s movements with a fluidity that defied the chaos around them.
In Qie Xieling’s clouded mind, there was no problem with dancing with Lee Ya. The music drowned out the warnings of his better judgment, and they spun and twirled, lost in a moment that felt timeless. Their dance embodied the intensity of a forbidden connection, reminiscent of the iconic moves from Dirty Dancing, where passion knew no restraint.
But as they embraced the euphoria of the night, the nightclub was suddenly transformed into a battleground. The heavy doors swung open, revealing a menacing group of armed figures. The Westside triads had arrived, their presence igniting a frenzy of panic and fear.
