[Female student x powerful Hong Kong city tycoon] Eight-year age gap
[Sunny, affectionate cutie x refined, elegant mature daddy]
[Positive and upbeat x gentle, cunning]
Paris, France. On a damp, sweltering, rainy night, Jiang Ning is dropped off at her apartment by a male classmate.
A deep gaze falls upon her. She looks up and freezes.
Through the curtain of beaded rain, the man stands tall and graceful, his noble bearing impossible to hide.
He speaks with a smile, as refined as ever. His voice is cool as moonlight spreading across the night, gentle and calm, carried to her from afar over the sound of rain.
“Ningning, I’ve been looking for you for so long.”
*
At dusk, the unlit room grows stiflingly intimate, stirring the heart.
Zhou Yanchen kisses away the girl’s tears and bends low, feeling her tremble.
His knuckles press between her fingers and gently caress them. Facing her tearful little face, he asks again and again in a hoarse voice:
“Baby, can that boy tell the difference between glass and diamonds?”
“What do you want? Money or status? I can give you either.”
“Me included.”
*
The first time Zhou Yanchen saw Jiang Ning, she was wearing a Lolita princess dress, golden curls spilling over her fair shoulders. She was as beautiful as a princess.
The director, who was following along and fawning over him, was quick to explain: “She’s the top student at the Academy of Fine Arts, modeling clothes for the fashion design students.”
The man’s expression was aloof, his tone light. He seemed to listen, yet somehow not to hear.
Then an accident happened, and they spent one enchanting night together.
The girl’s hands trembled as she reached for her shoulder strap. Her slender, fragile swan neck was covered in kiss marks.
Her golden curls fell forward. Jiang Ning did not dare look up. Her soft voice quivered faintly as she said, “Mr. Zhou, you can pretend none of this ever happened.”
The man’s noble features turned somber in the haze beyond the window.
He cut her off. “Miss Jiang, I’ll take responsibility.”
*
Zhou Yanchen stands at the pinnacle of power in Hong Kong, the only son of a top-tier wealthy family, adored by all.
His refined face is like the first snow in the mountains, courteous and polite, yet marked by a distant chill that makes him hard to approach.
Jiang Ning knows she is with Mr. Zhou only because he feels he owes her compensation.
They were never from the same world, but he treated her very well.
When word came that the Zhou family intended to arrange a marriage alliance with a prominent family in the capital, Jiang Ning left, decisive and resolute.
She took nothing with her, leaving behind only a photograph.
It showed the man’s elegant face in sleep. On the back, in a line of lively handwriting, she had written:
“Mr. Zhou, the mountains are high and the waters long. Don’t see me off.”
For the first time, the always-composed man’s eyes darkened.
After a long silence, he suddenly smiled, his voice stiff and cold: “Ningning, do you have no conscience?”
*
At fifteen, Jiang Ning nearly got sold off by her father to be married, until a sponsorship payment arrived signed with the name “Zhou.”
The girl picked out the least shabby floral dress from her old clothes, hoping to meet the “Mr. Zhou” who had saved her life.
The summer sky was clear, dazzling her. She accidentally bumped into someone.
The documents in his hand fell. Jiang Ning caught sight of three bold, vigorous characters, exactly as she remembered them: “Zhou Yanchen.”
Jiang Ning stared up blankly. His handsome, chiseled features, refined as a carved statue, were etched into her eyes alongside the sunlight.
He smiled lazily. “Little girl, how can you be so careless?”
Jiang Ning’s heart pounded.
“Friends say Jiang Ning is the little bird he keeps, but only Mr. Zhou knows she’s a butterfly he can never cage.”
This is the first version of the blurb. I’ll polish it!
1. When I said the girl’s feelings are easy to guess, I meant “love,” not “seduction.”
2. She dyes her hair black again later.
3. At first, the girl has a secret crush. Later, Mr. Zhou chases his wife.
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