Chapter 89: Zhi Yuan

Amidst the neon lights and kaleidoscope of colors that dazzled the eyes, plenty of people were still grooving to the beat, swinging their limbs wildly.

Outside was the harsh winter cold, but inside the heat was cranked up high. Even so, Qiao Qian couldn’t help but break out in a cold sweat as she looked at the person in front of her.

Before she knew it, she was drenched all over, as if she’d just run a marathon, sweating buckets.

“Don’t be nervous.”

Han Xuan said, as if she could see right through everything. She then poured a glass of wine for both of them and generously gestured for Qiao Qian to drink with her.

“The bottle’s already open. Wouldn’t it be a waste not to drink? This bottle must’ve cost you quite a bit.”

She smiled brightly, handing the glass to Qiao Qian.

“Come on, cheers.”

Under Han Xuan’s urging, Qiao Qian passively raised her glass and clinked it with hers.

The glasses collided in mid-air, producing a crisp, light tinkling sound.

For some reason, Qiao Qian felt that Han Xuan’s drinking motions were unnaturally practiced.

Whether it was her gestures or the natural expression on her face, there wasn’t a trace of unfamiliarity.

Her words caught in her throat: “You…”

A long time ago, Qiao Qian had heard about Han Xuan’s past from Xu Jiao. Now it seemed that her innocent facade was all an act.

At that thought, a chill crept up her back.

“What… do you want with me?”

At her words, Han Xuan looked up in some surprise: “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

The moment Qiao Qian met her gaze, she felt like she was plunged into a frozen wasteland.

Everything around her instantly lost all sense of warmth, as if her little patch had been sliced off from the rest.

Qiao Qian felt like her very soul was about to be sucked away. She shuddered violently, and her subconscious took over, blurting out involuntarily:

“D-Don’t kill me.”

She quickly realized what she’d said and immediately clammed up, trembling in fear.

Damn it, why had she blurted out exactly what was on her mind?

Qiao Qian knew some things about the Han family and Han Xuan. After Chu Susu and Li Le’er refused to help, her original plan had been to go all-in and threaten Han Xuan with it. But who would’ve thought the other party would come knocking first.

And Qiao Qian realized she wasn’t as bold as she’d imagined.

Forget threatening Han Xuan—even facing her head-on made her this terrified.

She recalled the gruesome scenes Xu Jiao had described, feeling like she’d never been this close to death before.

But Han Xuan didn’t react to her words at all. She neither got angry nor did anything to her—just smiled it off and then answered the question seriously:

“I won’t kill you.”

Qiao Qian froze: “What?”

“You’re Susu’s friend. I won’t kill you.”

That chill from her back had now spread throughout her body, making her feel like she was falling into an ice pit.

Some of the wine in her glass had spilled onto the table at some point, the liquid indistinguishable in color under the lights—or maybe it was water from melted ice.

Han Xuan lowered her head to wipe it clean, then toyed with the white napkin: “So before I change my mind, it’d be better if you spill everything.”

Her voice was soft, like a gentle breeze brushing past her ear.

Qiao Qian froze stiff, and the alcohol in her system chose that moment to kick in, muddling her mind and leaving her at a loss.

Seeing no response, Han Xuan suddenly glanced sideways at the dance floor nearby.

Right in the center, a girl in revealing clothes was dancing seductively on a pole.

But the moment Han Xuan looked over, something happened.

The girl’s hand suddenly slipped off the pole, and she tumbled to the side—thankfully caught by someone nearby, no serious harm done.

“What’s wrong?” others asked with concern.

The girl shook her head in confusion: “Weird, why did this pole suddenly feel so slippery?”

After that, everything returned to normal. Han Xuan shifted her gaze back and saw Qiao Qian curling her fingers in terror, clearly scared out of her wits and desperate to get far away from her.

A faint flicker of disappointment passed through Han Xuan’s eyes.

So this was all the courage she had.

Faced with impending doom, Qiao Qian forced herself to pull it together. That girl had only taken a light fall, no injuries anywhere—but what if it had been her?

Would she have cracked her skull open?

She had no choice but to cooperate with Han Xuan.

Qiao Qian’s voice was hoarse beyond belief:

“I’ll talk, I’ll talk!

“Ask me anything, and I’ll tell you the truth.”

Han Xuan nodded, seemingly satisfied with her cooperation, then glanced at the clock on the bar wall:

“I’ll give you ten minutes.”

As she mentioned a certain name, a faint smile curved her lips.

“Ten minutes from now, Susu will arrive. I don’t want her to see you.”

Qiao Qian didn’t understand—why would Chu Susu come here at this hour? It definitely wasn’t her who called her, so why had Han Xuan arranged for her to come?

Or did Han Xuan have some precognitive ability?

But she had no choice. “Okay.”

Chu Susu had clearly spotted Han Xuan’s figure from outside, but after walking in and looking around, she couldn’t find her—probably because the booth seating here was all jumbled.

A bar promoter quickly came over: “Hello, are you here to meet a friend?”

Chu Susu had come twice in this period, enough for the promoter to remember her face. She immediately said, “Your friend’s over that way. Let me take you.”

Guided by the promoter, she finally found the table.

In front of her, a girl in a black maxi dress was drinking alone, clutching a large sketchbook in her arms. She looked completely out of place with her surroundings.

The promoter let out an “Eh?”

She’d meant to bring Chu Susu to Qiao Qian, but where had Qiao Qian gone?

Well, they all seemed to be friends anyway, so it was the right spot essentially.

Chu Susu sat down next to Han Xuan and deftly took the glass from her hand: “Sketching again?”

But a flicker of doubt crossed her mind.

From outside earlier, she’d seemed to see someone else next to Han Xuan. But it was too far to make out the face or features—just vaguely a woman.

Yet now there was only one glass on the table, not looking like anyone had been there.

“Susu.”

Han Xuan’s cheeks were flushed, and she looked up with a bit of pleasant surprise, subconsciously hugging her sketchbook tighter.

“Yeah.” She seemed a little uneasy. “My sketches this past month have all been bar-themed…”

Chu Susu frowned, scrutinizing Han Xuan’s face and those slightly dazed eyes: “How much have you had to drink?”

“Just a little.”

A lie—the bottle was only half full now.

Chu Susu knew she was already pretty drunk and decided to get her out of there quick. What if Han Xuan used her ability while not sober?

Not to mention, how could she draw after drinking?

“How’s the drawing coming? Want me to take you home?” she asked softly. “It’s too noisy here.”

But Han Xuan’s eyes sparkled, misty with a layer of water, as she pointed at the bottle.

“Can Susu drink with me?”

“No, I have to drive.”

Han Xuan let out a disappointed “Ah,” then murmured softly: “But I want to.”

Her eyes were red at the corners, her lips soft and plump, just like a ripe water peach.

Before Chu Susu could answer, her phone rang with an incoming video call.

Li Le’er’s voice was loud, as if waiting for her in the cold wind: “Where are you, Eldest Miss? I’m downstairs at the mall right now. Take a pic of your surroundings with your phone so I can find your car…”

Before she finished, she stared puzzled at Chu Susu’s background:

“Wait, why’d you go to a bar?”

They’d agreed to drink at home!

What was this? Was she getting stood up?

Before Chu Susu could respond, Han Xuan suddenly leaned in boldly, squeezing into the frame.

She lowered her head slightly, letting her hair cascade down her face, her expression somehow unlike her usual self.

That face once described by others as “indifferent” now brimmed with seductive charm, eyes hazy with allure.

“Hi, Le’er.”

Han Xuan said softly: “I’m Han Xuan. Did you two plan to hang out tonight? Can I… join you?”

Her fluttering lashes carried a hint of grievance, evoking pity—especially for CP fan leader Li Le’er.

Her brain short-circuited, stunned for a full three seconds, then she frantically shook her head.

“No!!! Way!!!”

Chu Susu: ?

Li Le’er: “I didn’t plan to hang out with Susu at all!”

Her expression was natural, her words rapid-fire, sounding totally convincing.

Han Xuan bit her lip and lowered her eyes in dejection: “How could that be? Are you saying that because I’m causing you trouble? Then I won’t disturb you…”

“No!!!”

Li Le’er unleashed a earth-shattering roar.

Chu Susu could clearly see from the video that passersby behind her were shooting puzzled looks.

“It’s me who shouldn’t disturb you!!!”

“Trust me, I’m just a bit directionally challenged. I called to ask Susu for directions.”

“Uh, I just remembered I have navigation on my phone. I’ll use the app. You two have fun!”

“Don’t worry about me!!! I’m fine!!!”

Li Le’er waved vigorously in farewell, not giving Han Xuan any space to reply.

Then, as if suddenly remembering something:

“Right, Little Cotton… Han Xuan, should we add each other on WeChat? From now on, we’re friends—let’s hang out often!”

Chu Susu felt three black lines appear on her forehead. She took back her phone. “Le’er, that’s enough.”

Li Le’er shot her a knowing “you get it” look, her brows dancing with excitement, then decisively hit the end call button.

“Bye-bye! Wishing you two happiness!”

She then rapidly sent a congratulatory message: “Let’s congratulate this new couple on entering the marriage hall tonight. I’m sending two thousand.”

…What the hell was this???

Chu Susu was half speechless, half amused as she put away her phone. “Don’t mind what Le’er said. That’s just her personality—a bit nonsensical.”

She had almost let “Little Sheep” slip out.

But it seemed the tipsy Han Xuan didn’t mind.

She simply stared at Chu Susu without blinking, her cheeks still flushed, and spoke with anticipation:

“So now, can Susu drink with me?”

“Before that, drive me home first.”

The moment their eyes met, the song hit its climax—the most beautiful melody. But Chu Susu suddenly couldn’t hear it.

Just as her vision was filled only with that aurora-like brilliant purple.

Her ears filled only with the sound of her own heartbeat.