"I said—come here and keep me company!"

Each word, heavily stressed, underscored that Lin Mengyao’s decision brooked no refusal.

Lin Mengyao didn’t care who he was feeding. Since she’d spoken first, Jiang Fan no longer had the option to say no.

After all, she’d used nothing but commands from the start.

"Hm? So eager to keep me company?"

Jiang Fan leaned over the bar, his face nearing hers until their skin almost touched.

Psychology spoke of "social distance." By that theory, this closeness belonged only to the most intimate.

Yet Lin Mengyao showed no resistance as Jiang Fan invaded her space—quite intriguing.

"Seems I might be worth more than I thought?"

Men who talked money endlessly weren’t likable. But Jiang Fan never tried to please anyone. He spoke his mind.

His provocation was blunt. Lin Mengyao had drunk a little, but wasn’t drunk. Alcohol just made her bolder.

"Heh, you overestimate yourself."

Lin Mengyao never repeated mistakes. Attacking worked better than arguing.

She closed the gap further, pressing her forehead to his. A slight tilt, and Jiang Fan could claim her soft lips.

She knew this. She meant it. Her reflection in his eyes was both challenge and lure.

Like a thorny black rose, she radiated dangerous allure.

"I *ordered* you to stay. I don’t *need* you. Understand?"

Their eyes locked—Jiang Fan’s calm, Lin Mengyao’s fierce. Seconds passed. Neither looked away.

Like kids in a staring contest: first to blink lost.

But Jiang Fan hated such games. Seeing her flushed, he broke contact, stepping back to safety.

"Then I’m not essential. Dancing with friends beats a stranger, right?"

Jiang Fan smiled, his gaze drifting past her to a shadowed corner.

Stares had come from there often...

Lin Mengyao noticed. Outwardly calm, inwardly shocked.

He’d pinpointed those looks in this chaos. Many watched them—not just her group.

Worried about trouble? Such a cautious little man.

But that didn’t justify his clean rejection.

Her makeup wasn’t perfect, yet her figure, face, and dress shone.

Her waist fit in one hand; her smooth legs drew every eye.

No man ignored her like this!

He’d refused without hesitation. Earlier, he’d been so calm—like losing a dance with her meant nothing.

What gave this bartender such ease?

Jiang Fan saw her anger. He answered honestly.

"Don’t misunderstand. I like you. Who dislikes pretty girls? While you drank, I stole glances at your legs."

*Liar. Keep lying.*

Lin Mengyao had watched him closely. She knew where his eyes wandered.

Treating her like a child just because she’d drunk?

Ignoring her glare, Jiang Fan continued:

"Truth is, I’m busy. My cat’s fierce. If I’m late feeding her, she’ll rage all night. You know?"

"Plus... I have wicked thoughts. You’re gorgeous and dressed so sexy. I might lose control."

He turned away, smiling shyly—like a nerd flustered before a goddess.

But if he were truly that man, Lin Mengyao wouldn’t revisit this bar.

Full of lies. Not worth her time.

Yet she was hooked. She knew the game of playing hard to get. She was the fish on the hook—but refused to admit it.

All she wanted was to reel him in.

Grabbing his tie, she yanked his face close.

"Well? If I offer you a chance—what then?"

No pause for thought. She crushed her lips to his.

Unlike Jiang Fan, she was a novice. The kiss wasn’t memorable.

But she saw his eyes flicker—panic, hesitation. Her first kiss felt worth it.

"Your mouth says no. Your body’s honest... Changed your mind? Make me happy, and I’ll allow other things."

Indulgence tasted good. Lin Mengyao felt unusually excited—excited to tease Jiang Fan.

So what was his reply?

*Cough! Cough! Cough! Cough! Cough!*

Violent coughs wracked him.

"I... cough... allergic to alcohol... cough cough—"

Lin Mengyao froze. His coughing boomed like a streamer’s epic live-stream fail—lungs threatening to burst.

The noise drew stares, but no one approached, fearing her.

Luckily, manager Chen Jing rushed over. "Sorry, Miss Lin. He can’t stay. I must take him to the hospital."

She guided Jiang Fan out.

In the car, Chen Jing opened her mouth—

Jiang Fan coughed, whispering: "Someone’s following. Drive to the hospital first."

Then he coughed harder.

*Cough cough cough—he was sick.*

*Haha—he was faking it.*