Chapter 151: A Stark Contrast

Hearing Mr. Zeng's words felt like a small earthquake shaking my heart.

I stood frozen on the spot, memories of my late father flooding back. I remembered how he always urged me to find a girlfriend, even arranging meetings with different girls. He repeatedly told me to keep my distance from Zeng Hong.

At the time, I didn't understand why, and he never explained. It turns out he had made an agreement with Mr. Zeng. To prevent me from pursuing Zeng Hong, the two had reached a pact. My father, unwilling to hurt my feelings or wound my pride, chose instead to hint subtly, urging me to stay away from her.

After my father's death, Mr. Zeng knew there was no one left to restrain me. He then used every means possible to crush me, pushing me into poverty. But he needn't have worried—his daughter never liked me. With a father so calculating, how could his daughter be any different? Zeng Hong didn't fancy me; my relentless pursuit simply unsettled Mr. Zeng.

I chuckled and said to Mr. Zeng, "Mr. Zeng, I owe you an apology. I caused a misunderstanding. Zeng Hong and I grew up together like siblings. I have no romantic feelings for her and will not pursue her."

My words left both Zeng Hong and her father stunned. Zeng Hong clung to my arm, exclaiming, "Zhao Fei, how could you say that?"

I smiled faintly and replied, "Zeng Hong, we know each other too well. Romantic feelings between us are impossible. I've only ever seen you as a sister, which is why I've treated you with care and consideration. I hope you don't misunderstand, and I hope Mr. Zeng doesn't either."

"You're awful!" Zeng Hong shouted angrily before storming upstairs. I watched her go but didn't follow. My heart ached because, in truth, no one wanted to win Zeng Hong over more than I did at that moment.

But now, things are different. I no longer need to chase her, nor do I like her anymore.

Mr. Zeng frowned slightly, looking at me. The atmosphere between us grew awkward, but I wasn't about to leave. I still had plans involving him. Glancing at the uncut jade on the table, I remarked, "That's a good piece, Mr. Zeng."

He sat down, picking up the rough stone. "Not bad. But do you know what you're looking at? Don't try to con me with your father's old tricks. If it weren't for you, how could I have lost so badly at Jimao last time?"

I sat across from him, examining the jade. It had a green skin, thin as paper. When lit from behind, a faint green glow hinted at its potential. Likely material from the Dharmakan mines, semi-gambling grade. I said, "The material is good—Dharmakan jade with a mist layer and partial translucency. The crystals are fine, with decent water content and luster. A small piece, though. Could make pendants if it's free of cracks or impurities, but it's not suited for larger projects. Its market value might reach tens of thousands."

Hearing my assessment, Mr. Zeng scoffed, tossing the stone aside. "You're getting bolder with your words. Tens of thousands is small potatoes now, huh? Your father was bold too, gambling with stones worth three hundred thousand. Look where it got him—his life was the price!"

His cutting remarks stung, but I swallowed my anger and replied, "Mr. Zeng, my father is gone now. Regardless of how you felt about him, he drove for you for over a decade. If not for sentiment, at least for old times' sake, let him rest in peace. As for me, I've proven my skill in jade gambling in Ruili, helping others win significant sums. If you doubt me, feel free to ask around. I've dealt with materials worth over a billion yuan. Look, I even have photos."

I handed him my phone, showing pictures from the water restaurant gathering. Mr. Zeng glanced at them, his expression softening slightly before tossing the phone back to the table. "You were at that event? I heard it was hosted by Myanmar's Jade King. Without an invitation, entry was impossible. Seems you've been getting around."

I smiled. "A friend brought me along. We won over 200 million that day, and I got a one-million-yuan red envelope as thanks."

Mr. Zeng sneered but said nothing. I continued, "If you're interested, we could form a group for the upcoming jade auction. My friends and I are planning to pool billions for a big gamble. Let me know if you're interested."

I deliberately spoke with arrogance, knowing it would provoke him. A challenge works better than an invitation with someone like Mr. Zeng.

He frowned but didn't immediately respond. Despite his outward disdain, I could tell the idea intrigued him. Jade gambling was a passion of his—sometimes on a small scale, sometimes grander. The upcoming auction was an opportunity he wouldn't want to miss.

Feigning skepticism, he asked, "If you're so skilled, why don't you gamble on your own?"

"Gambling requires capital," I replied calmly. "I have skill but no funds, so I partner with others and split the profits. Remember when I hit your car? That was over four million. If I weren't capable, how could I have repaid you?"

Mr. Zeng stared at me, silent but clearly unsettled by the memory of that incident.

"Do you really have no romantic interest in my daughter?" he asked finally.

I smiled. "None whatsoever. I have a girlfriend, so you can rest assured."

Relieved, he nodded. "I've watched you grow up, and your word still holds some weight with me. But if you try anything with my daughter, I'll deal with you myself. When is this jade auction?"

"In a few months," I replied. "Before then, my friends and I plan some smaller bets. Let me know if you're interested. Just so you know, we're talking millions per piece—anything less is just scraps to us."

Mr. Zeng's expression darkened as he glanced at the jade on the table. "Hmph, this is just scrap to me too. I only picked it up for a simple pendant."

His words were clearly meant to sting, but I kept my composure. "Shall I inform you when we start?"

"Fine. Three million, five million—I can handle that. Now get out," he said coldly.

I stood, preparing to leave, when Zeng Hong suddenly descended the stairs. "Zhao Fei, come upstairs. I need to talk to you," she said.

Her change of clothes—a loose-fitting dress, her hair down—made her look like the girl next door. I was about to refuse when Mr. Zeng interjected. "Go. Clear things up," he ordered.

Reluctantly, I followed her upstairs. As soon as we reached her room—larger than my entire apartment—she pulled me inside, seated me, and curled up on the sofa, deliberately hitching her dress higher. Grabbing my hand, she said, "Don't listen to my father. He doesn't dislike you…"

I gently pushed her hand away. "He dislikes the current me. I understand. No father would want his daughter with a poor, aimless man. But he needn't worry—I only see you as a sister."

Before I could finish, she flung herself onto me, pinning me down. "Don't lie to me! I know you liked me—your kindness wasn't for nothing. Don't deny it!"

Her soft body pressed against mine, radiating warmth. The heavy scent of her perfume filled the air.

"Zhao Fei," she whispered seductively. "I was wrong before. Let's start over, please?"

"What perfume are you wearing?" I asked, my voice low.

"Nothing special… just regular perfume," she replied, flustered.

I gripped her face gently but firmly. "This perfume stirs impulses. It makes me want to tear your clothes apart. Do you understand what that could lead to?"

Instead of feeling ashamed, she smiled coyly. "If that's what you want, I'm willing to oblige…"

I seized her arms and flipped us over. Her breathing quickened as she gazed up at me with nervous anticipation, her chest rising and falling. She closed her eyes, waiting.

But I stood up, stepping away from her.

Her eyes flew open in shock. "Why… is it because of Xuan Ling? What does she have that I don't?" she demanded.

I chuckled coldly, offering no answer. This wasn't a comparison worth making—Zeng Hong wasn't even in the same league.