Chapter 78: The Jealous King Takes the Stage

A storm of tension surged between the two men, dark and foreboding. In an instant, the air grew taut—charged with an invisible current sparked by their locked gazes. Zuo Qingyan's spine straightened inch by inch. Well, well. This was the first time he had encountered such brazen arrogance. But no matter—he adored people like that. Because he excelled at showing the arrogant the true meaning of despair.

His eyes swept over Fu Liangmu from head to toe. That outfit—either designer or custom-tailored—reeked of wealth. It seemed tonight's bar revenues were about to hit a record high.

With a grand wave of his hand, Zuo Qingyan barked, "Bring out my prized bottle!"

The waiter visibly flinched. "Boss, are you sure?"

Boss? Fu Liangmu's brows knitted subtly. No wonder. Perhaps this man, like Xie Cheng, was an experienced player in matters of the heart. No wonder he could so easily snatch away a naïve and innocent girl like Su Wanwan.

"If I lose," Fu Liangmu said calmly, "I'll pay for the wine."

"But if you lose, it's on you."

"What do you say?"

Fu Liangmu nodded coldly.

Soon, the waiter returned with the bottle held reverently in both hands, gesturing for the crowd to step back. Xie Cheng's eyes narrowed—he instantly recognized the bottle's origin. This man was no ordinary opponent. Still, it was obvious he intended to extort Fu Liangmu. Unfortunately for him, everyone who had tried that before had paid a terrible price.

"God, am I seeing things? Is that the legendary Lai Mao?" someone gasped.

The waiter beamed. "Yes. Distilled in 1935. One bottle fetches over ten million."

The crowd buzzed in disbelief. Who would've thought a simple dice game would escalate to such heights? Unfathomable!

The crowd thickened quickly. All were eager to witness the showdown.

"Our boss has been running this bar for over a decade—never lost a single time!" the staff swore.

"Yeah, that bottle's been gathering dust for years. Finally, a chance to sell it!"

"He's been worrying no one would ever buy it. Now we've finally found a sucker—oops, I mean a worthy customer!"

Both men raised their hands in unison. Zuo Qingyan brimmed with confidence—after all, he'd never once lost at his own game.

And yet... this time, he did.

He watched in disbelief as Fu Liangmu's slender fingers enveloped the dice cup, flicking it with such finesse that the dice rattled crisply, dancing like petals in a whirlwind. The motion was so swift it left afterimages in the air.

Zuo Qingyan's temple twitched.

Why did he suddenly feel such an ominous sense of dread?

Su Wanwan emerged from the restroom only to find Zuo Qingyan missing. She headed straight for the largest gathering—and sure enough, there he was. Mask off, face flushed red. It was unclear whether from rage or drink.

"You lost again?"

"No way!"

"You've got to be cheating!"

Zuo Qingyan stared in disbelief, mouth twitching as he let out a boozy burp.

Fu Liangmu, in stark contrast, sat cross-legged, calm and arrogant.

"Concede yet?"

Zuo Qingyan opened his mouth, but paused when he saw Su Wanwan nearby. He shouted dramatically, "Baby! Someone's bullying me!"

Su Wanwan frowned in disgust. She took one step back, but Zuo Qingyan latched onto her tightly.

"Help me!"

Fu Liangmu's pupils contracted.

Zuo Qingyan pulled her hard, and Su Wanwan lost her footing, tumbling directly into his arms. Before she could steady herself, a cold hand seized hers and tugged her into another embrace—Fu Liangmu's.

"It's rather rude, don't you think, to manhandle a lady?" His voice dropped, deeper and rougher than before.

The familiar tone echoed in Su Wanwan's ears, unsettlingly recognizable.

Zuo Qingyan instantly flared up. His gaze chilled, and the atmosphere plummeted.

"She's my baby—who the hell are you to interfere?"

"Take your filthy hands off her!"

"Don't touch her!"

"Wanwan, come here."

Without hesitation, Su Wanwan struggled out of Fu Liangmu's grasp and glared at him.

Shameless man, taking advantage of me?

"You're drunk beyond reason. Stop it already." She scolded Zuo Qingyan, giving his chin a firm pat.

He belched and slumped onto her petite frame, head resting on her shoulder, utterly dazed.

To Fu Liangmu, however, this sight was intolerable. His eyes flared with fury as he yanked Zuo Qingyan by the collar and flung him aside.

The waiters moved in sync, all eyes on Su Wanwan, awaiting her command.

"What are you doing?!" she exclaimed, horrified. Her glare cut through Fu Liangmu like a blade. His heart clenched—she was glaring at him... over another man?

"Don't tell me you don't recognize me, Miss Su?" Fu Liangmu asked, his voice low and calm. "We met not long ago... at the Maestro's residence."

Su Wanwan stared at his masked face. Slowly, the image overlapped with a memory.

"You're... F?"

Fu Liangmu nodded.

Instead of softening, her expression grew stormier.

"Mister, even if we know each other, that doesn't give you the right to meddle in my affairs."

She helped Zuo Qingyan to his feet and passed him to a waiter. "Take him to rest."

"Let's talk. In private." Fu Liangmu turned and walked away, not giving her a chance to refuse.

Xie Cheng was left standing awkwardly, unsure what to do.

Outside the private room, now hushed and dim, the two stood face to face.

"If I recall correctly, Miss Su is married," Fu Liangmu said, voice sharp. "And your husband… isn't that man, is he?"

Su Wanwan was stunned by the audacity of this man's gossip. They had met only once. By all logic, they should never have crossed paths again. Yet here he was—not only reappearing, but confronting her second brother.

In her heart, her eldest brother, second brother, Xia Kelan, and the clan leader were the people she most wanted to protect.

"Sir, I was indeed grateful for your help at the Music Hall."

"But that doesn't entitle you to interfere in my life."

Moreover, the clan affairs were none of an outsider's business.

Fu Liangmu listened to her icy words and replied indifferently, "I'm merely curious—what would your husband say if he knew you were so close with another man?"

"That's none of your concern!" she snapped, each word like ice.

With that, she turned to leave—only for Fu Liangmu to seize her wrist.

A sudden shove sent her reeling backward, spine pressed to the cold tiles. He pinned her wrist beside her head, her body caged beneath his.

His breath—cool, minty—lingered at her nose.

"And what if I insist on meddling?"