Chapter 83: Zhong Zhuohua’s dream of marrying into a wealthy family is shattered
At seven in the evening, the charity gala was set to begin, but at half past six, ZhÅng Zhuóhuá was still locked inside her room.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror; her milky-white skin was tinged with a pallor, completely devoid of color.
Even the stylist had noticed something was off, earlier asking if she was feeling unwell while doing her makeup.
The blush couldn’t restore the usual rosy glow to her face.
“Knock—knock—knock—” A series of urgent knocks came at the door.
“Miss! You’ll be late in half an hour, what are you doing?”
The door was locked from the inside; her manager couldn’t get in.
ZhÅng Zhuóhuá snapped back to reality, remembering she had to attend the charity gala, and got up to open the door.
Seeing her standing there unharmed, the manager exhaled in relief.
“If you don’t leave now, you’ll be late, and the media will make things worse, saying you’re acting like a diva!”
She shoved a limited edition clutch into ZhÅng Zhuóhuá’s hand. “Get in the car quickly, we’ll talk on the way.”
ZhÅng Zhuóhuá hesitated but said nothing, stepping out with no visible emotion.
The multilayered hand-painted organza haute couture dress hugged her graceful figure, each step swaying elegantly. The manager was at least satisfied with her state tonight.
Once in the steward car, the manager repeatedly reminded her to avoid giving off a cold expression while walking the red carpet.
In just two years, ZhÅng Zhuóhuá had swept nominations at several major mainstream film awards, ultimately winning two Best Actress crowns.
Now, countless eyes were watching her, waiting to pick apart any mistake.
No matter the event, the manager always reminded her to manage her expressions carefully, not to give the media any ammunition.
“Is Jiang Jingyuan going tonight?” ZhÅng Zhuóhuá asked, gazing out the car window.
The manager sighed silently. “I checked. He’s not coming. ZhÅng Zhuóhuá has been in a bad mood lately, all related to Jiang Jingyuan. They had a fiery relationship for several months but broke up recently.”
ZhÅng Zhuóhuá nodded after a long pause.
She faced away from the car interior; the manager couldn’t see her expression.
As they neared the charity gala venue, before getting out, the manager reminded her once more, “No matter what the reporters ask, even if they confront you directly about breaking up Jiang Jingyuan’s long-term first love, don’t show a cold face. Just pretend you didn’t hear it.”
Entertainment reporters on Hong Kong Island dared to ask anything; the manager worried that ZhÅng Zhuóhuá’s youthful temper might flare.
ZhÅng Zhuóhuá and Jiang Jingyuan had never been photographed together, but before they dated, they attended an event together.
Afterwards, Jiang Jingyuan had given her a ride, and paparazzi caught ZhÅng Zhuóhuá stepping out of the Jiang Family Third’s Hong Kong license car.
That photo surfaced just last month.
Overnight, rumors exploded everywhere.
That was when ZhÅng Zhuóhuá learned about Jiang Jingyuan’s intense past romance.
Jiang Jingyuan had close ties with one of Hong Kong Island’s prominent families, the Lu Family, and was especially close to their youngest son.
The Lu Family youngest son was a frequent figure in entertainment news; recently, reports about Jiang Jingyuan tied with the Lu playboy had created unprecedented buzz.
“Miss, did you hear what I said?”
ZhÅng Zhuóhuá’s stomach churned uncomfortably, and she gave a perfunctory “Mm.”
Knowing she’d attend the gala tonight, a swarm of reporters had gathered early at the entrance. The moment her steward car pulled up, they swarmed around her.
Even with bodyguards, ZhÅng Zhuóhuá could barely move after stepping out.
Cameras and microphones were pointed at her relentlessly.
She was at the peak of her fame—beautiful, talented, and always in the spotlight. Any slightest ripple made her the target of paparazzi ambush.
“Did you not know Jiang Jingyuan had a girlfriend?”
“They broke up because of you, how do you feel?”
“I heard you don’t mind Jiang Jingyuan having a girlfriend?”
As the reporters closed in, ZhÅng Zhuóhuá instinctively moved to cover her lower abdomen but quickly realized any gesture would be overanalyzed, so she raised her hand to shield her chest covered by the haute couture gown.
She forced a smile. “I’m still single, thank you for your concern.”
Yet the reporters were relentless: “Jiang Jingyuan loved his first love so much, but his father broke them up. Aren’t you worried dating him?”
ZhÅng Zhuóhuá laughed: “I wish I were worried, but unfortunately, I never got the chance. Why don’t you ask Jiang Jingyuan next time you see him if he wants to date me?”
She flatly denied that they had ever been together.
Escorted by her bodyguards, she finally squeezed through the crowd and entered the venue.
The interview wasn’t published until the next day.
ZhÅng Zhuóhuá’s story filled an entire page, the headline boldly stating: #ZhÅng Zhuóhuá’s Dream of Marrying into a Wealthy Family Shattered#
At that moment, Jiang Jingyuan was in a small town in Jiangcheng, specially there to congratulate a friend on their award.
Yu Laoshi poured a cup of flower tea for the friend. “A congratulatory call would’ve been enough, I never saw you so concerned about me before.”
Jiang Jingyuan sipped silently, unusually without retorting.
Yu Laoshi glanced at the new phone on the table. “Is this the Cai Screen Mobile?”
Jiang Jingyuan responded distractedly, “Mm.”
There were no Cai Screen Mobiles available domestically yet. Yu Laoshi inspected it. “What’s the difference from black-and-white screens?”
“The screen’s in color.”
Yu Laoshi: “……I already know that. Don’t act like it’s some big deal!”
She opened it up; aside from the color screen, nothing else seemed extraordinary.
“Do you know the new landline number I installed at home?”
Jiang Jingyuan forgot to save it. “Look it up in the phonebook.”
“You should save it anyway. When you call the landline, don’t call my mobile. Last month, just answering your calls cost me tens of yuan.”
Yu Laoshi saved the landline number as she spoke.
“I don’t know when the double-charging system will be canceled. A friend said maybe after 2000, but if it really gets canceled, receiving calls will be free. You could call me every day then.”
Her concern was genuine.
Jiang Jingyuan was speechless.
“The landline number’s saved, it’s the first one.” Yu Laoshi reminded him again, “Don’t call my mobile unless it’s urgent.”
He muttered to himself the whole time; his friend didn’t reply a word.
Only the soft clicks of the phone keys filled the room when a melodious voice came from the courtyard.
“The little river winds southward, flowing to Xianggan to have a look.
‘Song of the Pearl of the Orient, my love, does your charm remain as romantic as ever…’”
For some reason, Jiang Jingyuan felt inexplicably reminded of ZhÅng Zhuóhuá when he heard that song.
Mrs. Yu had bought some freshly harvested loquats at the market and grabbed a newspaper on the way past the newsstand.
Entering and seeing Jiang Jingyuan at her home, she was surprised. “Why didn’t you call ahead? Where’s your car? Didn’t you drive?”
No car was parked outside.
“The driver took it for maintenance,” Jiang Jingyuan replied.
“There’s not much food at home. I’ll ask Ayi to buy some.”
“No need to trouble yourself, just eat whatever’s here.”
Jiang Jingyuan had no appetite. Coming to a friend’s house, he just wanted a quiet place to stay for a couple of days.
Mrs. Yu placed the newspaper on the table and went to wash the loquats in the kitchen.
Jiang Jingyuan flipped through the day’s paper, unusually skipping the finance section and going straight to entertainment.
The headline caught his eye: #ZhÅng Zhuóhuá’s Dream of Marrying into a Wealthy Family Shattered#
Most of the article was speculation by the reporters, but Jiang Jingyuan’s gaze locked onto the quote from ZhÅng Zhuóhuá: “I’ve always been single, thank you.”
Everything the reporters quoted was directly from her mouth, nothing fabricated.
They’d already broken up; she outright denied any relationship, and Jiang Jingyuan understood.
His phone rang, showing “Lu Jianbo” as the caller.
Yu Laoshi handed him the phone. “The playboy’s calling.”
Jiang Jingyuan was annoyed just seeing that name and answered sharply, “Make it quick.”
“I just bought you a Cai Screen Mobile, and this is how you treat me?”
Jiang Jingyuan was straightforward, “You only bought the Cai Screen Mobile because you wanted something from me.”
His patience wore thin. “Say what you want or I’m hanging up.”
Lu Jianbo didn’t bother with mood swings. “I heard about today’s entertainment news from my secretary. ZhÅng Zhuóhuá is rumored to have interfered. Why don’t you clear things up? Wouldn’t that be simple?”
Jiang Jingyuan was silent for a few seconds. “We broke up. She doesn’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Who broke up with whom?”
“She did.”
Lu Jianbo finally understood why Jiang Jingyuan was in a bad mood—it turned out he had been dumped.
“You got dumped by ZhÅng Zhuóhuá, don’t take it out on me. It’s not like I told her to dump you.”
Jiang Jingyuan warned, “Don’t say her name aloud; someone might be listening.”
“I’m at the F1 Circuit, they can’t understand what I’m saying. Only ZhÅu Yunlian understands. Are you afraid he’ll overhear?”
“Don’t tell him either.”
“Fine, fine! I won’t tell ZhÅu Yunlian you got dumped again.”
Lu Jianbo hadn’t eaten breakfast and went to the dining area to find food.
“How’s that half-conductor enterprise you wanted to invest in?”
Jiang Jingyuan was about to answer when familiar voices came from the other end.
“Steak? Lamb chops? Want the chef to cook some for you?”
“No.”
“Dessert?”
“No.”
“Noodles?”
“No.”
“Seafood rice?”
ZhÅu Yunlian was asking his son what he wanted to eat.
Jiang Jingyuan found it hard to imagine what kind of child ZhÅu Yunlian could raise, given how indulgent he was.
Lu Jianbo pinched ZhÅu ShÃyì’s cheeks. “Why so picky? Even pickier than my brother.”
After teasing the child, he casually ordered something and returned to his seat.
“ZhÅu ShÃyì’s really hard to handle, much more than my son.” Lu Jianbo sipped his coffee. “Forgot you’re single. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Eat your food,” Jiang Jingyuan said.
He wasn’t in the mood to chat, especially with someone watching the Grand Prix.
After hanging up, he closed the newspaper and didn’t look further.
Across the table, Yu Laoshi studied him thoughtfully. “Came here to heal a broken heart?”
If it weren’t for that call, he wouldn’t have known Jiang Jingyuan and ZhÅng Zhuóhuá had already broken up.
Yu Laoshi knew this friend well enough to be sure he wouldn’t go back to her.
“You invested big in Deep Water Bay land…” Before the house was even built, they broke up. “So are you still planning to stay on Hong Kong Island?”
Jiang Jingyuan wiped his hands and started peeling loquats.
It wasn’t that he pretended not to hear Yu Laoshi’s question—he was asking himself the same thing.
Other than a few major projects, there weren’t many opportunities to live permanently on Hong Kong Island.
After eating five or six loquats, he finally spoke, “We’ll see.”
“Did you get broadband installed at home?” Yu Laoshi changed the subject.
“Finally got in line at the beginning of this year. The speed’s a bit slow; you’ll have to make do.”
Jiang Jingyuan wondered how slow it could be. After three minutes with the webpage still loading, he realized just how slow Yu Laoshi’s “slow” really was.
“Maybe the computer’s old,” Yu Laoshi added.
Jiang Jingyuan:
He closed the page. It wasn’t slow internet—it was an ancient computer that couldn’t run properly.
“I’ll get you a new computer. You can pick one out sometime.”
Yu Laoshi joked, “Been waiting to hear you say that.”
He usually didn’t need a computer; speed didn’t matter to him.
Jiang Jingyuan shut the computer and called Lu Jianbo to ask about the amount of negative rumors circulating about ZhÅng Zhuóhuá online.
Although few families had computers now, they would gradually become common in five or ten years.
“Buy out whatever they have for me.”
As for printed newspapers, once sold, no one could recall or destroy them all.
Lu Jianbo nibbled some fries from a nearby child and said into the phone, “Consider it done.”
Little ZhÅu Shíyì looked at him. “Don’t eat it all.”
Jiang Jingyuan continued, “You’re close with the media, right? Help me buy all the gossip about ZhÅng Zhuóhuá they have.”
Lu Jianbo poured cold water.
“I’m not that close. Besides, she’s no ordinary person; once something’s over, it’s over. She’s a star with plenty of enemies and people who don’t want her to do well. You can’t buy them all.”
“Buy as much as you can.”
“Still so concerned even though she broke up with you?”
Jiang Jingyuan dodged the question. “You’re busy.”
He hung up and sat alone in the study for a long time.
It had been almost three weeks since he and ZhÅng Zhuóhuá parted. He sent her messages, but she never replied.
“Knock—knock—” Yu Laoshi knocked on the door, calling him for dinner.
“Coming.”
He stared at his contact list for a moment and finally dialed ZhÅng Zhuóhuá’s manager.
After two tries, someone answered.
“Mr. Jiang, what’s the instruction?”
“Tell ZhÅng Zhuóhuá I’ll be in Hong Kong tomorrow. I want to have a proper talk with her in the evening.”