Chapter 31: Sheng Yang Is Your Criminal Record

It was Ning Lang who finally broke the stalemate.

He clicked his tongue and remarked with a playful sneer, "Isn’t this going a bit too far? Dragging a young woman’s name through the mud just to force me to drink?"

In his mouth, the fact that Wen Jin and Sheng Yang had been in a relationship was reduced to nothing more than mud-slinging.

Sheng Yang’s brow furrowed deeply, his displeasure evident. Yet, Ning Lang seemed not to notice. He raised an eyebrow, meeting Sheng Yang’s gaze directly without the slightest hint of retreat. "I wasn't aware you and Wen Jin had ever been together; you certainly never admitted to it."

His tone was casual, yet his words were exceptionally sharp. "Sheng Yang, we haven't seen each other in years, but surely you don't need to lie to me like this?"

The intent to protect Wen Jin was glaringly obvious. It also served to solidify the narrative that there was absolutely nothing between Sheng Yang and Wen Jin.

And yet, no one dared to refute him.

Sheng Yang had indeed never admitted to being in a relationship with Wen Jin; at most, he would dismiss her with a comment about how clingy she was.

Wen Jin stood beside Ning Lang, casting a contemplative glance his way, though she remained silent. In a sense, her silence served as tacit agreement with Ning Lang’s words.

Sheng Yang’s gaze remained fixed on her, the emotions he had been harboring now entirely reined in. He knew perfectly well how much Wen Jin had once longed for him to acknowledge their relationship, yet here she was, voluntarily denying it.

He shifted his gaze to Ning Lang, one eyebrow arching—Wen Jin was doing this on purpose. She was deliberately saying these things, using tactics that looked painfully like the sort of petty jealousy he found beneath her. Trying to provoke him with a third party?

Sheng Yang lifted his chin slightly, the cold, heavy air dissipating. He lazily shifted his focus back to Ning Lang. "Since you also know it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, why the rush to leave?"

Ning Lang took Wen Jin’s hand and curled his lips into a smile. "It’s not that I’m in a rush, but even if I wanted to hang out with you all, I have to see her home first."

"There’s no need for that." Sheng Yang looked at the hand Ning Lang was holding and spoke slowly. "It’s not like she’s someone to be hidden away. Why not stay and join us?"

Though phrased as a question, Sheng Yang looked at Wen Jin with intent, as if asking her directly.

Truth be told, Wen Jin did not want to stay. She was no masochist. Perhaps before, she had been forced to swallow her pride and yield because she needed Sheng Yang’s help regarding Wen Chaosheng’s situation. But now, she no longer needed him, and she had no desire to compromise herself any further.

However, judging by Sheng Yang’s demeanor, she probably wouldn't be able to leave easily. After all, it was Ning Lang’s homecoming banquet; she couldn't afford to make a scene. She simply leaned in and whispered to Ning Lang, "I’ll wait for you. It’s the same thing."

The words "I’ll wait for you" were light, yet crystal clear, as if she and Ning Lang were truly that intimate.

Before Ning Lang could respond, a soft scoff from Sheng Yang cut through the air. His voice was flat. "It’s just a game. Don’t make it sound like a tragic parting."

As his voice faded, Zhao Yimo waved a hand dismissively. "Come on, Ning Lang, you’ve got no excuse now. You’re the guest of honor today—what’s the point of the party if you leave?"

He stepped forward and draped an arm over Ning Lang’s shoulder. "Let’s go, let’s go."

Ning Lang, who had been holding Wen Jin’s hand, was forced to let go by the interruption. He glanced at Wen Jin with concern, but she gave a slight shake of her head to show she was fine.

Sheng Yang, standing nearby, took in their interaction, a flash of irony crossing his eyes. He spoke coolly, "It seems you’re quite fond of Ning Lang?"

Wen Jin remained where she stood, and when she lifted her face, she met Sheng Yang’s gaze directly. It was hard to describe the feeling. In the past, she rarely saw Sheng Yang even once a fortnight, as he always had some excuse about how busy he was. Yet, recently, it felt as though he could appear anywhere she went.

To be honest, Wen Jin didn't want to see him. She turned to leave, only to hear Sheng Yang’s voice, neither light nor heavy, behind her: "A piece of well-meant advice: the Ning family has very high standards for a daughter-in-law. You won't reach them."

Wen Jin understood his implication perfectly; it was just more of his usual rhetoric about her trying to climb the social ladder, or perhaps another demand that she "know her place." It all boiled down to the same thing, and it was utterly tiresome.

Her eyes shifted toward a certain direction. Wen Jin spoke softly, "Instead of worrying about me, President Sheng, it would be more appropriate to concern yourself with your own fiancée."

The moment she finished speaking, Wen You happened to walk over. Wen Jin lowered her eyelashes, masking her emotions, and turned to leave. She wasn't short—standing at 170 centimeters—but because she was so thin, she appeared somewhat fragile. Yet, her straight back signaled that every step she took was firm and resolute.

Sheng Yang watched her retreating figure, an inexplicable discomfort stirring within him—a mix of irritation and a sense that things shouldn't be this way.

It was Wen You’s voice that broke his train of thought. "Sheng Yang?"

He withdrew his gaze and looked at Wen You, forcibly suppressing the strange sensation in his chest. But when he spoke, his voice was inevitably cold. "What is it?"

-

Wen Jin didn't wait for Ning Lang. She left the Wenshan Villa directly and sent him a message saying she had headed home.

Qiaoqiao was waiting for her outside. Seeing her emerge, she exclaimed dramatically, "Wow, you came out in one piece! I guess those people didn't do anything too wicked today!"

Wen Jin couldn't help but laugh. "You make them sound like terrorists."

"Terrorists might not even be as bad as them," Qiaoqiao retorted. None of these young masters and socialites were normal; they didn't treat ordinary people like human beings.

Song Heng acted quickly. While Wen Jin was still on her way home, she received a call from the prison informing her that the incident between Wen Chaosheng and Wen Tao would be reinvestigated. At that moment, Wen Jin’s heart finally settled.

Qiaoqiao smiled and said, "This is wonderful news. It calls for a celebration."

With that, she turned the car toward a bar. "Tonight, the male models are all on me, Miss Qiao!"

Wen Jin was drinking water and nearly choked at her words. Qiaoqiao wasn't joking; she genuinely called over four male models. She was used to such entertainment venues and was in her element. Wen Jin, however, was experiencing this for the first time and felt awkward and uneasy.

When Qiaoqiao told a model to pour Wen Jin a drink, Wen Jin couldn't help but protest, "Don't do that, I'm a bit uncomfortable." Qiaoqiao just laughed, her spirits high.

As the night hit its peak, Qiaoqiao took a bunch of photos and posted them directly to her social media.

Back at Wenshan Villa, after several rounds of drinks, everyone was resting. Zhao Yimo was scrolling through his feed when he suddenly exclaimed, "So that’s why Wen Jin left—she was rushing to the next party."

The comment drew several eyes toward him. Sheng Yang’s voice was low. "What next party?"

Zhao Yimo shoved his phone in front of him. "Look, she’s at a bar. Seems like she’s having quite a wild time."

The image he opened was a live photo: a male model with his shirt half-open was holding a wine glass, leaning in to feed Wen Jin. In the dim, moody lighting, the atmosphere between the two appeared exceptionally intimate.

Sheng Yang’s face remained unreadable, but Ning Lang, sitting nearby, spoke up with a smile. "How is that 'wild'? She doesn't have a boyfriend; there’s no need for her to remain chaste for anyone."

As he said this, Ning Lang’s gaze rested squarely on Sheng Yang, as if he were saying it specifically for his benefit.

Sheng Yang raised his eyelids to look at Ning Lang, his tone unchanged. "You’re quite broad-minded."

Everyone present could see Ning Lang’s feelings for Wen Jin. The fact that he could look at a photo of her with male models and still defend her—that was indeed being broad-minded.

Ning Lang showed no sign of feeling pitied. Holding his glass, he smiled at Sheng Yang. "Likewise. You’re not exactly narrow-minded yourself."

The air between the two men was thick with subtle, flickering tension. Finally, Ning Lang set his glass down and stood up. "That’s enough for me. I’m heading out."

No one dared to stop him this time, though Zhao Yimo muttered, "Is he going home, or going to find Wen Jin? I told you, he’s acting weird."

After speaking, he felt someone’s gaze land on him. Zhao Yimo tilted his head and looked up, only to find Sheng Yang watching him. His mind went blank for a second, and just as he was about to ask what was wrong, he heard Sheng Yang say, "I have things to attend to at the company. I’m leaving."

The moment he stepped out, someone suddenly remarked, "Is it the company that has issues, or is it Wen Jin? I think he’s acting strange, too."