Chapter 32: How Much I Lend You Depends on Your Performance Tonight

"No, Third Brother, what's going on?" Wen Xiu was astonished to hear his usually calm and composed third brother so flustered.
"Wen Wan has found out! She discovered that I sent people to retaliate against that boy all those years ago. Now she wants an all-out war with me!"
"What?" Wen Xiu felt a barrage of questions flooding his mind.
"Six years ago! I told you about it—the boy who saved Wen Wan back then, his name is Chen Luo!"
"Oh, right, I remember now."
Only now did Wen Xiu recall: six years ago, Wen Wan had risen rapidly within the family and gained their father’s favor, suppressing them on all fronts.
At the time, an important resource belonging to Wen Min had been reassigned to Wen Wan, leaving him furious. In his rage, he took it out on Chen Luo, the boy who’d saved Wen Wan.
He’d sent his men to deal with Chen Luo, but failed.
For people of their privileged status, the life of an ordinary child was nothing to them—if they wanted someone dead, they simply did it.
But Wen Wan had uncovered the truth, and now she was out for Wen Min’s blood. This was deadly serious.
Wen Xiu was afraid of that madwoman Wen Wan, and so was Wen Min!
If it truly came to a fight to the death, even if Wen Min won, the cost would be devastating. He’d lose his standing as heir for sure.
"Fifth Brother! You have to help me this time!"
"My forces in Hangzhou are useless—Wen Wan has them all blocked off! But you’ve been operating there for years; you still have influence."
"Wen Wan values this Chen Luo highly. He’s currently in the Finance Department at Hangzhou University. If you find him and deliver him to Wen Wan, it’ll vent her fury—half of it, at least. Then I can negotiate with her."
"If you succeed, I’ll give you twenty percent of my auction house shares!"
At the mention of twenty percent, Wen Xiu’s eyes lit up.
Wen Min’s auction company owned more than a dozen houses. Twenty percent of that meant over a billion yuan in pure profit each year.
"Alright, Third Brother, I’ll give it a try. Wait for my news."
"Thank you, Fifth Brother! Hurry—she’s making a move in three days. I’ll pull back and defend, but at most I can give you two weeks."
"If you can’t get her to back down in two weeks, I’ll have no choice but to fight her to the end!"
"And if I go down, you won’t escape either!"
The call ended with a series of busy tones. Wen Xiu still hadn’t quite processed what had happened.
The once lofty Third Brother, a dominant figure in the world of auctions and antiques, now panicking like a cornered rat—life truly was full of surprises.

"Chen Luo, at Hangzhou University?"
"But I can’t get into Hangzhou right now. If I send anyone, they’ll be intercepted by Wen Wan’s people. Wait—of course, I can use someone from the university."
"That fool from Hangzhou University who’s been buttering me up lately—what’s his name again?" Wen Xiu scrolled through his phone for several minutes.
"Found it. Liu Feng, from a family in the restaurant business. He’ll do."
"He’s useful enough in Hangzhou. Snatching a college student shouldn’t be hard for him."
With that, he began to call Liu Feng.

Late at night, Imperial Mansion, Villa No. 1.

"Hic~" Wen Wan let out a delicate hiccup, then picked up her handkerchief and dabbed her lips.
"Was the meal to your liking, Madam Wen?"
"Perfect in color, aroma, and taste. Five stars. Thank you for the dinner."
"My apologies if the hospitality was lacking."
Chen Luo rose to clear the table. When he looked up, his cheeks were covered in lipstick marks—dozens, nearly every inch of skin.
Just a moment ago, Wen Wan had kissed him after every bite of food.
Chen Luo had tried to dodge, but Wen Wan held him firmly in place.
"A meal should be paired with a side dish, don’t you think? You want me to just eat plain rice?"
"But you didn’t prepare any side dishes."
"Says who? You’re my dish—delightful to the eyes and palate. A bite of rice, a bite of you—delicious."
Fine, as long as you’re happy.
So, for ten minutes, sitting on her lap, he was kissed dozens of times, his face nearly numb from her affection.
So when you say perfect in color, I suppose you mean my looks.
And the aroma—does that refer to the food, or to me?
"Enough tidying. Come, carry me upstairs."
Wen Wan stood, wrapped her arms around his neck. "Isn’t it time for dessert after dinner, my dear husband? What do you have planned?"
"Alright, however you want it, that’s how I’ll do it."
Chen Luo bent down and swept Wen Wan into his arms, carrying her out of the kitchen and up the stairs in a princess carry.

Feeling the strength of his arms, Wen Wan was filled with a sense of security, resting her head contentedly on his chest, listening to his heartbeat with a smile of satisfaction.

Down below, Mo Lan witnessed the scene. She couldn’t help but smile at the lipstick marks on Chen Luo’s face—the couple’s quirks were truly unique.
Seeing the bliss on Wen Wan’s face, Mo Lan’s heart fluttered with joy. She clenched her fists in excitement as she watched them ascend.
She’s finally happy! Well done, Chen Luo! It’s been so long since I’ve seen Madam Wen smile like that!
I’ll do my best to give you more opportunities like this! Keep it up! Hold her often, make her laugh! Perhaps one day her illness will heal on its own!

Chen Luo carried Wen Wan into the heavenly suite. They sat on the sofa, still in the princess carry.
Wen Wan buried herself against his neck, the two of them breathing deeply, their passion rising.

"I want my dessert now," she whispered.

With a playful bite, Wen Wan sank her teeth into Chen Luo’s neck, then kissed and sucked fiercely, as if to draw out his very essence.
Chen Luo felt his body go numb, goosebumps prickling his skin.
But he didn’t push her away. This intoxicating, almost painful pleasure was oddly sweet.

After two or three minutes, Wen Wan finally let go.
A red mark blossomed on Chen Luo’s neck, larger than the one she’d left before.

"How was it? The after-dinner strawberry—tasty, wasn’t it?"
Wen Wan giggled mischievously. Chen Luo, chin resting on her head, suddenly remembered he still had something important to discuss.

"Wait, Wen Wan, I just remembered—I want to open a bubble tea shop, but I haven’t asked you for startup capital."
"Oh, talking money ruins the mood, you know," Wen Wan said, her arms still around his neck and a wicked smile on her lips.
"So you won’t lend it to me? Afraid I won’t pull my weight?"
"No, I’m saying I’ll lend it to you—but how much depends on your performance tonight."