Seeing the name on the system, Jiang Cheng immediately recalled that this woman was the young actress Emma Watson had just mentioned.
The one who hadn't settled for five hundred thousand dollars a moment ago.
Admittedly, she was as young and beautiful as Emma Watson claimed.
And her figure was enough to make anyone's blood race.
Besides, a privacy value like hers wasn't especially high in a liberal place like this.
Yet the apology Jiang Cheng had planned died on his tongue; her inexplicable, disdainful attitude annoyed him.
His face darkened and he couldn't help jabbing, "Nothing worth seeing—kinda saggy, isn't it?"
Hearing such a crude remark, Jessica flushed with rage and mortification.
Her proud, perfectly rounded chest—idolized by countless fans—was being called saggy?
She rolled her eyes at him and snapped, "I really don't know what Emma Watson sees in you. Or did she rush off because you're so obnoxious?"
Her prejudice wasn't just because Jiang Cheng looked Asian.
A bigger reason was that he was fooling around with Emma.
Ever since her debut she'd been dubbed "Little Emma."
With almost identical on-screen styles, the media loved to pit them against each other.
Gradually the two had slipped into an unspoken rivalry.
To her, Jiang Cheng—who fancied Emma—had abysmal taste.
She'd spotted Jiang Cheng and Emma inside the glass pavilion; Qin Fen and the others weren't the only ones watching.
After all, Emma Watson was her rival, and Jessica kept close tabs on her.
As far as she knew, Emma was a total looks snob who dated only for handsome faces and bodies, never for money or status.
Jessica didn't deny Jiang Cheng was strikingly good-looking.
But unlike Emma, she cared far more about cash than appearances.
She'd just watched Emma leave and Jiang Cheng instantly start a flirty video call with another girl.
Not only did the man have lousy taste, he was clearly a scumbag.
"My manners depend on who I'm dealing with. Fifty too low? How about sixty bucks?"
The words made Jessica Alexander even angrier; she glared and accused, "You were eavesdropping?"
"The yard isn't yours. You two were the ones shouting for everyone to hear."
Jessica Alexander was about to snap again, but Jiang Cheng's higher offer gave her pause.
As Jiang Cheng lifted his left hand, his cuff slid back to reveal the watch on his wrist.
Jessica's eyes widened in shock.
Wasn't that a Patek Philippe Grand Complication minute-repeater?
Patek made countless models, but only a handful were top-tier; Jessica recognized it at once.
At Oswald's private club, everyone was somebody—he wouldn't wear a fake, would he?
A single watch worth over three million dollars suddenly made Jiang Cheng far more interesting.
Anyone who spent like that had to be worth at least a billion.
Compared with the party's greasy, balding older men, being scolded by a young tycoon felt almost pleasant.
With that thought, Jessica Alexander stepped closer, her slim fingers toying with his lapel as she smiled seductively: "Sixty's still too low—minimum a hundred dollars."
Jessica's sudden warmth drew a mocking smile from Jiang Cheng.
For the latter option, he might actually agree.
After all, novelty had its appeal.
Jessica Alexander, rising international star, was several tiers above the Victoria's Secret angel he'd met two nights ago.