"Ugh, what's so great about having a boyfriend at your age? He's probably just a kid. A private jet? More likely Mommy and Daddy rented it for him. Those Second-generation rich types are nothing special—still living off their parents."
When the middle-aged man badmouthed Jiang Cheng, Zhou Ying couldn't hold back. "What's wrong with a Second-generation rich? At least he's young and handsome—exactly my type."
"Ah, you don't get it, girl. Those guys specialize in tricking sweet, naive girls. Looks are worthless. I was a hunk once; so what? Had a few bucks in my pocket then. Look at me now—I spend my own money, buy whatever I want. Take this bag on your friend behind you: I bought it. You women love this stuff, right? Like it? Uncle can buy you one too..."
"I've already got a few bags like that—my boyfriend bought them. He owns three companies and calls all the shots with his money. And I think it's the older guys who know every trick in the book." Zhou Ying shot the man a glare, then glanced pointedly at the young secretary behind him.
"Companies? At his age? What kind of scale could they be? Stop joking. Tell me the names—I bet I've never heard of them. My company's different: massive, worth billions."
"Not interested. Please leave."
The man wouldn't give up. "Stubborn little thing, huh? I like that. How about a trip overseas? Foreign luxuries, pick whatever you fancy."
Seeing his sleazy stare, Zhou Ying cut him coldly. "Luxury brands? Meh. Oh, last month he bought me a bentley continental. Uncle, why don't you buy one for your secretary too?"
Hearing that, the man's brow knitted.
A bentley continental cost millions. He couldn't even bring himself to buy one for himself, let alone gift it.
But behind him the newly hired secretary's eyes lit up. He had to save face. "Just behave, girls, and cars will come sooner or later."
Zhou Ying gave him a disgusted look and said nothing more.
As she turned to leave, the man grabbed her arm. "Hey, why so hasty? Give me your contacts."
"Don't touch me! Harassment? I'll call the cops."
"Relax, I'm only asking for a number."
At that moment Jiang Cheng hurried out of the private terminal.
He spotted Zhou Ying beside a greasy older man and a pretty young woman.
Seeing the man manhandling her, Jiang Cheng's face chilled; he glanced at Wang Sheng.
Wang Sheng strode over, swatted the man's paw away, then twisted his arm hard.
"Fuck! That hurts! Who are you? Let go, damn it!" the man screeched.
With Wang Sheng holding the man, Jiang Cheng walked toward Zhou Ying.
"Babe, you okay?"
Seeing him, Zhou Ying dashed over and threw her arms around him. "Jiang Cheng, I missed you."
Gazing at her pure beauty, Jiang Cheng bent and kissed her.
"Who the hell are you, punk? Know who I am? Let me go! You're dead meat!" the man screamed.
Once he released Zhou Ying, Jiang Cheng studied the man's familiar face in surprise.
"Jiang Cheng?
Jiang Cheng raised an eyebrow. "Uncle Qin?
Zhou Ying frowned. "You two know each other?
,
Dad's company used to cooperate with him—Uncle Qin Cheng.
Qin Cheng spoke first. "Lucky boy—just a misunderstanding. Tell these blind dogs to let go.
His last words reeked of gunpowder.
"What's the big idea? Break my arm? Could you afford it?
When Jiang Cheng gave a nod, Wang Sheng released the arm with a twist. The joint popped out of place.
Qin Cheng howled, clutching his dislocated arm.
His face turned white. He glared at Wang Sheng and Jiang Cheng. "Bastard—what the hell? I'm your elder! How dare you?
Jiang Cheng frowned, teasing: "Uncle Qin… new secretary again?"
Qin's face soured.
He was taking her on a secret honeymoon—hence the discreet private flight.
Private terminals were nearly empty.
If they'd flown commercial, he could have bumped into someone, and his tigress wife would have skinned him. His last fling had been dragged out by her hair and fired.
He never thought he'd meet Old Jiang's son at the private airport.
Old friends knew each other's dirt.
Now Qin had a handle on him.
He glowered at Jiang Cheng: "Jiang's little brat, we're done here. You'd better keep your mouth shut."
He turned toward the parking lot instead of the terminal.
The secretary hurried after him.
"Boss… we're not going to the Maldives?
,
Fuck the Maldives! My arm's wrecked—take me to the hospital.
He glanced back.
Jiang Cheng was already climbing into a black rolls-royce with Wang Sheng and a team of Bodyguards.
He was puzzled.
Isn't Old Jiang's son still in college?
But he'll settle the broken-arm score someday.
If Jiang Cheng didn't know about the tigress at home, Qin wouldn't have retreated so humiliated...