Compared with Jiang Churan's reserve, the other Girls on the floor were unabashedly wild.
They sprayed alcohol toward the dance floor without the slightest restraint, even competing over whose technique was flashier.
"Ugh, what kind of spray was that? Such a waste—yours barely reached anywhere."
"Are you kidding? I've still got plenty left to drink; you emptied your bottle, so what's the point?"
"Haha, look at Xiaolin—so lame! She's the only one who can't spray; it all just runs down her body…"
The Girls giggled and teased one another about their spraying skills.
Customers who'd been counting down to the new year were suddenly drenched by the unexpected shower.
They froze in stunned silence.
Yuan Zong had told the staff to keep the crowd back, but these women packed too much firepower.
Some of them sent arcs of champagne several meters straight.
"What the hell? Who did that? I'm soaked! If I find the bastard, I'm starting a fight!"
"Bro, that whole section's courtesy of Young Master Jiang and Company—and it's ace of spades. Have fun with that fight."
"Never tasted the stuff in decades; now I get to lick a few drops. Sweet deal."
The guy who'd threatened to throw punches realized the spray came from the VIP booths and laughed it off.
"Forget it, forget it—I'm not chickening out, I just prefer peace, you know?"
…As the countdown hit zero, the club's atmosphere exploded.
The manic DJ dropped the beat again.
Bodies on the dance floor bounced in unison.
Some danced wildly, releasing every last ounce of joy.
Others sat in corners, eyes glistening, moved—or broken—by the turn of the year.
Still others sipped their drinks while tears rolled down their cheeks.
The dancers in heavy makeup and risqué costumes were equally stirred—some cheering, others weeping.
In the small hours of a new year, every shade of life showed itself in this glittering haze.
Watching it all, Jiang Cheng lifted the ace of spades magnum from his table and toasted the air.
He tilted his head and drained the glass in one.
It was already 2018; the past six months had been crammed with upheaval.
Wherever he went now, he was the center of attention.
Fawning smiles followed him like shadows.
High-caliber women orbited him in growing numbers.
Half a year earlier, any of this would have been a distant fantasy.
Life's swings are brutal.
Jiang Cheng never told himself money didn't matter.
He knew its power and never pretended to scorn it.
When you're broke, no one wastes a glance on you.
After the climax, Jiang Cheng felt a sudden emptiness.
Seeing Wang Congcong and the others still in high spirits, he turned to Jiang Churan.
"It's late—shall I take you home?"
She frowned, unsure whether the offer was innocent or carried a hidden meaning.
She flicked a glance at Shen Shuang.
"The dorm gate's shut; I'll stay at Sister Shuang's off-campus apartment tonight."
Shen Shuang sat quietly, waiting for Jiang Cheng's reaction.
He had no special designs on Jiang Churan.
Their banter had nudged her favorability up by five points, but it still stood at only sixty.
Sixty favorability—what did that amount to?
Nowhere near enough.
He wasn't Xu Zhi; he wouldn't force himself on a woman at sixty points.
Cold, unwilling compliance held zero appeal for him.
He'd rather pay for a professional Girl who knew how to make a client smile.
Besides, Xu Zhi had just proved that flashing cash and status wouldn't win Jiang Churan over.
Any other woman, learning he was the heir to Company, would probably show up freshly showered and eager.
None would dream of refusing.
Jiang Cheng said, "Then I'll see both of you back. Girls shouldn't stay in a bar too late—let's go."
Without another look, he greeted Zheng Zhigang, exchanged a few words with Wang Congcong and He Youjun, then stood and signaled the two women to leave.
They hadn't expected him to escort them home without so much as a hint.
As Jiang Cheng rose to leave, Wang Congcong and the others also called it a night.
Each man wrapped an arm around the Girl he'd chosen and followed Jiang Cheng out.
The remaining women watched Jiang Churan and Shen Shuang depart with open envy.
Yuan Zong waved the staff over, and under their escort the group swept out of the club.
"Damn, those booth princes—each with two Girls. Lucky bastards."
"What's to envy? They earn every drop of that with blood and sweat."
"What planet are you on? I envy Young Master Jiang, not the Girls, okay?"