[Gold Powder GL] True Elegance Comes with Knowledge - Chapter 32

Noticing the motion, Leng Qingqiu upstairs couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle.

Seeing this, Yan Hui finally breathed a sigh of relief.

She had made her stance clear—hopefully, she hadn’t agitated Qingqiu any further.

But then, she suddenly realized—wait a minute. Why was she acting like a cheating husband who’d just been caught red-handed?! This was clearly just normal socializing. She had nothing to hide, yet dodging like that only made her look suspicious.

The realization that Qingqiu had somehow led her into such a ridiculous trap made Yan Hui raise her hand to her forehead in frustration, suppressing the urge to sigh aloud.

“Miss Jin?” Bai Xiuzhu looked at her, puzzled by her series of odd movements.

Only then did Yan Hui remembers someone was still sitting beside her. She quickly dropped her hand and forced a polite smile. “Sorry, I suddenly felt a little unwell.”

“Oh, I see. Do you want to go rest somewhere?” Xiuzhu asked with genuine concern.

Faced with such unmerited kindness, Yan Hui felt even more guilty. She took a long sip from her wine glass, masking her discomfort. “No need, it’s nothing serious. I’ll be fine after sitting here for a bit.”

“If you say so,” Xiuzhu said with a smile, picking up on her subtle cue. She stood up, then glanced down and noticed the glass in Yan Hui’s hand. “If you’re not feeling well, maybe cut back on the alcohol.”

Huh?

Yan Hui looked down—sure enough, at some point she’d picked up her wine glass again.

Not that she minded. The wine was aged and smooth, with little tannic bitterness and a hint of sweetness that gave it a pleasant depth beyond fruit juice. She wasn’t truly unwell anyway, so a little indulgence didn’t hurt.

So, she remained where she was, sipping slowly until she’d emptied her glass.

When she looked up again, Qingqiu had already left her seat. Yan Hui leaned back in the sofa and exhaled deeply.

One glass wouldn’t get her drunk, but she definitely felt more at ease. She stayed there for a while longer until a servant came over to inform her that the guests had all arrived. She set down her empty glass and went upstairs.

On the second floor was a Western-style long dining table, adorned with a centerpiece of fresh flowers and neatly arranged cutlery on both sides. Most guests were already seated, with only a few empty seats remaining—one of them, of course, was beside Qingqiu.

Yan Hui began walking over, but was intercepted by Cao San, who wanted to introduce her to some people.

In the past, neither Yan Hui nor the original body’s owner had much idea about the family’s business dealings in Beijing or who their connections were. All she knew was that her eldest brother had a strong military background and wielded significant influence in the capital.

Now that Cao San was introducing her around, it clearly meant he saw her as someone capable of handling affairs.

Yan Hui had no choice but to sit down and exchange greetings, stealing a glance at Qingqiu amidst the pleasantries. Seeing Qingqiu still watching her, she took two more glasses of wine offered in toasts—fortifying herself.

And before she knew it, she’d had a bit too much.

When the ball began and guests started heading off to dance, Yan Hui stayed put, a little dizzy.

Before long, Qingqiu approached her, placing a glass of sobering soup in front of her. “I could see you downing glass after glass from all the way over there. Drowning your sorrows?”

“What sorrows would I have?” Yan Hui retorted stubbornly.

“Good, then.” Qingqiu watched her finish the soup, then extended her hand. “Want to dance?”

Yan Hui was momentarily dazed.

The first time Qingqiu danced at a Jin family banquet, it was with her. Back then, Qingqiu had been so awkward and unsure, relying entirely on Yan Hui to guide her. Who would’ve thought that now the roles would be reversed, with Yan Hui trapped, neither advancing nor retreating?

“No,” she said, seizing the moral high ground. “Go find someone else.”

“Who else would I find?” Qingqiu rested one hand on the back of her chair and smiled. “If you’re not dancing, neither am I.”

That made Yan Hui’s heart skip again.

Qingqiu sat beside her, picked up a small cake, and began eating it delicately with a spoon. Being from the south, she had a notable sweet tooth, savoring each bite like it was a delight.

Bored and restless, Yan Hui’s eyes drifted over to her movements—watching as Qingqiu scooped up half a spoonful, placed it in her mouth, pressed her lips gently together, then ran her tongue lightly over the spoon to catch the last trace of cream…

Watching this, Yan Hui suddenly felt… thirsty.

As if sensing her gaze, Qingqiu suddenly looked up and smiled. “Do you want a bite too?”

Yan Hui jerked her eyes away like she’d been scalded, her heart pounding wildly.

Something’s not right with me today, she thought, pushing up from the table. “It’s stuffy in here. I’m going to get some fresh air.”

Since most guests were dancing downstairs, Yan Hui went to the second-floor balcony. It was secluded, out of view from the dance floor, and blissfully empty. She flung the windows open, letting the chill night breeze rush in, whipping the curtains and clearing her foggy mind.

She exhaled heavily, but her tangled thoughts remained a knotted mess.

Just then, she heard footsteps approaching.

In a flash of panic—she didn’t even know why—she instinctively ducked behind one of the billowing curtains to hide.

Almost immediately, she regretted it. Her brain was clearly fried tonight. Even if it was Qingqiu, why was she hiding?

But since she was already hidden, stepping out now would be even more awkward.

She waited a moment. No sound. Probably just another guest coming for air. She let herself relax—

And then she heard it.

Soft, breathy gasps—male and female. The rustle of clothing. The unmistakable wet, suggestive sounds of intimacy.

What the—

Yan Hui’s eyes nearly popped out of her head.

She’d read about this sort of thing in Western novels—characters sneaking off during parties to tryst behind curtains or in empty rooms—but never in her life did she expect to actually witness it.

And yet, here she was.

Desperate not to be discovered, she held her breath and stayed perfectly still, counting each torturous second and praying they’d finish quickly and leave.

Thankfully, the Wu family’s curtains were heavy and elaborate—she was well concealed. But the enclosed space was suffocating. The longer she stayed, the hotter it felt. Her body began to overheat, a thin sheen of sweat forming on her skin. Her breathing grew damp and shallow.

Her mind wandered—and to her horror, the image of Qingqiu licking the spoon resurfaced, vivid and unshakable.

She wanted to slap herself. Hard. But all she could do was remain frozen, back against the wall, her body burning up in the confined space.

Finally, finally, the rustling outside resumed—clothes being straightened, footsteps retreating.

Thank God they didn’t linger to whisper sweet nothings, or she might’ve actually lost it.

The moment they were gone, Yan Hui bolted from behind the curtain, determined to leave this godforsaken place—

Only to walk straight into Leng Qingqiu.

“I thought you got lost,” Qingqiu said with a smile. “I was just coming to look for you.” Then she paused, noticing Yan Hui’s disheveled state. “Are you alright? You look flushed—did you catch a chill standing in the wind? You’re sweating so much…”

She reached out to feel Yan Hui’s forehead.

The cool touch jolted her back to reality. Yan Hui quickly avoided the gesture and cleared her throat. “I’m fine.”

She strode over to the table, poured herself another glass of wine, and downed it in one go.

Qingqiu followed, watching her closely.

At that short distance, Yan Hui caught a whiff of something—some scent on Qingqiu’s body. It wasn’t something she’d smelled before. Not makeup, not incense—something subtler, more pleasant.

She took a deeper breath instinctively—then immediately regretted it.

God help me.

She rubbed her face hard, wishing she’d just stayed home today. Everything about tonight was just… wrong.