It’s About You (GL High H) - Chapter 2

Wanqi Lang leaned over the bar counter and drew close to Shen Zhiwei’s ear. The faint scent of her perfume mingled with the bar’s atmosphere and brushed against Shen Zhiwei’s earlobe.

Wanqi Lang lowered her voice, laced with the excitement of someone eager for gossip: “Hey, Zhiwei, look at that table over there.” She nodded toward the booth where Jiang Nian and the others sat. “They just arrived. See? That guy—tsk, the way he’s looking at her, practically glued to the poor girl. I bet his mind is wandering to all sorts of crooked places.”

Shen Zhiwei heard her, lifted her glass, and took an elegant sip of water before she turned her gaze toward them unhurriedly.

In the booth, the dim lighting outlined the three figures. Shen Zhiwei did not recognize Zhou Yang, nor had she seen that man before, but Jiang Nian… Shen Zhiwei’s gaze lingered on her face, and she lost her composure in an instant.

Jiang Nian seemed somewhat uneasy at that moment, leaning back slightly against the sofa with a forced smile on her face as she tried to maintain a bit of distance from him, but clearly, the man was not getting the hint.

Shen Zhiwei’s fingertips tightened around her glass, and her gaze never shifted away again; beads of condensation slid down the side of the glass along her finger.

Wanqi Lang pulled her eyes away, only to notice that Shen Zhiwei had turned into an ice block without warning. That look… Wanqi Lang’s heart skipped a beat. What was wrong with Shen Zhiwei? She had just gossiped casually—how could the reaction be this intense?

Wanqi Lang reached up and rubbed her smooth chin, suddenly perking up. She propped her elbows on the bar counter and eyed Shen Zhiwei’s seemingly calm profile, which hid turbulent undercurrents, with keen interest; the corners of her mouth curved into a gossipy arc. “Still with us?” She drew out the last word deliberately, her eyes brimming with “I’ve caught you,” “Something’s off,” and “Spill it.”

Just then, something new happened at the booth. Zhou Yang took a sip of her drink, said something to Jiang Nian and the man, then stood and hurried toward the restroom.

That left only Jiang Nian and the man at the table.

The reduced space seemed to embolden the man and give him a false sense of confidence. He twisted his upper body halfway toward her, leaning in even closer, his smile growing more eager as his mouth ran nonstop.

Jiang Nian’s body tensed, her smile turned rigid, and she shifted back unobtrusively again, her eyes darting away.

Clink!

A sound that was not too loud but sharply clear rang out from the bar counter.

Shen Zhiwei slammed her glass down hard on the bar, drawing even the nearby bartender’s instinctive glance. The water inside sloshed violently, the lemon slice spinning pitifully.

“Hey! My crystal glass!” Wanqi Lang cried out in distress, reaching to rescue it—this was one of her bar’s favorites; she did not let just anyone use it!

But she did not finish her sentence.

Shen Zhiwei had already shot to her feet. She moved with decisive steps, her gaze like two ice spikes piercing toward the nearby booth, chilling the air she passed through by several degrees.

“Holy sh1t.” Wanqi Lang let out another exclamation. The scene before her eyes was a thousand times more thrilling than any crystal glass; Shen Zhiwei’s murderous aura screamed “hero to the rescue,” and missing even a second would be a lifelong regret.

Without another word, she tossed the glass into the nearby sink full of soapy water for dirty cups, wiped her hands haphazardly, tucked her hair behind her ears, afraid to miss a single detail.

Shen Zhiwei strode over with an overpowering presence, quieting the surroundings considerably. Wanqi Lang stood at the bar, ears perked, straining to listen. The man was saying something about “outgoing… intellectual…”—she could not catch the rest, delivered in a tone of contrived showing off and self-satisfied judgment that made her brows furrow.

“I don’t know what Miss Jiang usually likes…”

The man’s words were not finished when Shen Zhiwei’s voice, clear and cold as an icy spring, rang out distinctly, instantly drowning all background noise:

“She likes quiet.”

Wanqi Lang heard it and silently pumped her fist in the back, mouthing, “Weiwei, so cool! Weiwei, you’re awesome!”

The man jolted at the sudden voice, his hand shaking as he looked up at Shen Zhiwei. He was first startled by her appearance and aura, then a surge of embarrassed anger rose: “Who the hell are you? What’s it to you?”

Shen Zhiwei looked at him calmly, then her gaze fell on Jiang Nian’s face, which had paled slightly from anger and fright. She stepped forward, positioning her body slightly to shield Jiang Nian from the man, blocking his harassing gaze and movements.

“I’m her friend.”

The man seized on it like a lifeline, sneering: “Friend? Friends get to butt in like this? Mind your own business!”

Relying on his rough voice, he raised his volume, trying to regain the upper hand in momentum, while attempting to reach around Shen Zhiwei to grab at Jiang Nian.

Shen Zhiwei’s brows did not even twitch. Before the man’s hand could extend, she first wrapped an arm around Jiang Nian. Without the slightest hesitation, she uttered three words:

“Girlfriend.”

Wanqi Lang’s almond-shaped eyes widened instantly, full of shock as she stared fixedly at Shen Zhiwei’s back; her red lips parted soundlessly into an “O”—Shen Zhiwei! You iron tree! What did you just say?!

The eavesdroppers around drew in sharp breaths in unison. Wanqi Lang’s hand, pretending to mix a drink, shook, sending ice cubes clattering out. Shen Zhiwei rarely even had a flirtatious fly around her; this millennia-old iron tree that never bloomed had not only secretly flowered but done so with earth-shattering drama—how had she only learned of it now!?

The man looked as if lightning had struck him; his outstretched hand froze midair, his smug face congealing into incredulous shock and awkwardness: “G-Girlfriend?” He glanced at Shen Zhiwei’s face, cold enough to freeze, then at Jiang Nian, equally stunned behind her.

Shen Zhiwei did not even bother looking at him again, her gaze fixed only on the rigid Jiang Nian, her tone still calmly unruffled yet carrying an absolute aura of staking claim:

“Of course my girlfriend’s matters concern me. Now, please leave immediately—don’t make me do it myself.”

The man’s face flushed pig-liver red; her presence was too strong, too cold, and that line “don’t make me do it myself” brimmed with intimidation. Even if he was dense, he knew he had kicked an iron plate—and a very hard one at that.

His lips quivered twice, but he could not squeeze out a word. He snatched up his jacket from the sofa and bolted out the bar door like a ghost was chasing him, head down in utter humiliation without looking back.

Shen Zhiwei turned slowly, her gaze falling on Jiang Nian’s flushed face. Her expression held some concern as she looked at her, as if confirming she was all right.

Wanqi Lang could not hold back any longer.

She set down her glass, strode over in her high heels with a clatter-clatter-clatter, her face sporting an unabashed gossipy grin.

She reached Shen Zhiwei’s side and deliberately bumped her shoulder lightly, drawing out her tone, her voice full of teasing and disbelief: “Girlfriend?” Her seductive eyes darted back and forth between the petrified Jiang Nian and the icy Shen Zhiwei, as if appraising the world’s ninth wonder; she leaned against the booth partition. “Shen Zhiwei, hearing that from you is rarer than me claiming to be Plato. What an eye-opener today!”

She turned to Jiang Nian, who looked ready to bury herself in the table. “Little Nian, did you put a spell on her? Quick, teach your big sis!”

“Sister Lang!” Jiang Nian was both embarrassed and mortified, her voice muffled as it came from above the tabletop. “She… she was just helping.”

“Helping?” Wanqi Lang exaggeratedly arched a brow, pointing at Shen Zhiwei, then at Jiang Nian. “Look at her reaction—does that seem like just helping?”

She leaned in close to Shen Zhiwei deliberately, lowering her voice but ensuring Jiang Nian could hear: “Hey, I mean, the scale of your help… isn’t it a bit too much? Daring to say girlfriend—you’re not afraid our little Nian will take it seriously?”

Shen Zhiwei’s brows furrowed slightly, and for once, she did not freeze Wanqi Lang with an icy glare. She took a deep breath, as if organizing her words, and turned her gaze back to Jiang Nian.

“The situation called for that identity to be most effective.” She paused, weighing her phrasing. “It solves the problem fastest.”

Jiang Nian lifted her head and looked at Shen Zhiwei; this time, her eyes held grievance and confusion: “Then… then you didn’t have to say girlfriend…”

Shen Zhiwei watched Jiang Nian’s expression, her lips parting slightly as the words “it’s not a strategy” nearly escaped.

Just then—

“Nian, I’m back. Hey, where’d Zhang Wei go?” Zhou Yang’s voice came from the restroom hallway; she hurried back to the booth and saw Zhang Wei was gone.

“Sister Lang, oh! And this beauty is…” Zhou Yang looked at Shen Zhiwei, momentarily dazed.

Shen Zhiwei saw Zhou Yang return and seized it as the perfect exit.

“The person harassing you has been dealt with. You’re her friend?”

She indicated Jiang Nian.

“Yes, yes, yes! I’m her bestie; I’m Zhou Yang!” Zhou Yang nodded quickly, then turned to Jiang Nian with concern. “He just harassed you! Nian, that jerk didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

“I’m fine.” Jiang Nian looked at Zhou Yang and relaxed a little.

“Mm.” Shen Zhiwei acknowledged, then turned to Wanqi Lang with a brief instruction: “I’m leaving.”

“Hey? Already?” Wanqi Lang raised her voice deliberately, her eyes flicking between Shen Zhiwei and Jiang Nian. “Not saying goodbye to your little girlfriend?”

She emphasized those three words on purpose.

Shen Zhiwei halted midstep and shot Wanqi Lang a cold sidelong glance.

“You all chat.”

With that, she turned and swiftly exited through the door without lingering.

“Wow…” Zhou Yang watched Shen Zhiwei’s figure vanish through the entrance, then whipped around immediately: “Nian! Who was that just now? So cool! Did she chase off Zhang Wei? What’d she say to you at the end? What was Sister Lang saying about girlfriend? Spill, spill!”

Zhou Yang bombarded her with questions, shaking Jiang Nian until she felt dizzy; she shot Wanqi Lang a pleading look.

Wanqi Lang sauntered over, abandoning her drinks and her post; she grinned and placed one hand on each girl’s shoulder, pressing Zhou Yang back into the booth, then snapped her fingers: “Ah Ben, two ‘Calm the Nerves’ over here.”

She pulled up a high stool and sat down herself, propping her chin, her seductive eyes curving as she regarded the flustered Jiang Nian:

“Come on, little Yangyang, sit nice. Big sis will tell you all about the heart-pounding, twisty-turny, iron-tree-blooming… romance—er, no, hero-rescue-beauty that our Nian went through tonight.”

Jiang Nian let out a wail and covered her face: “Sister Lang!”

Zhou Yang slapped the table in excitement: “Tell us, tell us!”