Chapter 186: Mr. Wu, Do You Have Time Tonight?

Chapter 186: Mr. Wu, Do You Have Time Tonight?

Su Qingying calling at this hour was neither coincidence nor accident.

It was simply dinnertime.

Wu Chen answered.

“Hello, Qingying.”

“Hubby, are you with Miss Li?”

“No. I’m busy.”

“Hubby, I can’t come see you today either. You won’t be angry with me, will you?”

Hearing him answer with “Qingying,” Wu Yurong realized who it was.

She had been walking over anyway, so she quickened her steps a little and stopped beside the coffee table. The wine had made her a good deal bolder, though not so rude as to actually lean in and eavesdrop.

The office was quiet.

Wu Chen sat in an armchair on one side. Wu Yurong stood by the coffee table, set her handbag down on it without thinking, then turned and sat directly on the edge of the table, her body angled as she watched him talk.

That put her less than a meter from his phone in a straight line.

She could faintly make out the girl’s voice on the other end.

“Why would I be angry?” Wu Chen said into the phone, smiling. “See to your own business. I have things to do myself.”

“Mm… my dad is back. I have to have dinner with some of the elders tonight…” Even though he had said it was fine, Su Qingying still felt the need to explain.

“Just focus on what you have to do.” Wu Chen smiled. “Don’t work yourself up. It’s fine.”

“My hubby is the best. Mwah!” She actually kissed the phone.

“Good girl.” Wu Chen smiled.

“Then I’ll leave it there for now, Hubby. I’ll call you again later.”

“All right.”

He ended the call, smiling, and had only just put the phone away—before he could even raise his head—when Wu Yurong’s voice came from beside him.

“Su Qingying?”

Wu Chen looked up at her.

In her business skirt suit, Wu Yurong sat sideways on the coffee table with her head turned toward him. At that distance, from that angle, there was something provocatively improper in the pose.

Sober, Wu Yurong would never have sat sideways on a coffee table.

“Yes.” Wu Chen nodded.

“She called you… Hubby?” she asked.

“She did. What’s wrong with that?” Wu Chen smiled.

“She seems to care about you a great deal. She’s very anxious about what you think…” Wu Yurong asked it with a faint frown and a smile.

“Is that strange?” Wu Chen returned.

Wu Yurong thought a moment and said nothing more.

She stood. “Please wait a moment, Mr. Wu. I’m going to change.”

With that she walked toward the private lounge attached to the office.

Wu Chen had been inside that lounge during the loop.

It was far larger than the one off Li Ruobing’s office. It had been opened up in a later renovation, large enough to count as a proper bedroom, and it held a great many wardrobes—and a great many women’s clothes.

Wu Yurong cared enormously about her image.

Her standards for what she wore ran far above those of most women.

Different occasions meant different clothes.

At work she invariably wore something relatively formal. Going out to dinner, she would change into a long dress that emphasized her femininity. For a banquet she would dress more lavishly still.

Wu Yurong went into the lounge to change.

And for that change…

Wu Chen waited a full half hour.

She did not need to redo her makeup. Plainly she had simply spent too long choosing.

Wu Chen waited without impatience, and did not sit idle. He took out his phone again and chatted with someone online.

It was nearly five-thirty in the afternoon.

At last.

Wu Yurong came out of the lounge.

She had changed into a short burgundy qipao dress.

Unlike a classical qipao, hers was a modernized cut. The hem ended an inch above her knees, and the side slit was judged to exactly the right height. It followed her figure closely, presenting the most beautiful lines of her body.

There was no question that Wu Yurong’s qipao had been tailored to her measurements.

A qipao was never an easy garment for an ordinary woman to carry. Beautiful as it was, on most women walking down the street it could easily look conspicuous, somehow out of place.

On Wu Yurong it drew out her elegance to perfection.

With it she wore slender heels, black soles and red uppers.

Taken whole, she now held both the singular charm of a mysterious Eastern woman and, beneath the elegance, an unmistakable allure.

She had even changed handbags, switching to a clutch to suit the outfit.

She wore, too, a wide, glittering white diamond bracelet whose color nearly blended into her skin.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Wu.” Wu Yurong came toward the sofa with a soft, sweet smile.

She seemed much more sober now. The drunkenness had faded noticeably from her face, and her cheeks were not as flushed.

Wu Chen knew that because Wu Yurong’s tolerance was poor and her social calendar demanding, she always carried hangover medicine in her bag.

She had probably taken some in the lounge.

In truth its effect went only so far.

But she had drunk only one bottle of red wine, so it could still help a fair amount. If she kept drinking—if she drank much more—no medicine could hold back that much alcohol.

“Ready to go?” Wu Chen asked, rising from the sofa.

“After you, Mr. Wu.” She gestured lightly to him and started for the door herself.

In the corridor outside, her female bodyguard Chu Yan sat on a bench not far off, while two male bodyguards paced.

The office door opened suddenly.

Wu Yurong and Wu Chen stepped out.

The two men shed their loose, idling manner at once. Chu Yan stood as well and looked to Wu Yurong.

“Bai Jing,” Wu Yurong said to her the moment she was out.

Then she turned to Wu Chen with a smile. “Do you like French food, Mr. Wu?”

She had already decided where they were going before asking him.

Bai Jing was the name of one of Donghai’s finest French restaurants. Its owner was Chinese, but the head-chef team had been recruited from top restaurants in France.

It had an upscale, stylish air—and prices beyond what most of its would-be clientele could afford.

“Anything is fine,” Wu Chen said.

They walked toward the elevator with the bodyguards following. Chu Yan let herself fall a few steps behind, pressed a finger to her earpiece, and spoke quietly.

Wu Yurong had said only the two words Bai Jing, but that was enough: notify downstairs to bring the car around, and call Bai Jing to reserve a private room.

Downstairs, into the car.

Wu Chen naturally did not drive his own Lamborghini. He got into Wu Yurong’s Bentley Mulsanne and sat with her in the back.

It was worth noting that Wu Yurong’s driver was also a woman, and doubled as a bodyguard.

They set off.

A little over twenty minutes later they arrived at Bai Jing, on Wutong Avenue.

A private room had already been reserved on the third floor.

Upstairs, seated, both of them ordered with easy familiarity. While the food was coming they opened a bottle of red wine and talked over it.

The meal ran extraordinarily long.

They kept to the full rhythm of a French dinner: cold appetizers, then soup, then the main course, and dessert after that…

What they ate and how they ate it hardly mattered.

The drinking and the talking were the point.

And over dinner the Ding family was not the main subject.

They simply talked, with no particular center to it.

Wu Yurong asked what Li Ruobing was like in private. She asked about Wu Chen’s family, about his relationships with his parents and his younger sister.

They talked about music as well.

Wu Chen could tell that she was working to understand him comprehensively.

All of it fell within his expectations.

Before either of them noticed, it was past nine at night.

Clack.

A very soft sound, as though something had dropped to the floor.

It sounded like a high heel.

“Mr. Wu, do you have time tonight?” Wu Yurong’s face was flushed with wine and full of smiles.

As she asked, Wu Chen felt something brush his leg beneath the table.

It seemed to be…

Wu Yurong’s foot, reaching across under the table.

“Would you like to come to my place for some more tea?” she asked, her voice soft and inviting.