Chapter 8: So Soon to Lose Your Composure?

Zhao Baitong had only taken two steps out of the changing room when she ran straight into the store manager, a jolt that broke her out in a cold sweat.

"Ms. Zhao, Ms. Meng has finished changing into her wedding dress and is waiting for you."

Zhao Baitong, heart drumming like thunder against her ribs and the flush still lingering on her cheeks, wondered if the manager had heard the commotion from inside the dressing room.

"Ms. Zhao, are you alright?" the manager asked, noticing her unusual expression.

"I'm fine," Zhao Baitong replied, forcing a composed response.

Meng Tang stood adorned in a white, sequined wedding gown, her long train held by two store assistants, looking elegant and regal. She smiled and beckoned to Zhao Baitong, "Baitong, come over here. I want to introduce you to a friend."

Zhao Baitong felt stiff. As she approached, she noticed a young man around her own age beside Meng Tang, his gaze fixed squarely on her, lingering insolently over her chest and legs.

"You’ve met before—yesterday at the wedding house. This is Jing Pei, my cousin."

Zhao Baitong hadn't paid much attention to him yesterday. Now, looking up, she saw he wore a buzz cut, a silver earring, and trendy attire.

Jing Pei greeted her with a grin, "Clothes make the man, or in this case, the woman. Ms. Zhao, in the gown my cousin designed, you look truly extraordinary!"

As Jing Pei extended his hand, Zhao Baitong noticed the tattoo on his arm: a black mamba coiled around his entire right forearm, fierce and menacing. She frowned; her first impression of him was poor. Sensing Fang Zhixu’s gaze behind her, she reached out and gave his hand a polite, brief touch. "Just Zhao Baitong is fine."

"Which 'Bai' and which 'Tong'?" Jing Pei asked, his manner enthusiastic.

"'Bai' as in cypress tree, and 'Tong' with the water radical."

"Three drops of water—truly, women are made of water..."

"Put a lid on your drooling. Three drops of water is 'Miao,' not the water radical; look at your lack of education. Let me tell you, our Baitong doesn't go for men as blunt and crude as you. She likes them masculine, domineering, and aloof. Isn't that right, Baitong?"

It wasn't just Zhao Baitong’s imagination; Meng Tang was probing her again. Domineering and aloof? Fang Zhixu?

Meng Tang’s sharp gaze shifted past Zhao Baitong, suddenly softening as it landed on Fang Zhixu. "Zhixu, what took you so long?"

Zhao Baitong’s palms were slick with sweat. Her hearing was sharp, but she didn't turn around.

"I had a work call," Fang Zhixu replied with calm composure.

He walked past Zhao Baitong, impeccably dressed. The same hand that had just touched her now rested on Meng Tang's shoulder. "The dress looks good; it suits you."

Meng Tang hooked her arms around his neck, her eyes like seductive hooks, as she said in front of everyone, "You kept me waiting too long. I’ll have to punish you tonight."

A fiancé and fiancée talking of punishments at night—the nearby store assistants exchanged glances, conjuring their own images and nearly laughing out loud.

"Sister-in-law, the bridesmaid dress fits well enough. If there's nothing else, I’ll be heading off." Zhao Baitong felt shattered, barely maintaining her composure. She felt as though she had just finished an grueling battle and was utterly exhausted.

"Xiao Pei, see Baitong out."

Zhao Baitong tried to decline, "No need to trouble yourself, I’ll call a taxi."

Jing Pei had already stood up, twirling his car keys. "You’re my cousin’s guest, which makes you mine. Besides, my car is parked right outside. It’s no trouble at all."

Zhao Baitong wanted to refuse again, but Meng Tang looked disappointed, clutching Fang Zhixu’s hand. "Zhixu, talk to Baitong. She’s too introverted and needs to meet more people. Xiao Pei means well."

Unable to bear Meng Tang’s disappointment, Fang Zhixu turned his gaze to Zhao Baitong. "You claim you want to be able to let go and move on, so what now? Is a simple ride from Xiao Pei too much for you to handle?"

Zhao Baitong’s earlobes turned red; she knew exactly what he was implying.

Fang Zhixu had just forced her to choose between him and another man. She knew this game had only just begun, and she knew he was trying to provoke her—either to humiliate her or force her to show weakness. But Zhao Baitong refused to be manipulated by him any longer. She just wanted to be rid of him.

"Fine," Zhao Baitong agreed. "I'll take Jing Pei's car."