Chapter Thirty-Two: You’re Overthinking It—I Just Want to Learn How to Cook

Shangguan Renran hadn’t originally planned to stay, but recalling what Ye Xin had found out about Shangguan Miaomiao, Bai Xi, and the others, she changed her mind. She wanted to see what they were up to.

“Miss? Should we…?” Ye Xin glanced at her, noticing that most people had already gone upstairs.

“Is something wrong, Renran? Are you all heading up?” Seeing Ye Xin and the others waiting for Shangguan Renran, she wanted to join them as well.

“I’ll wait a bit before going up. What about you? Do you need to head back early?”

“No, since you’re not leaving, let’s go up together.”

Ouyang Muya and the others had no objections, and Zhen Mi had always intended to stay behind. As an entertainer, she needed to be among the last to leave—otherwise, people would accuse her of putting on airs. That was why, after two or three years in the entertainment industry, she had never been embroiled in any scandals or rumors.

Huangpu Shenqing remained silent. When he saw Shangguan Renran and her group heading to the second floor, he stood up as well.

“Huh? Second Brother, you’re not heading home?” At events like this, their second brother usually just made a brief appearance. Now he was—

“Huangpu?” Gong Yi suspected he might stay.

Sure enough, Huangpu Shenqing ignored the two of them and went upstairs alone—just like that, he left. Did they even matter to him at all?

“Third Brother, look at him. What kind of behavior is that?” For a woman, abandoning his brothers.

“Enough. Hurry up and catch up, will you? Stop making drama for yourself. Don’t we know what Huangpu Shenqing is like? Always so reserved.”

—

Second Floor Banquet Hall

Here, the tables were laden with pastries, brownies, macarons, soufflés, cake rolls, jam tarts, mousse, tiramisu, and more. The drinks included champagne, tequila, vodka, rum, as well as red and white wines. The wine rack towered several stories high, and waiters poured from above, sending the party into a lively crescendo.

Everyone chatted and laughed over drinks, sharing recent anecdotes—a convivial atmosphere. Of course, at such soirees, there was always business to be conducted, gossip whispered behind fans, and social climbing.

—

“Ye Xin, keep an eye on their movements,” Shangguan Renran said, taking a glass of red wine before settling into a seat.

“Yes,” Ye Xin replied, staying close enough to observe but not so near as to attract attention.

“Renran, is something wrong?” Ouyang Muya sat beside her, with Xia Wanqing on the other side.

“It’s nothing, just rats desperate when cornered.” Shangguan Renran sipped her wine.

The others also ordered drinks. Each picked something different, so none noticed the flash of cold light in the attendant’s eyes.

“Renran, you promised to get me a better painting, remember? If not, when the old man at home finds out I sold his painting, I’ll be dead!”

“Of course, I’ll get you one,” Shangguan Renran assured her.

“Renran, do you have a painting by Master AiCo?” Ouyang Muya asked.

“No,” she replied, though she hadn’t painted it yet. Indeed, AiCo was her pen name.

All those years in Country Y had given her ample time to paint, so she’d set up a studio. When inspiration struck, she’d create something and send it to her manager, rarely handling the studio’s affairs herself.

She’d paint something for Wanqing in a few days.

“Then do you have a special connection?” Ouyang Muya knew Renran wouldn’t make promises she couldn’t keep.

“Don’t worry, Muya. I’ll definitely get Wanqing a better painting.”

“Oh, Renran, you really are the best!” Xia Wanqing was delighted. There was truly nothing Renran couldn’t do.

Zhen Mi watched the three of them chatting happily, feeling a pang of envy. In the entertainment world, there were no real friends—if no one stabbed you in the back, you were lucky.

Ye Zuo sat on the other side, watching them—more precisely, watching her—while quietly drinking.

Across the hall, Huangpu Shenqing sat with a perfect vantage point over their group. He drank alone, every movement elegant and alluring, exuding an air that warned others to keep their distance.

Ouyang Mufeng, holding his wine, trotted over.

“Second Brother, I’m here to keep you company, don’t be sad.”

Gong Yi couldn’t stand his antics—it was all just for show.

“I heard you called Mo Shi and the others back. Did something happen?”

—

Gong Yi sat on the opposite side, questioning Huangpu Shenqing.

“No, I just want them in the company.” He simply had no one to manage affairs.

If he wasn’t at the office, Mo Yi couldn’t handle things alone.

“Did something happen at the company?” Mo Shi and Mo Jiu had always managed overseas business.

Huangpu Shenqing still had many private holdings abroad, with interests in Country Y, M, G, and more. Most of his assets were in Country G, where the military general system prevailed. Except for the royal family, generals held all military authority.

“No, I just need to leave the company for a few days,” Huangpu Shenqing replied, sipping his wine—he had matters far more important to attend to.

“Is there trouble with overseas shipments?” Gong Yi was concerned; every country had its own rules, and Huangpu Shenqing’s underground dealings in Country G were rife with danger. Guns and ammunition were just part of daily life for them.

“If there’s trouble, I can go myself.” After all, he’d been sent all over by Huangpu Shenqing, and even their eldest brother had been roped in at times.

Still, the few of them had been through life and death together.

“No need. I just…” He hesitated, “I just want to learn something.”

“Second Brother, if something’s wrong, just say it. We’re brothers, after all.” Ouyang Mufeng had even risked his sister’s wrath for his brother’s sake, suffering plenty of beatings for it.

“You’re overthinking it. I just want to learn to cook,” he finally said. He wanted to master it, then cook for his little darling.

“What? Learn what? Cook? Why? For whom?” Ouyang Mufeng’s voice rose as he jumped up, causing everyone nearby to turn and look.

Gong Yi thought, Well, all that worrying for nothing.

“What does it have to do with you?” Huangpu Shenqing’s slender fingers wrapped around his glass, the other hand resting on the sofa behind him. His gaze, dark and fathomless, swept over them—untamed and haughty, as if he looked down on the world.

“Nothing, nothing at all.”

He might as well just keep drinking in silence!