Chapter Ten: This Man Shines

"What a figure—absolutely stunning." The moment Chen Fang laid eyes on Ji Mei, his heart, long tempered by countless romantic encounters, thudded violently in his chest.

Ji Mei’s features were merely above average, but her figure—her figure was simply unparalleled!

The restaurant was dimly lit, with soft, dusky light cascading over Ji Mei’s black evening gown. Her fair skin glowed with a faint flush, making one want to lean in for a taste. Her long black hair wasn’t pinned up but instead draped loosely over her chest, tumbling into the alluring curves below.

It was downright unfair.

Chen Fang quickly averted his gaze. No, he thought. If he kept looking, he might have to walk hunched over.

He hurriedly took the seat across from Ji Mei, forcing himself to meet her eyes and focus nowhere else.

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologized.

Such was life without a car, Chen Fang sighed inwardly. How could one hope to woo a woman without a car?

Ji Mei regained her composure, cheeks flushed crimson, and quickly lowered her head, taking a sip of iced water. “I just got here myself.”

She looked nothing like someone five years his senior; rather, she resembled a bashful girl just awakening to love.

“I should’ve changed my clothes,” Chen Fang said, glancing around.

This restaurant was filled with couples, all exquisitely dressed, men and women alike. In contrast, Chen Fang’s loose, casual clothes made him stand out like a sore thumb.

Of course, Chen Fang was thick-skinned—he didn’t care. In his years building a career on Earth, he’d seen every type of occasion and survived more than his share of awkward situations. He’d long since learned to ignore the stares of others.

But tonight, he wasn’t alone. For Ji Mei’s sake, he owed her a little consideration.

At his words, Ji Mei offered a gentle smile, dimples deepening. “It’s fine. It’s normal to dress casually for a meal out.”

Chen Fang looked at her elegant black dress and thought she didn’t look casual at all.

The food arrived, and they chatted as they ate. Within minutes, Chen Fang had Ji Mei laughing heartily. Only when the surrounding diners glanced over did Ji Mei hurriedly clap a hand over her mouth, looking irresistibly cute.

An hour later, the lighting grew even softer. Ji Mei’s cheeks were flushed, her hand swirling a glass of red wine—not from shyness now, but from a lovely hint of drunkenness.

Chen Fang didn’t dare meet her gaze any longer. When this woman was tipsy, her eyes seemed to flow like water, softening his resolve. Stare too long, and he might never find his way out.

Maybe he should just have her tonight.

The thought flickered in his mind. The chances were good—he could sense Ji Mei’s interest in him.

But in the next instant, he shook his head. No, that wasn’t the purpose of tonight.

He remembered the real reason he’d come out, and realized he should speak up before Ji Mei became fully drunk—otherwise, the evening would be wasted. “Director Ji, I’d like to ask you for a favor.”

Ji Mei pursed her lips, clearly displeased. Imagine, going on a date with her—a great beauty!—and having something else on his mind.

Still, she didn’t refuse. Instead, cradling her flushed cheeks in both hands, she gazed at him with soulful eyes. “Go on. I’ll listen and decide if I’ll help you afterward.”

“I want to find a studio to record a song,” he said. “Preferably for free.”

Professional studios rarely rented to outsiders, and even with connections, borrowing one cost a fortune. After all his deliberation, Ji Mei was the only person he could think of who might help. Of course, if it couldn’t be free, so be it—so long as he could use a studio.

Ji Mei considered, then broke into a sly smile, a little fox come to life—an utterly enticing vixen.

Chen Fang sipped his iced water, trying to douse the heat rising within him.

“How do you intend to repay me?” she teased.

“With my body,” he blurted out.

In an instant, Ji Mei’s blush deepened, as if she might melt and seep into his very bones.

She eyed him up and down, her tone teasing, “You’re too skinny. If you pay with your body, I’m at a loss.”

He’d only been joking, but in the next breath, Ji Mei licked her lips and murmured, “But you could make it up to me several times. Quantity makes up for quality.”

Chen Fang paused, a little stunned. She was far bolder when tipsy.

Of course, he didn’t take it to heart.

Suddenly, Ji Mei swayed in her seat. Seeing this, Chen Fang hurried over to steady her. Her body radiated heat, threatening his self-control.

She leaned into his arms, eyes fluttering, on the verge of sleep.

That figure—she was a crime waiting to happen. The very pinnacle of curvy beauty.

No good! If he kept holding her, he might really lose control.

At that, Chen Fang bent close to her ear and whispered, “We’ll talk about your reward another time. For now, let me give you something small.”

Ji Mei lifted her head; their breaths mingled, their faces mere inches apart. She was ready for a romantic kiss, but to her surprise, Chen Fang stood, called over a waiter, and after a brief exchange, headed to the white piano at the center of the restaurant.

In an instant, every eye in the place turned his way.

This restaurant had an unspoken rule: anyone who played the piano and won applause from all the diners could have their meal for free. But if they disturbed the guests, causing anyone to leave early, the pianist was responsible for everyone’s bill.

It was a high-end place—a meal here cost at least a thousand. No one wanted to embarrass themselves or pay extra, so hardly anyone ever tried. Over time, the white piano had become little more than decoration.

Chen Fang sat at the piano, recalling the melody in his mind. He glanced at Ji Mei in the corner, and spoke softly, “This song is for Miss Ji Mei. I hope she likes it.”

Ji Mei’s eyes sparkled with a smile as she watched him.

Chen Fang returned her look with a gentle smile.

The others didn’t know Chen Fang’s singing ability, but Ji Mei did. His vocal skills were solid—he only lacked a chance to shine on stage.

He drew a steadying breath.

His fingers began to dance lightly over the keys. Sweet, lively notes floated out.

By the banks of the Seine, in a left-bank café,
I savor your beauty with a cup in hand,
Your lipstick’s imprint on the rim,
A rose from the florist with the wrong name,
A confession balloon blows across the street,
And smiles fly above us…

As Chen Fang sang, his gaze never left Ji Mei’s, his lips curled in an intoxicating smile. The melody, so sweet and romantic, was a surefire weapon of seduction.

The song, “Confession Balloon,” was known for its romantic style, and Chen Fang was a master at charming women. He knew how to win over hearts of every age—a scoundrel, perhaps, but a talented one.

Back on Earth, there were even female celebrities who weren’t after his money, but were simply swept into his bed by his silver tongue.

He couldn’t help it—he was just that good.

After so many years drifting among flowers, his words rolled off his tongue as naturally as breathing.

Ji Mei’s eyes shone even brighter. Another new song!

“You little devil, how are you so talented?” she thought, her gaze smoldering.

She suddenly felt parched and downed her wine in one gulp, her flush deepening, her gaze growing more dreamy.

In that moment, Ji Mei felt as if Chen Fang were glowing.

No one could compare to him right now.