Cheating CEO

Chapter 8: Exchanging Dance Partners

With such audacious intimacy, Ling Yanhong lowered his head to press a gentle kiss upon his wife, cherishing her as if she were the most precious treasure he held. The display drew not only the sidelong glances of the younger women but also stirred a pang of envy in the hearts of the older ones, who recalled that the men of their youth had never lavished such adoration upon them.

It was flamboyant, yet tasteful. With his head bowed, his smile was so captivating that to onlookers, it was merely a tender scene between a loving young couple. They remained oblivious to the tempest raging within the heart of one of the players.

"Must I kiss you again?"

His smile was utterly gleeful, a performance of a devoted husband full of romantic charm, looking down upon her with such adoration. Yet, there was not a trace of warmth in his eyes; all she could see was his frigidity, and a faint glint of mischief.

Was she that amusing to him? That easy to bully? Dissatisfaction brewed within her, and she wanted to struggle free. But a single glance toward her father and older brother, their eyes filled with concern, made her instinctively offer them a sweet smile in return. Then she looked up, glaring at the man who was her husband in name, her bright eyes defiant. A sweet smile blossomed, making her delicate features seem all the more vibrant.

How could a woman's eyes be so purely luminous? Gong Shichen’s crimson cheeks made Ling Yanhong steal another glance, especially at the way she deliberately, desperately, suppressed her emotions. It was utterly adorable.

"If you think this is for the best, I will play my part."

She mumbled through a sweet smile, the words spoken through gritted teeth. But her perpetually serene face was ill-suited for such close-quarters contention with a man, and the effort of speaking sent a deep blush spreading across it.

A woman, smiling while seething with rage. Ling Yanhong's own smile widened—partly for the audience, and partly from an involuntary flicker of amusement.

"You truly are a considerate and understanding woman!"

He arched a brow, his voice a soft whisper that was meant to sound like a lover’s confidence, but was laced with the cold sting of sarcasm.

"Of course!"

She found him utterly detestable once more. How long would he use her as his shield? Who was this performance for?

She tilted her face, the furious flames in her eyes meeting his cool, sidelong gaze. He was smiling, the corners of his lips curved. She smiled back, her gaze resolute.

From an outsider's perspective, the tender affection between Ling Yanhong and his lovely wife was a scene of profound, enviable bliss.

This tableau was finally broken, however, by someone who disliked the current music. Luo Wenke, for instance, after stepping on Zhuang Wentian's foot for the second time, pouted with a delicate air of dissatisfaction.

"Darling, this song is dreadfully slow. I much prefer the one we danced to last time."

Zhuang Wentian listened with a faint smile, then led her from the dance floor. As the musician was about to switch tracks, he approached, and of course, no musician, however unaccommodating, would refuse a request from Zhuang Wentian.

A bright, lively melody began, yet it possessed a gentle, soaring quality. It evoked images of lovers running through a meadow, or strolling along a beach. Luo Wenke took Zhuang Wentian's hand, a sweet smile gracing her lips.

"Thank you, my love—"

A charming smile bloomed on Zhuang Wentian's refined, handsome face. "As long as you're happy," he said, his tone indulgent and gracious.

Luo Wenke radiated pure bliss. Her gaze no longer wandered, but was fixed on Zhuang Wentian as they danced in perfect harmony. Though the sudden change in music had startled many, they relaxed upon realizing it was Zhuang Wentian's doing.

But as the new song began and Zhuang Wentian and Luo Wenke became the center of attention, Ling Yanhong retreated from the dance floor. He led Gong Shichen to a table, poured a glass of red wine, and began to drink in silence. Gong Shichen sensed the complete absence of a smile on his glacial face. Suspicious, she turned her gaze back to the dance floor, only to see the radiantly smiling Luo Wenke, laughing and chatting with her husband. They appeared far more elegant, more at ease, than she and Ling Yanhong had.

They were the true prince and princess, weren't they?

Gong Shichen stared, mesmerized, oblivious to the icy gaze Ling Yanhong was casting from behind her toward the dance floor. The sight of that woman's smiling face turned the blood in his veins to ice.

Seeing Ling Yanhong drinking sullenly without a word, Gong Shichen quickly found a tray and picked at some pastries, making a perfunctory show of eating.

"Yanhong, may I have this dance?"

The voice from behind made Gong Shichen turn. The elegant Zhuang Wentian had approached them, Luo Wenke's hand still in his. Had the song already ended?

Zhuang Wentian's arrival and his sudden invitation first startled Gong Shichen, then made her look toward Ling Yanhong. A faint, possessive smile touched Ling Yanhong’s cold face.

"Please, take good care of her. Shichen is very shy."

For a fleeting moment, Gong Shichen felt as if Ling Yanhong had unceremoniously tossed her to Zhuang Wentian. The feeling made her want to glare daggers, but the object of her ire was already speaking to Luo Wenke.

"I hear your dancing is superb, Yanhong. May I have the honor?"

Luo Wenke smiled faintly, having clearly received her husband's approval. Whatever she wished to do, Zhuang Wentian would indulge her. Such was the life of a cherished woman.

Gong Shichen watched as Ling Yanhong bowed, a perfect gentleman, and took Luo Wenke's hand. As they glided onto the dance floor, they drew countless gazes. A sudden bewilderment washed over her. Why did they look more like the prince and princess? Was she, the ugly duckling, only diminishing her prince's stature?

"Shall we?"

Zhuang Wentian smiled gently, addressing the still-dazed Gong Shichen. His refined courtesy won her immediate approval and admiration, which naturally led to a pang of sour resentment. Was any woman as unlucky as she, married to such an absolute scoundrel?

And so, lost in her thoughts, she unfortunately made a mistake, stepping squarely on the foot of this Prince Charming.