Chapter 34 A Kiss That Lost Control…

Chapter 34: A Kiss That Got Out of Control...

Though this separation was merely two days, for the two of them in the height of their romantic phase, even two hours apart felt like an eternity of longing.

During a daytime meeting at the company, Meng Qinghuai sent a message to Guan Yingtang, only to receive a stern, chiding reply: *"No personal chats during work hours."*

It wasn’t until he returned to Jinghua Mansion in the evening that Guan Yingtang finally felt at ease enough to call him. The moment the call connected, she blurted out the words she’d been holding back all day: *"I miss you so much!"*

This was an unabashed declaration of longing from someone he loved, across the distance.

Meng Qinghuai wasn’t one to show his emotions. Raised to be reserved, he was always composed and inscrutable. Having seen enough pretense in the business world, he had gradually grown accustomed to—and even fond of—Guan Yingtang’s straightforwardness.

After a long day at work, hearing such words eased both his mind and body.

*"Me too,"* he said gently. *"But you ignored me earlier."*

*"I didn’t want to distract you!"*

Meng Qinghuai chuckled. *"How thoughtful of you, Miss Guan."*

*"Of course,"* Guan Yingtang replied, pursing her lips before asking, *"Are you bored all alone at night without me?"*

Carrying a glass of water upstairs to the bedroom, Meng Qinghuai answered as he walked, *"If I get bored, I can always look at your photos."*

*"My photos?"*

*"Mhm."*

A brief pause came from the other end of the line. *"...And then take matters into your own hands?"*

*"..."*

Truthfully, it took Meng Qinghuai a few seconds to catch up with her unexpected turn.

*"No,"* he replied solemnly. *"But that’s a good suggestion. Maybe I’ll try it later."*

Guan Yingtang laughed over the phone. *"Then turn on video chat and let me watch."*

*"..."*

His wife could sometimes be too bold.

Meng Qinghuai was speechless, reaching for his water, only to accidentally knock over the glass on the dresser at the foot of the bed.

It was a French-style six-drawer chest, usually used for storage. Since Guan Yingtang had moved in, it had been filled with her undergarments.

Water spilled across the surface and seeped down into the first drawer. Meng Qinghuai grabbed some tissues to wipe it up, but worried the moisture might seep inside, he pulled the drawer open.

His gaze landed on Guan Yingtang’s bras.

His mind, always too quick, immediately conjured the memory of unfastening them—the feel of the clasps, her curves in his hands, and the way she fit perfectly in his arms.

*"Why’d you go quiet?"* Guan Yingtang asked.

Meng Qinghuai came back to himself, his throat dry. *"Nothing. Just knocked over my water."*

Thinking he was tired from work, Guan Yingtang said, *"I’m going to shower. You should rest early."*

*"Alright."*

They said their goodbyes, but neither hung up, listening instead to each other’s breaths as if even that sound was precious.

After a long moment, Guan Yingtang laughed softly. *"Come see me early the day after tomorrow."*

*"Mhm."*

Once the call ended, Meng Qinghuai checked the bras in the drawer to ensure they hadn’t gotten wet. As he was about to close it, his eyes caught on a piece of paper folded into a heart.

Only Guan Yingtang would make something so cute.

He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. At first, he assumed it was just a casual little creation she’d folded, but under the light, he noticed faint writing visible through.

Suddenly, he remembered Guan Yingtang mentioning a gift before she left—one that had been forgotten after their argument.

Could this be it?

Had she written him a letter and folded it into a heart, a symbol of her love?

Meng Qinghuai, the eldest son of the Meng family, who'd lacked for nothing in his life, felt his pulse quicken over a single sheet of paper.

He paused, then carefully unfolded it with long, patient fingers.

The words written inside made him freeze.

*"Go clubbing once, eat street food once, dye my hair once, throw a party once, wear a dress I love once, take a spontaneous trip..."*

This wasn’t a letter. It was a wish list.

The early items were fairly ordinary, but as he read on, the items seemed more and more about *him*.

*Kissing? Sleeping together?* And then—

*"Count how many moles Meng Qinghuai has on his entire body."*

*...?*

He could almost picture Guan Yingtang writing this—smiling to herself, yet carefully writing each word.

Fighting back a smile, he sat on the edge of the bed and studied it carefully.

Some items were marked off, likely completed. Others were left unchecked. But when his gaze landed on the final line, his small smile disappeared.

*"Fall in love with Meng Qinghuai."*

With a little heart drawn next to it.

Yet, in the earlier lines, she had crossed out *"Fall in love once."*

Meng Qinghuai’s eyes lingered over these words, tracing the journey from small, everyday wishes to the gradual inclusion of *him* in the plans for her life.

In that moment, he suddenly realized why Guan Yingtang had come to Beicheng in the first place.

Most of Hong Kong’s public and media had watched Guan Yingtang grow up.

-

While the city had plenty of wealthy families, old scholarly families were rare. This girl, born with every advantage, had been adorable and beautiful as a child, and as she grew, the Guan family molded her into grace, elegance, and poise—earning her the title of Hong Kong’s last true debutante.

Yet this very same debutante had one day shocked the world by completely changing her image, leaving everyone utterly stunned.

The day after parting ways with Meng Qinghuai, and also the day before their next meeting, Guan Yingtang decided to attend a race at the Happy Valley Racecourse.

In the past, such events were unthinkable for Guan Yingtang—far too boisterous and loud, not the kind of place a refined young lady like her would visit. But after Meng Qinghuai returned to Beicheng, his words kept echoing in her mind.

Thinking about it was one thing, but actually taking that first step? Guan Yingtang could already foresee the pressure. Yet the future Meng Qinghuai had painted for her was irresistibly appealing.

The public who claimed to adore her didn’t truly love Guan Yingtang—they loved the aristocratic lady meticulously crafted by Guan Zhiheng.

She wanted the freedom to be herself.

"...Are you sure you want to go dressed like that to go to the races with me?" That afternoon, inside a shopping mall in Central, He Zi gaped in disbelief at Guan Yingtang’s reflection in the mirror.

Even Guan Yingtang had to admit it was daring.

But once she made up her mind, she would push through with it. Besides—

She pointed at her hair. "Isn’t it a bit late to back out now?"

He Zi looked her up and down, still in disbelief. "Be honest—did something trigger this?"

Guan Yingtang swiped her card to pay the sales assistant. "Mmm. Heartbreak."

That encounter with Meng Qinghuai in the car still left her legs sore. So bitter.

He Zi immediately bristled on her friend’s behalf. "I knew that mainland playboy was no good. Li Wan'er had been gossiping that Meng Qinghuai has a girlfriend in Beicheng—supposedly, he even took her to some Spanish banking tycoon’s banquet recently. Said the woman was stunning and sexy."

Guan Yingtang: "..."

Li Wan'er was another socialite famously at odds with Guan Yingtang. With a banker father and a celebrity mother, she had always tried to emulate Guan Yingtang’s image—yet whether it was education, looks, or demeanor, the public never bought it.

This time, she had gotten some hearsay from her mother’s banking colleague and couldn't wait to spread it, not even knowing the full story. But after Guan Zhiheng’s birthday banquet, all rumors were dispelled.

The prospective in-laws had arrived punctually, and Guan Yingtang made a flawless appearance—no trace of the rumored heartbreak.

As for the matter of the Meng heir having a girlfriend? Marriage alliances were about interests. As long as the wife held the rightful title, how many women the husband kept on the side was commonplace in high society.

At most, people might snicker behind her back: *She’ll just be warming the bench after marriage.*

But while outsiders speculated wildly, Guan Yingtang knew the truth—Meng Qinghuai had only her.

She blinked at He Zi and struck a pose. "Mandy, do you think I’m stunning and sexy?"

He Zi: "I think your dad’s going to disown you."

"..."

As it turned out, He Zi knew Guan Zhiheng all too well.

The Happy Valley races began at 7 PM. When Guan Yingtang arrived at 6:30, no one recognized her at first. But her striking looks and bold outfit made her impossible to ignore—a singular presence at the event.

Then, her image appeared on the live broadcast.

*"Was that the Guan family’s daughter just now?"*

*"Wow, why the drastic change?!!!"*

*"Seriously, does Guan Zhiheng have two daughters…?"*

*"I can’t even recognize her!! Is that really her?"*

*"Haha, the aristocratic lady’s image collapsing live?"*

*"Her face is still too regal—even with a makeover, she’s next-level. Just a completely different vibe."*

For the first time in her life, Guan Yingtang appeared before the public exactly how she wanted.

The Miss Guan who always wore cheongsams now donned a sleek black dress with a blazer-inspired cut, her long legs clad in thigh-high black boots.

Her signature pinned-up raven hair was now a cascade of loose, voluminous curls in a muted raspberry red—understated yet undeniably chic.

She had chosen this very setting to make her statement, ensuring there was no turning back.

The media instantly abandoned the races, swarmed around her to capture every angle of her transformation. With thousands at the event, word reached Guan Zhiheng within minutes. The family chauffeur arrived in ten, extracting Guan Yingtang from the crowd and whisking her back to the villa.

Huo Ling was still out with her social circle, leaving Guan Zhiheng to erupt in fury alone.

"Change your clothes immediately and fix your hair," he commanded, barely containing his anger.

Guan Yingtang replied calmly, "I don’t want to."

"You don’t *want* to? Do you realize what you’re doing? You’re not a child—act with some responsibility! Dressing like this—"

"Responsibility isn’t defined by appearance," she countered. "Dad, I still respect you and everyone around me. I just want to live as I please."

"You please yourself, but what will people think? What will the media say?"

"Why should I care what others think? Who cares what *I* think?"

"..."

Guan Zhiheng couldn’t fathom why his once-obedient daughter had suddenly rebelled. Since returning from her trip, she had developed her own will—even if it meant defying him.

But there was no time for reasoning now. The media frenzy had already begun, and while the elders hadn’t caught wind yet, the family’s sole heiress undergoing such a transformation would surely cause an uproar.

He issued an ultimatum. "You have 24 hours to undo your hair, or don’t come back."

Guan Yingtang had anticipated this. She had already booked a hotel room.

At worst, she’d leave home again. But as Meng Qinghuai had said—whether it took a month or a year, her parents would eventually understand and accept her.

"Then I’ll return when you’re ready to accept me."

"You—"

Without hesitation, she walked out. Just beyond the gates, she found He Zi and Jiang Peiming waiting—as if they’d timed it perfectly.

Jiang Peiming tilted his chin at her. "Got an earful?"

Guan Yingtang: "Why are you two here?"

He Zi leaned against her Ferrari. "We were afraid your feudal dad would lock you up. But seems he’s not *that* bad."

Hong Kong’s gossip mill worked fast. Within half an hour, the news had exploded on Facebook.

*"The official's daughter shocks Happy Valley Racecourse with a radical style overhaul—unrecognizable!"*

Jiang Peiming had predicted the clash and rushed over. He Zi had come straight from the races to the family estate.

They both knew Guan Yingtang well enough—her rebellion would send the Guan household into chaos.

"Hop in. I have a vacant apartment you can stay at until Uncle Zhiheng cools down," Jiang Peiming suggested.

In the past, Guan Yingtang might not have refused, but now that she was married, even though Meng Qinghuai wasn’t around, she didn’t want to do anything that might cause misunderstandings.

"No, I’ve booked a hotel."

"Since when do we stand on ceremony?"

He Zi then cut in, "I’ll keep Ah Tang company today. You don’t need to worry."

Jiang Peiming opened his mouth but held back his words in He Zi’s presence.

"Alright then. Hit me up if you need me."

"Mhm."

Guan Yingtang got into He Zi’s red Ferrari and left. She had originally asked to be dropped off at the hotel, but He Zi drove straight to Central, reassuring her, "Don’t be upset. I’ve got your back no matter what."

Guan Yingtang rested her chin on her hand as she stared out the window. "I’m fine, not upset at all."

Guan Zhiheng’s opposition was expected—she had seen it coming.

"If you’re not upset, then let’s have some fun." He Zi parked near Lan Kwai Fong and playfully twirled her car keys. "A drink? On me."

-

Meng Qinghuai completed the work originally planned for two days, as planned. He had intended to fly back to Hong Kong early on the third day, but because of Guan Yingtang’s request for him to come sooner, he decided to fly over that very night.

After arranging an early flight clearance with the airport, Meng Qinghuai didn’t tell Guan Yingtang, privately wanting to surprise her.

At 5 p.m., as he was tying up loose ends and preparing to leave the office, Meng Songnian showed up unexpectedly, saying his younger sister Meng Wennuo was back from vacation and wanted him to return to Meng Manor for dinner.

"Sorry, Dad. I’m flying to Hong Kong soon."

Meng Songnian frowned. "You just got back two days ago, and you’re leaving again?"

Meng Qinghuai replied, "The cooperation plan we finalized with HSBC requires my presence. I’ll also stay longer to review the mid-year reports from the Hong Kong branch."

Mid-year inspections at subsidiaries were part of the normal workflow, and Meng Qinghuai frequently traveled between the two cities. But Meng Songnian sensed something unusual and narrowed his eyes. "Nothing else?"

Meng Qinghuai paused, then decided not to hide it. "I’m going to propose to Miss Guan."

Meng Songnian: "?"

Meng Songnian thought he'd misheard. "What did you say?"

"I said, I’m going to propose to Miss Guan this time."

For three full seconds, the veteran business magnate was rendered speechless by his son's announcement.

"You—" He didn’t know whether to feel proud or shocked.

"I’m in a hurry. I’ve got a plane to catch."

"..."

-

Meng Qinghuai went straight from the office to the airport, even having dinner on the plane. The flight from Beijing to Hong Kong took three and a half hours. Only after landing did he message Guan Yingtang to ask where she was.

But there was no reply for a long time.

As the car left Hong Kong International Airport, Meng Qinghuai called Guan Yingtang. After several rings, someone picked up—but it wasn’t her. Instead, an unfamiliar woman’s voice answered, "Hello, who’s looking for Ah Tang? She’s in the restroom."

The background noise was raucous, clearly from a bar. Meng Qinghuai paused, about to ask further, when someone nearby shouted, "Zi, your turn to drink!"

"Try again later, then." The call was abruptly ended.

Meng Qinghuai glanced at his phone screen. If he wasn’t mistaken, the person who answered was likely Guan Yingtang’s close friend, the He family’s heiress He Zi, whom Meng Songnian’s files had once mentioned.

This young lady was quite well-known in Hong Kong, though her reputation was the polar opposite of Guan Yingtang’s—famous for her love of partying and as a platinum regular at a famous Lan Kwai Fong bar.

Knowing Guan Yingtang was with friends, Meng Qinghuai didn’t rush to call again. After a moment’s thought, he told the driver toward Lan Kwai Fong.

Guan Yingtang only realized He Zi had answered her phone when she returned from the restroom. Seeing it was Meng Qinghuai’s call, she immediately messaged him—

*"You’re off work? I’m out with friends. It’s a bit noisy here."*

Her head was already throbbing from the noise.

He Zi, always the overzealous friend, was convinced Guan Yingtang must be upset after the day’s events—being criticized online, then shown the door. So she quickly organized a gathering, inviting their usual circle of friends to cheer Guan Yingtang up, calling it a "new chapter party."

After the argument with Guan Zhiheng, Guan Yingtang had nowhere else to go and didn’t want to reject her friends’ kindness. But she hadn’t expected He Zi to go overboard.

She had booked out the entire bar. At that moment, several shirtless men were grinding suggestively for them.

"Is there any sadness that can’t be cured by watching hunks dance?" He Zi held a glass of wine and generously tucked a stack of Hong Kong dollars into one dancer’s waistline.

Guan Yingtang: "..."

"Mandy," Guan Yingtang said dryly, staring at the muscular man in front of her. "Your standards are slipping."

He Zi: "This isn’t good enough?"

These were strippers she had carefully selected for Guan Yingtang—each one skilled in dancing and pelvic thrusts that could start earthquakes.

Guan Yingtang shook her head silently, unwilling to explain too much to someone who had never seen Meng Qinghuai write calligraphy. A man’s allure came from restraint, from unaffected charm. Meng Qinghuai didn’t need to do much—just the aura he exuded, or the way he undid his tie while calmly gazing at her—

And Guan Yingtang would be completely gone for him.

Uninterested in the performance, Guan Yingtang scrolled through Facebook for a while, coming across posts criticizing her new look as "unseemly," "too frivolous," and "unbefitting of a cultured socialite."

Zoning out over one particular post, she suddenly went back to texting Meng Qinghuai.

*"What time are you arriving tomorrow morning?"*

*"Why?"*

It didn’t matter what the world thought of her new image, but she cared about Meng Qinghuai’s opinion.

Gnawing her lip, she focused on typing, oblivious that a lanky silhouette in black had just entered the bar and lingered by the bar.

*"Well… the surprise I mentioned might be a bit much. Be prepared."*

After a pause, Meng Qinghuai replied: *"Which surprise are you referring to?"*

Guan Yingtang didn’t understand. Wasn’t her transformation the only surprise? What else could there be?

Before she could reply, Meng Qinghuai suddenly called. Seeing the caller ID flash on her screen, she immediately stood up to find a quieter spot to answer.

In the dim, noisy bar, she ducked her head as she walked toward the exit—only to collide with a solid form at the corner near the counter.

Her curls bounced slightly as she automatically muttered 'sorry'. But the figure suddenly slid an arm around her waist and drew her close.

They vanished instantly into the shadowy corner.

A familiar scent washed over her, and Guan Yingtang froze for a moment before lifting her gaze to meet a pair of dark, inscrutable eyes.

Eyes locked, Guan Yingtang stood frozen in disbelief. "How… you…"

"The surprise you mentioned," Meng Qinghuai murmured, his gaze traveled over her transformed look, "was you."

Then, with a glance toward the men still gyrating wildly on the dance floor, he added flatly, "Or them."

Guan Yingtang didn’t know whether the deafening music or the sudden appearance of this man had left her dizzy. She blinked hard, as if trying to confirm that the figure before her was real and not a hallucination.

Her hair was no longer pinned up in that rigid style—soft, tousled curls swayed, and under the dim, hazy lighting, there was a new allure in her eyes.

It reminded Meng Qinghuai of that fleeting glimpse of her years ago on a yacht.

The dance floor still throbbed with energy when Meng Qinghuai paused, as if no longer caring for an answer, and suddenly cupped her face to kiss her.

The kiss began gently but quickly intensified, too intense—Guan Yingtang swayed, her high heels scraping irregularly against the floor until her back hit the wall.

Two days without touching each other, and a single kiss spiraled out of control.

Guan Yingtang tilted her head back, stifling any sound, though even if she had made any, it would have been swallowed by the booming music. She clung tightly to Meng Qinghuai, her lips parting eagerly under his teasing, their heated breaths mingled—until abruptly, the deafening music cut off.

He Zi’s voice cut through the club over the microphone: "Where’s A Tang?"