Duan Fei took the freshly poured cup of wine from the woman beside him, sipped it leisurely, then said with a slow smile:
“Better to envy the love of mandarin ducks than the lives of the immortals. Wouldn’t you agree, my lady?”
Hong Ning did not answer.
She only smiled.
Duan Fei studied her for a long moment before setting down his wine cup. He lifted a hand, motioning for the woman kneeling at his feet to step away, then slowly sat upright. This posture should have made him appear more serious, yet when he did it, he somehow looked even more at ease—refined and approachable.
Especially in that instant—his gaze, suddenly brightened, carried an unmistakable trace of anticipation.
“It seems my beauty has nowhere to go?”
Hong Ning remained silent.
Such perceptiveness—this was not something an ordinary frivolous playboy would possess.
Duan Fei rose from the bamboo couch and strolled toward her unhurriedly.
Only then did Hong Ning realize just how tall he was—he stood nearly a full head above her. With that stature, that elegance, he was the very embodiment of "a jade tree in the wind" [a phrase describing a man of extraordinary grace and refinement]. Even in a crowd, he would stand out at a glance.
There was an unspoken aura about him, an invisible force that made those in his presence instinctively lower themselves, unwilling to meet his gaze head-on.
But more than half of that presence came from something deeper—an underlying authority.
Anyone who could build a business empire of this scale was not someone to be taken lightly.
He lowered his face, closing in on her.
Hong Ning did not retreat. Instead, she tilted her head up to meet his gaze.
“A unique beauty,” Duan Fei murmured, lightly cupping her chin between his fingers, his eyes filled with unreserved admiration. “Then why not stay and offer yourself to me?”
Hong Ning did not hesitate.
“Alright.”
As if he had expected her answer all along, Duan Fei effortlessly pulled her to sit beside him on the couch. He turned to the two women nearby and chuckled.
“The estate is about to become livelier. A newly acquired beauty—how can we not drink to celebrate? Quickly, pour the wine!”
The two women hurriedly filled the cups and presented them.
Duan Fei took one but did not drink. Instead, he brought the cup to Hong Ning’s lips.
“A toast, my beauty. Drink with your Duan Lang [a flirtatious way of referring to himself as her beloved].”
Hong Ning glanced at the wine, completely unruffled.
“Does Young Master Duan truly want me to drink this cup?”
Duan Fei asked directly, “What do you want?”
Hong Ning raised a hand and pointed to the two women beside them.
“Send them away.”
The two women didn’t immediately react with anger. Instead, they turned to Duan Fei, pouting coquettishly.
“Duan Lang~”
Duan Fei laughed heartily.
Hong Ning felt another jolt in her chest.
That laughter—she had heard it before, somewhere in the distant past.
Neither too deep nor too light, seven parts joyful, three parts carefree—
Spring wind in full bloom, unrestrained and unburdened.
“The new beauty is jealous, so I’ll have to send you both away first,” Duan Fei teased with a smile, coaxing them gently before raising his voice. “Qiushui, Lüqi—escort the ladies out.”
Two maids immediately entered in response.
She actually meant it.
The woman who had suggested "offering herself" could no longer keep smiling.
Both of them shot Hong Ning unmasked glares of resentment before finally rising.
After all, in Ganzhou City, who didn’t know of Duan Fei’s reputation as a notorious flirt? This sort of thing was nothing unusual.
The two women had been brought back from outside, fully aware of his nature—he loved novelty, left traces of affection wherever he went.
So while they felt disappointed, they weren’t exactly surprised.
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