Chapter Eleven: Enchanting the Soul of a Woman

Mai Xijun felt a hollow thud in her chest; now, embarrassment was unavoidable...

But at that very moment, a pair of strong, steady arms reached out toward her, supporting her arm, and another pair of hands appeared at her waist.

With a graceful movement, her body was caught securely, so swiftly that Mai Xijun hadn’t even time to react.

“Are you alright?” A rich, magnetic voice drifted low above her head, settling softly at her ear.

When Mai Xijun finally steadied herself and looked up, a sharply defined face came into view. His eyes, shaped like a hawk’s, were deep and cold as a winter lake. His brows arched slightly, lips thin and tinged with an elusive smile that lent him a touch of devilish charm. Yet more than anything, he radiated the aura of a king returning to command storms and winds.

Such a fine appearance—handsome, alluring features, with a cold, unruly gaze that brazenly studied her, searching her face.

Mai Xijun remained silent. The crowd’s attention gathered, watching her and sizing up the sudden arrival of this man, followed by a chorus of murmurs.

Mai Xijun wanted to utter a word of thanks, but the man easily drew her into his embrace, flashing her a wicked smile, his expression layered with meanings impossible to fathom.

Those ink-black eyes—did they really make her feel an inexplicable joy?

Shen Yanlie curled his lips, fixing his gaze on the group before him. Aside from He Jingjing and Xue Lizan, there were others clearly waiting to see her make a fool of herself.

Of course, He Jingjing’s intent was not merely to enjoy the spectacle, but to embarrass Mai Xijun. The reason? The moment she saw her, He Jingjing raised her voice and said, “That outfit’s not bad. I’d guess it’s worth ten thousand at most, right?”

Sharp-tongued and biting, exposing her poverty.

“This young lady certainly has a keen eye. However... the price you quoted is far off,” Shen Yanlie said, lips curled with mockery, eyes full of arrogant mischief—the kind of bad man most women can’t help but like, one who could easily ensnare their souls and captivate their hearts.

He Jingjing arched a brow. “Oh? Is that so? I’d say the dress is worth around ten thousand. But what do you mean by ‘far off’? Is it not worth that much?”

Xue Lizan stood at He Jingjing’s side, hesitating to speak. Everyone was speculating about the dress’s price, though the sharp-eyed had already guessed.

Shen Yanlie smiled again, lightly. “Just now I thought you had a discerning eye, Miss, but your last remark rather lessens that. This dress is entirely handmade, and any piece like it is worth around a million. So tell me, do you think your price is too low or too high? Hmm?”

His words were unhurried, his lips forming an elegant arc. A soft chuckle escaped him, carrying an unspoken pressure, yet his large hands still rested at Mai Xijun’s waist.

The man’s wicked features and indifferent expression told Mai Xijun that he was far from the calm, refined gentleman he appeared to be. In fact, he was likely cold and ruthless at heart.

That final, soft “Hmm?”—though delivered with poise, lending him a mysterious allure—was filled with playful challenge, not entirely serious, nor quite joking. It was rich with provocation and mischief.

Regarding this sudden stranger, Mai Xijun tilted her head, stealing a glance at him. There was something oddly familiar about him, but she couldn’t recall where she’d seen him. Perhaps, they had never met, and it was merely an illusion born of her imagination.