Chapter 147 — The Long-Awaited...

In truth, as for the flavor of the juice, Yang Ce found it evocative but could no longer quite recall it. What he remembered most was the person he had drunk it with.

"They still sell this kind of juice tea?" Yang Ce studied the cup in his hand with interest, stirring up countless memories.

"It's not bought—the staff made it for me." Shu Ya smiled. "This juice tea hasn't been sold for ages. They bought the recipe, so they can make it anytime."

Yang Yuting nodded. Many stars had their own hobbies, the kind they clung to faithfully. When you read a celebrity's profile, for instance, you would see questions like their favorite food, favorite drink. He guessed Shu Ya's answer would be this juice tea.

It was not hard to make; you simply mixed the base syrup, added water, and stirred.

"Try it and see how it tastes." Shu Ya handed Yang Puqi a straw, then took one herself, punched it through the seal of her cup, and began drinking with evident relish.

"All right." Yang Ce did want to relive the taste of those years.

Yang Ce sat on the sofa, and Shu Ya, cradling her juice cup, sat down beside Yang Juehuan.

The familiar taste flooded his mouth and left Yang Moyi somewhat dazed. It had been like this back then, too—the two of them sitting together drinking juice; only the person beside him was different now.

Shu Ya's mood seemed to drift as well; holding her juice, she stared blankly into space.

Suddenly he realized that this Shu Ya truly had much in common with Su Ya—the tone of her speech, her expressions, her gestures, the same tastes. And most important of all, where had that ring on her hand come from?

For an instant Yang Ce almost thought Shu Ya was Su Ya. But he could not imagine, could not believe, that a person's appearance could change beyond all recognition. Yes—judged by looks alone, there was not the slightest resemblance.

He had to admit Shu Ya was beautiful too, but in Yang Lanxu's eyes, Su Ya still had the edge.

It was not that Yang Shuoxuan had never suspected Shu Ya of wearing some human-skin mask or the like; but after Yang Ce examined her carefully with his penetrating sight, he found nothing amiss. That was also why Yang Ce ruled out Shu Ya being Su Ya.

Yet that there was a connection between the two, of this Yang Jiyan was utterly certain. He simply did not know how to draw Shu Ya out. Yang Ce badly wanted to ask her whether she knew where Su Ya was, but he feared there might be hidden circumstances, and that alerting Shu Ya would make it all the harder to ask anything afterward. As for having Yang Minlan use some underhanded means, Yang Ce could not bring himself to do it.

So Yang Ce planned to wait until the two of them were better acquainted, then, while Shu Ya's guard was down, press her for a clear answer in one go.

"It's very good. I've had similar fruit tea before—this is exactly the taste." Yang Ce was the first to come back to himself and said to Shu Ya.

"Yes, I love it." Shu Ya said, "I'm a bit hungry. Won't you treat me to something to eat?"

"Now?" Yang Puqi was taken aback. "Where to—the restaurant downstairs?"

"Let's go out. I haven't left the hotel in days for fear of being hounded by reporters. They should all have gone home by now, surely?" Shu Ya said, stretching.

The loose nightgown had not originally revealed Shu Ya's figure, but when she raised both arms, the full swell of her breasts came into view, with two points standing out against the fabric—clearly she wore nothing underneath.

Catching Yang Juehuan's gaze, Shu Ya flushed, though a flicker of smugness stirred within her. Back when you touched them, they weren't this big, were they?

"Ahem, ahem." Realizing Shu Ya had caught him staring, Yang Ce coughed awkwardly twice. To cover his embarrassment, he stood up and said, "I'll wait for you out in the corridor. Go ahead and change."

Passing through the outer room, he saw Xu Li still lying motionless on the bed. Yang Shuoxuan paid her little mind.

Seeing Yang Ce standing at the door, one of the men on duty immediately hurried over. "Brother Yang, is there something you need?"

"Nothing much. Shu Ya and I are heading out for a bit—tell the boys they can take a break." Yang Yanzhou said.

"Thanks, Brother Yang!" the man said hurriedly, gratitude in his voice. In his heart, though, he was filled with genuine admiration—Brother Yang really was something else, snagging a movie star this fast. Still, it was only a thought; he didn't dare say it aloud.

He understood well enough that trouble comes out of the mouth—especially for those in the underworld. Fail to keep your mouth shut, and you might just end up dumped in some desolate wilderness.

Before long, Shu Ya pushed the door open and stepped out, dressed in a cream-yellow down jacket, a small white rabbit-fur hat on her head and heart-shaped earmuffs, indescribably adorable.

"Let's go." Shu Ya shrank her neck and said in a small voice. She looked for all the world like a young girl sneaking out of the house for a secret tryst with her sweetheart.

"Let's go." Yang Ce walked side by side with Shu Ya toward the elevator. "You look—comfortable, dressed like this."

It was rare for Yang Ce to offer a word of praise, and it set Shu Ya's heart fluttering. The outfit looked simple enough, but she had put considerable thought into it—all for Yang Ce's eyes.

Though everyone at the hotel recognized Shu Ya, she was leaving together with Yan, so no one dared stand in her way. Only after they were out the hotel door did Yang Ce remember that the car he'd brought today was that Jinbei van—and he wondered whether a star like her could get used to riding in it.

In the bitter cold of the deep winter, as Shu Ya had said, most of the reporters had gone home. But one tabloid reporter from Hong Kong was still stubbornly camped in a corner by the hotel entrance, hoping to bring back some explosive news.

The ferocity of Hong Kong's paparazzi was known throughout the country, and here was a fine example of it.

Infrared camera in hand, the tabloid reporter excitedly clicked away at the shutter. Shu Ya out on the town late at night with a young man—now that was big news! How could he not be excited?

As he pressed the shutter, the reporter began to fantasize about how much his editor would reward him with once he got back—money, women… It never occurred to him to consider just how shameless his own digging into others' lives was.

To be continued.

723. The Star's Friend

The tabloid reporter was still buzzing with excitement when he suddenly felt a tap on his back. He froze and turned around, only to see two burly men in black suits and sunglasses staring coldly at him.

"Is there something you gentlemen want?" the reporter asked nervously. It was the middle of the night—surely they weren't here to rob him?

One of the men, expressionless, pointed at the camera in the reporter's hands and spat out two cold words: "Hand it over."

"Huh?" The reporter blinked. Could this really be a robbery? Well, fine—robbery or not, as long as he could keep the memory card in the camera, the rest didn't matter. The footage he'd just captured was worth any number of cameras. So he said, "Sure, sure, no problem. But could you leave me the memory card? It's not worth much—thirty, twenty yuan at most."

The man in black didn't answer. He simply snatched the camera from the reporter's hands and pulled out the memory card.

"Thank you, thank you!" The reporter thought the man was about to hand the card back and had just started to thank him—but then he saw him slip the memory card straight into his pocket. Puzzled, he asked, "What are you—"

The man in black smashed the remaining camera into the reporter's face and snarled, "Get lost. If I ever see you again, I'll finish you off."

By now the reporter understood everything. He wasn't stupid—these men weren't robbers at all. He had photographed something he shouldn't have, and they had come looking for him.