Chapter Thirty-Six: An Invitation from the Mysterious Girl

Chapter Thirty-Six: The Mysterious Girl's Invitation

In the vast expanse of the dance floor, men and women seemed to have fallen into a frenzy of wild abandon, their faces twisted with a kind of ecstatic madness. Especially under the rhythmic guidance of the DJ, there was no hope for calm.

Fortunately, Xia Zheng was under Shen Hua’s protection, allowing him to retain a sliver of clarity.

After about twenty minutes, the feverish atmosphere finally receded, giving way to a more relaxed vibe. Exhausted men and women slowly regained their senses, drifting out of the dance floor and toward the surrounding bars.

Hand in hand, Shen Hua led Xia Zheng to one of the bars on the side. Around them, many young men and women were seated, all strikingly attractive. Amidst these men, Xia Zheng appeared rather plain.

“What can I get for you?” Soon, a tall, handsome bartender came over, speaking directly to Shen Hua. Xia Zheng seemed beneath his notice—did ordinary men simply not count for anything? Or perhaps only average-looking men didn’t. What the hell!

Shen Hua pointed to a cocktail some others had ordered and said, “We’ll have that—one for me and my boyfriend.” Xia Zheng glanced at the drink she indicated—it was a cocktail with celery root, lemon, and a tomato-juice-like red liquid.

The bartender shot Xia Zheng a surprised look, as if wondering how a man as unremarkable as him could have a girlfriend like Shen Hua.

“Master, I suddenly really want to punch this bartender. The way he looks at me is as if I’m a pile of dung!” Xia Zheng grumbled.

Shen Hua laughed so hard she could barely straighten up, hugging his head to her chest to comfort him. Xia Zheng, pressed against her ample curves, struggled to sit upright again, while Shen Hua seemed all the more pleased with what she saw.

“Here you go, two Bloody Marys. Enjoy,” the bartender said, placing two cocktails before them, then moving off to serve other customers. He clearly preferred serving the women and was far less enthusiastic with the men.

Xia Zheng picked up his drink, studying it carefully and giving it a sniff. It had a sweet and sour aroma, but the scent of alcohol wasn’t strong.

“This drink is actually pretty easy to get drunk on, and it’s not always what it seems,” Shen Hua said mysteriously, raising her glass.

“What do you mean?” Xia Zheng asked, curious.

“Guess,” Shen Hua replied, leaving it at that.

By now it was past two in the morning. After about half an hour’s rest, another round of pulsating music erupted; the DJ set the beat again, and the couples who’d been resting eagerly returned to the dance floor. This time, though, something was different.

Xia Zheng didn’t join the dancers. He instead turned his attention to the people around him, especially the strikingly handsome men. They all seemed very young—no older than their early thirties at most—with tall, trim figures, striking features, and skin so pale it seemed almost sickly. Their faces were so perfectly sculpted they looked hand-drawn, the kind of beauty rarely seen in real life. It was no wonder women fell for them so easily—women really do have a weakness for a beautiful face.

On the dance floor, the men and women danced even more wantonly than before, pressing close cheek to cheek in an atmosphere thick with flirtation. The DJ had switched to a blonde woman, dressed provocatively, but the most unsettling thing was her seductive whispers in the earpiece—her voice stirring the crowd to the point where many soon began making out right there on the floor.

The dancers were quickly losing all sense of propriety, but what drew Xia Zheng’s attention most was a group of people who clearly stood apart. There were about twenty of them, dressed not in contemporary clothes but in long robes and gowns, moving with elegance and an air of nobility. The men wore robes, the women flowing dresses.

Compared to the golden-haired, red-haired, and even silver-haired pretty boys in the club, these people were like aristocrats, while the others seemed more like attendants.

Among this group, Xia Zheng noticed a girl—stunningly beautiful, seemingly not yet twenty, and no more than 160 centimeters tall. Her features seemed calculated and chiseled to perfection, nearly flawless, save for a slight stiffness in her expression.

She appeared to hold a position of authority, as the twenty or so others seemed to defer to her. They moved to a section of the bar that served as a VIP lounge, sitting down only after she had taken her seat.

These people all seemed to be observing the frenzied dancers on the floor. Then a handsome attendant handed each of them a tool that resembled a mirror. They raised these mirrors one-handed, as if to study their favored targets more closely.

They whispered and exchanged comments, and to Xia Zheng, it felt as though they were appraising merchandise.

Just then, a gaze suddenly landed on Xia Zheng. He felt it instantly and quickly averted his eyes, pretending to drink but not actually sipping.

Shen Hua’s voice came to him through a mental link: “That girl across from you is coming over. Looks like she’s after you. I’ll head into the dance floor for now—fill me in later.”

“Uh…” Xia Zheng hesitated, then nodded, following her instructions since he had little experience in such situations.

Soon, the stunning girl took a seat beside him, and when Xia Zheng turned to look, he took in her appearance.

Her long, ash-blond hair fell straight over her shoulders; her profile was nothing short of breathtaking, with a high-bridged nose, well-defined features, and a graceful neck. Her lips were full but not overly so—a true beauty. If there was a flaw, it was only the faint stiffness to her expression.

“Was that your girlfriend just now?” the girl asked. Her voice wasn’t the usual crisp and clear tone one might expect, but rather carried a hint of magnetic huskiness—mature and seductive, at odds with her youthful appearance.

Xia Zheng nodded. “Is there a problem?”

“Aren’t you afraid she’ll be taken advantage of by some guy on the dance floor?” The girl held an icy blue drink called “Frozen Abyss,” which looked rather strange.

Xia Zheng set down his untouched Bloody Mary and shook his head. “My girlfriend knows some self-defense. I’m not worried.”

The girl laughed, taking a sip of her drink. “What if she doesn’t resist, though?”

Her teeth were perfect—white as clouds, without the slightest stain, and perfectly aligned, though her canines were slightly pronounced.

“I trust her completely,” Xia Zheng replied. He asked the bartender for a soda water, as he really had no interest in drinking. The bartender rolled his eyes but poured him a glass.

“Look—someone’s making a move on your girlfriend,” the girl teased.

Xia Zheng raised his soda and looked over. Sure enough, a red-haired Adonis was sidling up to Shen Hua on the dance floor, inviting her to dance. Shen Hua swayed her mature figure to the music without a care, every move highlighting her feminine allure.

Only now did Xia Zheng realize he had underestimated his master’s charm—he was simply too used to seeing her other side.

The men and women around Shen Hua were in a frenzy, their movements increasingly wild. The red-haired man, thinking Shen Hua wouldn’t refuse, reached for her waist, only to have his hand swatted away.

But a seasoned player like him wasn’t deterred. In his mind, a woman’s resistance only meant she cared—and he pressed in even closer.

Xia Zheng tensed, but then smiled. The red-haired man, pressed up against her, was suddenly doubled over in pain, clutching his waist as if struck in a vital spot.

Shen Hua continued dancing unconcerned, and no other men dared approach her after that.

“Your girlfriend is impressive. Here’s to you,” the girl said, raising her Frozen Abyss. Xia Zheng nodded, expressing his thanks, and took a sip of his soda.

The girl’s attire was distinctly old-fashioned, as if she belonged to another era. She didn’t leave but leaned even closer to Xia Zheng.

“Would you like to go somewhere else for a drink with me?” she asked, her voice tinged with invitation.

Xia Zheng glanced at her, sensing that she was exerting a kind of psychic influence—something that would have overwhelmed an ordinary mind. But for him, a telepath, such tricks were easy to resist.

“My girlfriend’s coming back. Sorry.” Xia Zheng stood, facing Shen Hua’s direction. Just then, another song ended; the couples on the dance floor reluctantly broke apart and returned to the bars.

The girl, seeing this, muttered a curse under her breath, clearly disgruntled, but as Shen Hua approached, she instantly regained her elegant composure.

“And who might this be?” Shen Hua asked, feigning curiosity as she looked at the girl whose beauty was easily a match for her own.

Xia Zheng turned to the girl. The girl lifted her skirt gracefully, stepping back to perform a noble bow. “My name is Mirabel Meszaros. Delighted to meet you both. I’m a friend of the bar owner and am here on holiday for the next few days.”

“So you’re Miss Meszaros? A pleasure to meet you. I’m Shen Xiaohua, and this is my boyfriend, Ah Zheng,” Shen Hua said, extending her hand.

“Just call me Mirabel. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the girl replied, showing no trace of awkwardness—as if she hadn’t just been flirting with Xia Zheng moments ago.

Xia Zheng noticed that the aristocratic men across from them were all watching their group, confirming that Mirabel was no ordinary girl. By calling herself the bar owner’s friend, she was clearly elevating her own status.

The three of them fell into an easy conversation, and soon the bartender brought over an array of food and drinks—none of it cheap, the drinks alone costing several thousand pounds.

It was nearly three in the morning when Mirabel proposed, “We seem to have hit it off—would you both be interested in joining me for a more private gathering? It’s much more fun than here, and there’s a secret ceremony involved. The event is underground and only open to a select few. Most people can only dream of attending.”

“It begins,” Xia Zheng and Shen Hua exchanged a knowing look, both aware this invitation was far from ordinary.

“Really?” Shen Hua feigned surprise—the typical reaction of a young person confronted with something mysterious.

Xia Zheng’s response was less convincing, and only after Shen Hua pinched his backside did he catch on and play along. “We wouldn’t want to impose…”

Mirabel seemed unbothered by Xia Zheng’s awkwardness, having already pegged him as a typical straight-laced guy, not much for socializing.

After some polite delay, the two agreed to follow Mirabel to the basement level. They also noticed that many of the handsome men and women like Mirabel each brought a companion—men usually with women, women with men—numbering in the dozens, perhaps even a hundred.

Many cast envious glances at those heading downstairs to the ceremony, while Xia Zheng privately scoffed at their naïveté, realizing they had no clue what they were in for.

At the entrance to the basement, guards stood watch—tall and imposing—handing each guest a mask or blindfold to conceal their features, adding to the air of mystery.