Wu Маngmаng fоllowed Shеn Тing оut оf thе villa and was аbоut to bid him farеwell to hеаd tо thе stаblеs when she nоticed Shen Ting walking in the sаmе direсtion. Sееing thаt Wu Мangmаng hаdn’t саught uр for а while, he stoррed аnd turned to loоk at her. "Кeeр uр."
Wu Маngmаng glаnсed at Shеn Тing in his cаsuаl аttire. Нe соuld certаinlу ride а horse—aftеr all, men worе раnts, making it сonvenient tо ridе аnytimе.
"Тhаnk уоu sо much fоr еarliеr, Mr. Shеn," Wu Mangmаng said, jоgging а сouрlе оf stеps to cаtch up.
"Weren’t yоu calling me 'Shеn Ting' quite smоothlу bеforе?" Shen Ting retorted.
Wu Mangmang could only offer a wry smile. She had no desire to get close to Ning Zheng, nor did she want to cozy up to Shen Ting.
The subtle disdain hidden deep in Shen Ting’s eyes when he looked at her had never escaped her notice.
The stables were impeccably clean, housing dozens of horses. Shen Ting led Wu Mangmang to a stall where a pure white horse stood—tall, beautiful, with a dark plum blossom marking on its forehead. Shen Ting called it "Elizabeth."
Shen Ting took some hay from the nearby feeding trough to feed Elizabeth, stroking its mane as he spoke to Wu Mangmang. "She’s a Lipizzaner, very gentle. Get to know her."
Shen Ting handed the hay to Wu Mangmang.
Elizabeth was indeed gentle, and before long, Wu Mangmang had bonded with her. Slowly, she led the horse out of the stable and onto the pasture.
"Aren’t you going to ride?" Wu Mangmang asked Shen Ting.
Earlier, Shen Ting hadn’t picked a horse for himself.
"I’ll watch you ride for a bit," Shen Ting replied.
Wu Mangmang acknowledged with a nod, adjusted her hat, and was about to mount when Shen Ting extended his hand. She paused for a moment—quite the gentlemanly gesture.
Placing her hand in Shen Ting’s palm, Wu Mangmang used his support to step onto the stirrup and swing her other leg over the horse’s back.
Unfortunately, her riding skills had grown rusty, and she misjudged the force. Hoping to emulate Shen Yuanzi’s graceful dismount, she ended up putting too much strength into the motion and bumped against the saddle.
Wu Mangmang winced in pain but refrained from making an undignified fuss. Instead, she joked self-deprecatingly, "Good thing I don’t have balls, or that would’ve really hurt."
Shen Ting chuckled softly. He led Elizabeth forward for a short distance, and once Wu Mangmang had settled into her seat, he gently patted the horse’s hindquarters. "Try riding on your own now."
Wu Mangmang hummed in agreement and urged Elizabeth into a light trot.
Soon, the familiar sensation of riding—like soaring through clouds—returned. Wu Mangmang joyfully circled the pasture a few times, passing by Shen Ting again. She whistled at him, grinning as she pointed into the distance. "I’m going to check out the lake over there."
Before the words had fully faded from Shen Ting’s ears, Wu Mangmang and Elizabeth had already dashed several yards away.
In no time, the figures of the rider and horse became a tiny speck on the horizon.
It was only then that Shen Ting realized he, too, had been left behind by Wu Mangmang.
Wu Mangmang rode straight toward the lake she had spotted from the plane. By the shore stood a solitary tree, lending the scene a serene and leisurely atmosphere.
Evening clouds had begun to paint the sky in shades of orange-red, golden-yellow, and rose gold. Wu Mangmang retrieved her phone and a pre-prepared selfie stick from the saddlebag. Using the lone tree as a makeshift pole, she happily snapped photos.
Finally, she leaned against the tree trunk, sitting on the grass with one leg bent, and took a picture with the lake as her backdrop.After using Meitu Xiu Xiu to edit it a bit more, she adjusted the overall background tone to a desolate, yellowish hue.
She herself was photographed backlit, her features hidden in a shadowy gray, mysterious and delicate like a silhouette.
Wu Mangmang admired her photo—the composition and colors were both so aesthetically pleasing that she wished she could give it as many likes as there were phone numbers.
Next, Wu Mangmang sat leaning against the tree trunk, completely without grace, and began pulling at her hair while editing the text.
Showing off wealth is actually a task that tests one’s intelligence. If all you do is take pictures of bags and food, it’s too tasteless and easily overshadowed by even more expensive bags.
Wu Mangmang followed the artistic and melancholic route of flaunting wealth, attracting both a crowd of artistic young women and a group of melancholic young men.
"Sitting quietly alone under the tree, I think of Shakyamuni from back in the day—the holy monk attained enlightenment under the Bodhi tree. And today, can I attain enlightenment about my own life?"
Sour, so sour!
Wu Mangmang herself made a gagging motion as she looked at it.
But sour as it was, it still made us seem quite refined, didn’t it? Even with a touch of religious temperament.
However, what followed wasn’t so pleasant.
The signal on the grassland wasn’t great, so Wu Mangmang held her phone high and walked around the lake, searching everywhere for a signal.
With no success, Wu Mangmang had no choice but to climb onto her horse’s back, controlling the reins with one hand while holding her phone high with the other, searching for a signal everywhere.
Finally, when her phone had two bars of signal, Wu Mangmang was more excited than if she had earned eight million. She quickly sent out the edited text and photo, anxiously watching the spinning loading icon on the screen, not daring to click refresh—it was truly frustrating.
Fortunately, the Weibo post finally went through, and replies soon followed.
"Sour! So sour my teeth are falling out. Just call him Buddha, okay? What’s with ‘holy monk’?" followed by a string of vomiting emojis.
The comment was from Long Xiujuan.
Wu Mangmang pouted, thinking, What do you know? Have you even watched Journey to the West? I’m using the tone of the Queen of the Daughter Kingdom here.
Recently, there had been too many TV shows and books fantasizing about monks, making Wu Mangmang somewhat intrigued by bald heads, especially foreign monks who could marry and had private helicopters.
After pouting, Wu Mangmang quickly typed a reply to Long Xiujuan, "Are you pregnant? Morning sickness seems pretty severe."
Unfortunately, mobile signals were truly mobile—at this moment, Wu Mangmang’s phone signal was back to zero. She had to raise both hands high again, spin around in place twice, and finally regain two bars of signal to send the reply.
At this moment, Jiang Baoliang, who was on the villa rooftop preparing to stargaze with a telescope, had completely shifted his interest to Wu Mangmang.
"This girl is hilarious. What on earth is she doing? She keeps circling that spot and raising her hands nonstop." Jiang Baoliang laughed heartily, turning to Lu Sui and saying, "Come take a look, it’s too funny."
Lu Sui expressed no interest.
Jiang Baoliang didn’t press further—he knew that women held less attraction for Lu Sui than an ant.
"This girl isn’t just mentally troubled; she might be a bit off in the head too, right?" Jiang Baoliang continued watching, laughing so hard he nearly doubled over. "This trip wasn’t a waste."
Lu Sui had now stepped up to the telescope beside him. After watching for a moment, he said, "She’s looking for a phone signal."
"Phone signal?" Jiang Baoliang couldn’t understand.
For a phone signal, was it really worth it?But this seemed to be the only plausible explanation.
After receiving Lu Qingqing’s urgent dinner summons, Wu Mangmang rushed back to the villa as if riding on clouds. She went upstairs for a quick shower, changed into a new dress, and hurried back downstairs.
Dinner was set up in the garden.
The sky was dotted with countless stars, with the handle of the Big Dipper exceptionally clear.
On the ground, an array of specially airlifted flowers emitted a delicate fragrance.
Not far from the dining table, a violinist was playing.
In Wu Mangmang’s words, the dinner party was romantic enough to rival a wedding banquet, clearly designed to cater to the ladies.
When you’ve had too many good things, everything starts to taste the same.
Tonight’s dinner was clearly meant for conversation.
Wu Mangmang and Lu Qingqing sat at the far end of the table. The lady beside them had no intention of engaging in conversation, leaning her body thirty degrees to the left throughout the meal to make her stance clear.
Wu Mangmang was quite content with the peace and quiet. She hated nothing more than forcing herself to chat during a meal until her face ached from smiling.
The internet connection here was excellent, perfect for scrolling through Weibo and her social media feed.
Occasionally looking up to relax her neck, Wu Mangmang’s gaze met Shěn Yuànzǐ’s in mid-air. The young lady indifferently looked away, leaving Wu Mangmang to exchange a glance with Ning Zheng, who was sitting beside Shěn Yuànzǐ.
Then, decisively ignoring the other’s complicated expression, she buried her head back in her phone to scroll through Weibo.
“I don’t know why, but I suddenly feel like dancing,” Du Yijun said, putting down her napkin with a sigh and a smile.
“I wonder if I have the honor of inviting Miss Du for a dance,” Lu Sui said, standing up.
As the host, Lu Sui naturally had to ensure his guests enjoyed themselves.
Though he was reserved, as if nothing could truly touch his heart, his demeanor wasn’t as aloof as Shen Ting’s.
Du Yijun was naturally delighted to agree.
Wu Mangmang leaned close to Lu Qingqing’s ear and whispered, “Why did our uncle call her Miss Du?”
Lu Qingqing had a much broader network of information than Wu Mangmang. After chatting with Du Yijun in the afternoon, she had already looked up everything about her on social media.
“I heard she’s in the middle of a divorce with Mr. Liu,” Lu Qingqing said.
Wu Mangmang nodded. It seemed Lu Sui was either Du Yijun’s newly sought patron, or he was trying to win her over.
In any case, it was a mutually beneficial match.
It was already quite an effort for Wu Mangmang to think this far. She didn’t have the patience to speculate further, so she stopped her imagination from running wild.
The handsome man and beautiful woman dancing together were a delight to watch. What was rare was that Lu Sui danced without the usual stiffness men often displayed, moving like rigid skeletons with outstretched arms.
Lu Sui’s dance moves were elegant and fluid, perfectly controlled. He gently lifted his arm to guide Du Yijun into a graceful spin, a truly pleasing sight. The two of them were undoubtedly masters of the dance floor.
Their performance undoubtedly ignited everyone’s enthusiasm for dancing.
After dancing a piece with Shěn Yuànzǐ, Ning Zheng invited every other woman present to dance, deliberately skipping Wu Mangmang to show his displeasure at her earlier rejection.
After dancing with Du Yijun, Lu Sui didn’t dance again.
Shen Ting hadn’t moved at all. In Wu Mangmang’s mind, Shen Ting seemed like the type of man who would dance with stiff, awkward movements, as rigid as his expression.
Jiang Baoliang danced two pieces, and his moves were decent, though his belly was a bit too prominent.
“How about a dance with me?” Lu Lin’s voice suddenly sounded beside Wu Mangmang’s ear, interrupting her “public critique” session."I'm not very good at this kind of dance," Wu Mangmang said modestly.
The kind of wild, free-for-all dancing in nightclubs suited her better—in fact, she could even pull off a striptease if needed.
"Then dance something you're good at," Lu Lin said with a smile, clearly not accepting any refusal.
These days, women were even more domineering than overbearing CEOs. Wu Mangmang had to admit she was impressed.
"Don't be modest. You must have learned dance before," Lu Lin added with a grin.
Of course, Wu Mangmang had learned dance.
Growing up in a family like hers, with both parents constantly busy, her weekends were always spent in various extracurricular classes.
Calligraphy, painting, piano, dance—she hadn’t missed a single one.
But Wu Mangmang was only ever interested in the youth martial arts class—it was the only place where she could hit those happy, carefree kids without fear of being scolded.
As for dance, Wu Mangmang preferred passionate and aggressive ballroom styles because she felt their body language always conveyed the same message: Are you as cool as me? Are you as bold as me?
Being both cool and bold—it was pretty thrilling.
Everyone had a bit of boldness in them, after all—it was just a matter of whether it was obvious or hidden.
"I can manage a samba, but I don’t have a partner," Wu Mangmang said, feigning regret.
Samba on the lawn? Lu Lin was momentarily speechless. "I can dance with you," she said, walking over to the musicians and saying a few words. The music promptly switched to a lively samba rhythm.
Now it was Wu Mangmang’s turn to be stunned. She’s really going to dance samba with me on the lawn?
High heels would sink into the grass with every step, and it would be incredibly awkward if they got stuck and couldn’t be pulled out.
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