Chapter 61: Why Have Dinner with His Wife?

Zhang Xiluo stood where she was, watching him leave, the corners of her lips curling into a mocking smile. She couldn't even have a proper farewell meal. It seemed she and Li Mingye were never meant to end well.

She contacted Xiao Zhao to pick her up from the villa and take her back to Milan International. The first thing Zhang Xiluo did was change the lock code to her birthday. After a simple bowl of noodles, she went to bed.

The next day at noon, Ouyang Chen called to ask about her health and invited her to an event at his gallery. Thinking of her grand ambitions, she agreed readily, picked out a camel-colored cashmere coat, and had Xiao Zhao drive her to Ouyang Chen’s gallery.

As the year drew to a close, the weather grew colder and snowflakes seemed to fall almost daily. Ouyang Chen’s gallery was set on an old street by a river, the surroundings tranquil and peaceful.

“It’s freezing out here, and you’re dressed so lightly.” Ouyang Chen was waiting at the door. As soon as he saw Zhang Xiluo, he took off his white scarf and wrapped it around her neck. “Most of today’s activities are outdoors. Keep warm.”

“No need…” Zhang Xiluo started to refuse, but a cold wind swept past and she changed her mind. “Thanks.”

Such a gentlemanly, elegant, and considerate man—and Zhou Yao didn’t appreciate him. What a loss.

Ouyang Chen smiled slightly, walking by her side, explaining the environment. The whole area belonged to the Ouyang family; he’d reserved the most artistic old street for his private use, opening the gallery here. He did it not for money or fame, but simply for leisure, staying true to his passion.

Zhang Xiluo’s previous understanding of him was limited to being Li Mingye’s close friend, who, like Li, had fallen in love with the same woman, and who had helped her before she died.

“Ouyang Chen, you’re a strange man,” Zhang Xiluo remarked after getting to know him better.

“How so?”

“I can’t quite say, you’re just… different from everyone else.”

“How do I compare to Li Mingye?” Ouyang Chen suddenly asked, catching Zhang Xiluo off guard. She thought for a few seconds.

“You’re skies apart.” She couldn’t disparage Li Mingye just because she couldn’t have his love. In the business world, he was a king, a conqueror, a force of nature. Ouyang Chen, on the other hand, was a serene sky—empty, always calm and untroubled.

“Heh, that’s a fair assessment.” Ouyang Chen’s eyes glimmered. “Come on, let’s go over there.”

By the end of the event, Zhang Xiluo had gained much; she’d been out of touch for too long, and finally had a chance to reconnect.

To express her gratitude, she invited Ouyang Chen to dinner. Since getting pregnant, her tastes had changed—she craved spicy food. She took him to a Chongqing hotpot restaurant, which was bustling with people. They’d arrived early; otherwise, they’d have had to wait outside for a table.

“You don’t mind eating in a place like this, do you?”

“If the wife of the richest man doesn’t mind, why should I?” Ouyang Chen replied deadpan.

Zhang Xiluo shot him a look. “You know I’m about to get divorced, yet you still tease me.”

“So it’s really happening?”

“He told you?”

Ouyang Chen nodded. When the dishes arrived, he poured her a glass of sour plum juice.

No wonder he’d wanted that farewell meal—he’d already told those around him about the divorce, which meant Zhou Yao knew as well. One less problem for her.

The smell of hotpot made her eager to dive in, and as soon as she tasted it, she felt blissful.

In the midst of her enjoyment, she was interrupted.

“Xiluo, Mr. Ouyang, you’re here too! This hotpot place is new and super delicious.”

Zhou Yao appeared in a white turtleneck sweater, a pink shell flower pinned to her chest, her cheeks rosy—radiating that innocent, sweet look. Li Mingye stood beside her, dressed all in black, cold and ascetic, a perfect contrast to Zhou Yao’s lightness.

What a headache. Even eating hotpot by the street, she had to run into them.

Zhang Xiluo had no intention of interacting; she kept her head down and ate quickly, only to choke on the chili from eating too fast.

“Cough, cough, cough.”

“Drink some water, slow down.” Ouyang Chen poured her another glass. “If you can’t handle spicy food, don’t force it.”

Zhang Xiluo took a few gulps, recovered, and thanked him.

“Ouyang, why are you having dinner with her?” Zhao Chengyi squeezed in from behind, eyeing Ouyang Chen in surprise before glancing at Li Mingye. “She’s Li’s wife—since when did you two get so close?”

People always said Zhao Chengyi was a bit dense—Zhang Xiluo now believed it. In one sentence, he’d created a great deal of trouble.

“Shut up and get lost,” Li Mingye said coldly, after which he shot Ouyang Chen a deep look and walked past Zhang Xiluo without a word.

Once again, Zhang Xiluo had been ignored by him—dodging a bullet.

Zhou Yao still wore her sweet smile. She turned to Ouyang Chen, “Mr. Ouyang, we’ll go ahead. You and Xiluo enjoy your meal.”

“Mm.” Ouyang Chen didn’t even look up, his face expressionless.

Zhang Xiluo was puzzled. Had her advice really worked? Had Ouyang Chen truly not fallen for Zhou Yao?

No, she didn’t wield that kind of influence. Perhaps the time just hadn’t come yet; after all, in her previous life, it wasn’t until she’d lost almost everything that she learned Ouyang Chen also loved Zhou Yao deeply.

“Eat.” Ouyang Chen, seeing her lost in thought, placed a shrimp ball in her bowl.

“Do you guys often come to places like this?” Zhang Xiluo blew on the shrimp ball and asked in a low voice.

“We? You mean me and Li Mingye?”

Zhang Xiluo rolled her eyes. Here came the feigned ignorance again.

“After meeting Zhou Yao, we came often.” Ouyang Chen watched her reaction. “If you can’t let go, don’t force yourself.”

“Who says I can’t let go? I’m just curious.” Zhang Xiluo retorted.

She couldn’t shake the feeling of a chill at her back; glancing over her shoulder, she met Li Mingye’s icy gaze.

Damn it, why was he glaring at her with such a predatory look?

Her appetite vanished instantly. Seeing that Ouyang Chen had also stopped eating, she suggested they leave.

“I’ll take you home—Qinyuan or somewhere else?” As soon as they stepped outside, Ouyang Chen handed her his gloves. “It’s even colder at night, and you’re dressed too lightly.”

Fresh from the hotpot, she’d felt warm, but once outside, the chill hit her. She took the gloves. “Thank you. Not Qinyuan—take me to Milan International.”

“All right.” He walked ahead to get the car, and she followed.

At the shop next door, two half-grown boys were having a snowball fight, running and laughing as snowballs flew.

Watching them, then glancing at the piles of snow on the ground, Zhang Xiluo was suddenly in the mood for mischief. She quietly scooped up some snow and shaped it into a ball.

“Ouyang Chen.”

“Yes?”

Just as Ouyang Chen turned, she hurled the snowball at him, striking him squarely in the chest.

“Haha! You’re so slow, you couldn’t dodge it.” Zhang Xiluo laughed heartily, and Ouyang Chen’s face relaxed into a rare smile.

“Try again and I’ll dodge it this time.”

“All right.” Zhang Xiluo scooped more snow, made a ball, then added more until it was quite large. “I’m throwing it—if you get hurt, it’s not my fault!”

She threw it hard; this time, Ouyang Chen dodged to the side, and the snowball sailed past him—hitting someone standing behind him…