Chapter Sixty-Seven: Better to Leave

Soon, the sound of running water from the bathroom ceased, and slow footsteps echoed as the door opened once more.

If the previous scene had left Yan Xu utterly stunned, what he saw now made his mouth go dry. Weng Meiling had just finished her shower; droplets of water still trickled down her hair. All she wore was a simple white towel, barely enough to cover her most private parts.

The upper curve of her breasts was clearly visible—pale and tender, reminiscent of freshly made tofu. Below, her long, beautiful legs stretched out from thigh to calf, ending in delicate, bare feet. Her toenails were painted a vivid red, each one like a tiny ruby set into creamy jade.

Oblivious to Yan Xu’s presence, Weng Meiling poured herself a glass of water and walked over to the single armchair opposite him. She dropped into it as if boneless, sprawling back, her legs boldly propped up on the coffee table.

Yan Xu hadn’t expected her to act so naturally. Though the television cast only a faint light, he could still make out, between the towel and her parted legs, a hint of dark hair. The sight nearly made his nose bleed on the spot.

Realizing the situation was about to become untenable, Yan Xu gave a discreet cough to alert her. As much as he appreciated the view, it would be far more awkward if she discovered him on her own.

Startled by his cough, Weng Meiling’s foggy mind cleared in an instant. In the dim glow of the TV, she caught sight of a stranger sitting on the sofa before her. She let out a sharp cry, yanked her legs from the table, and crouched defensively on the armchair, clutching her glass as if preparing to hurl it—pure self-defense.

"Don’t be alarmed, it's just me," Yan Xu quickly rose and turned on the living room light so she could see him clearly.

"You?" Weng Meiling scrutinized him. Fragments of memory flickered through her mind, and she soon recognized the man before her. At the same time, she realized how exposed she was.

With a soft gasp, she clutched the towel tightly to herself and, faster than a gust of wind, bolted into her bedroom. The door slammed shut with a heavy thud.

Yan Xu returned to the sofa, his fatigue entirely dispelled by the recent commotion.

From within her bedroom, the sound of rummaging and drawers opening drifted out. A few moments later, the door opened again—this time quietly, almost timidly.

Weng Meiling emerged, now bundled up in so many layers it seemed absurd—even for outdoors, let alone inside. Just looking at her made Yan Xu feel hot.

"I thought you’d left," she said as she sat down across from him. Though more sober now, the alcohol hadn’t fully left her system; her large eyes were bloodshot, and her cheeks glowed with a flush.

"I was worried you’d drunk too much and something might happen. I planned to leave after you woke up," Yan Xu replied with a smile.

"Thank you for earlier," Weng Meiling said quietly, glancing at him.

"Every time I see you, you’re drinking too much. It doesn’t look good for a young woman, and it’s bad for your health," Yan Xu gently admonished her. "Staggering home late at night, drunk—if something happened, those who care about you would be worried, just like tonight. Luckily, I was here in time."

"Is there really anyone left who cares about me?" Weng Meiling’s expression was tinged with bitterness. "Tonight was just an accident."

"Of course people care about you. You have so many fans, not to mention your mother and uncle in England. Don’t let a breakup turn you into a shadow of yourself," Yan Xu said.

"How did you know I broke up with someone?" Weng Meiling looked at him in surprise.

"You’re a big star. The tabloids are desperate to print every detail about your life. Even if you don’t say it outright, anyone paying attention can figure it out."

"I don’t want to be like this, but I just can’t help myself." Her smile was bitter. She pressed a hand to her temple, wincing from the headache brought on by too much wine.

"It’s only heartbreak. It’s not your first time. Three-legged toads are rare, but three-legged men are everywhere. Just one man—why lament? Find a better one," Yan Xu said with a shrug.

He knew well that Weng Meiling had originally left England for Hong Kong and entered the Miss Hong Kong pageant after breaking up with her then-boyfriend, seeking solace. By a twist of fate, she had stepped into the entertainment world.

"Three-legged men?" Weng Meiling looked at him, puzzled.

"Isn’t it obvious? Two legs on the sides, and one in the middle," Yan Xu gestured with his own legs.

His antics finally drew a genuine laugh from her. She pressed a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking with mirth.

"Most people only feel sad after a breakup. But you—heartbreak plus drinking—it’s hurting both your spirit and your body," Yan Xu continued. "Let me give you some advice: if you feel miserable, go to a nice restaurant and eat to your heart’s content. Good food is always available. Eat your sorrows away—solve your troubles and fill your stomach at the same time."

"If I eat like that, I’ll get fat," she mumbled.

"Then go travel—find some beautiful place, just like you did when you first came to Hong Kong. Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up winning another international crown, become one of the top ten stars in the world, even break into Hollywood and win Best Actress."

"You’re not so young anymore. If you’re going to end it, do it cleanly—turn the page and start a new chapter. Remember, after your breakup in England, it only took a year to find someone new. Out with the old, in with the new. Don’t wear your sadness for the world to see. Life isn’t about mourning the past. Live better, look forward with hope, let everyone see how well you’re doing. Make him envy your life—show him you’re better off without him. Men are like money: you can’t take them with you when you go."

Yan Xu had little experience comforting the heartbroken, but having lived in an age of information overload, words like these came to him easily.

"I’d love to get away for a while, but I have so much work. The company would never allow it," Weng Meiling shook her head. She had long wanted a break—maybe even to quit altogether—but the company refused.

"At this point, who cares what they allow? Even if you stay, you’re in no state to work. Better to take time to recover. What can they do—fire you? Bury your career? That’s their loss. Your contract is up next year; they’ll want to keep you. Hong Kong is a big place. If one company won’t have you, another will. Plenty of companies would pay your penalty fee. Or if you don’t mind, my company could take you on."

"Your company?" Weng Meiling stared at Yan Xu. She knew he was in the industry, but nothing more.

"We’ve known each other so long, but I’ve never formally introduced myself. I’m Yan Xu, a director—and I own two small companies," he said, smiling as he extended his hand.