C1 The Target Was Not the Prince but Director Wang

Kang City, Hibiscus Garden.

At first glance, you might think it's a serene retreat with elegant bamboo groves and graceful bridges, or at least a place for cultured leisure. Who would guess it's actually an entertainment club?

Men and women, arm in arm, whispering sweet nothings. The sultry strains of "One Night" fill the air.

Joanne wore a simple, elegant cheongsam, her long hair pinned up, her delicate oval face lightly touched with makeup, and no jewelry to distract from her scholarly grace. She seemed like a pure white lotus misplaced in a world of neon and noise, a striking visual contrast.

Passersby couldn't help but steal a glance.

In a seemingly deserted hallway corner, Joanne leaned lazily against the wall, her slender hand retrieving a phone from her bag. She dialed...

"Next time, can we be more realistic? I feel like an idiot in this cheongsam."

"Alright, alright, it's not your fault. With a name like this, who wouldn't be confused?"

"The target? Oh, it's not some prince... it's Director Wang."

Joanne's voice was like pearls falling on a jade plate, yet her tone was playfully irreverent. She hung up, adjusted her cheongsam, and gracefully walked out.

Around the corner, under dim lighting, stood two men with an air of distinction.

One was reserved and dignified, the other lively and handsome.

"Did you hear that? They say you're out of your mind," Faang Ziyu exhaled a puff of smoke, his narrow eyes filled with teasing.

The other man lingered in the dim light, his features sharp as if carved from stone. A pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched on his strong nose, and his long fingers held a cigarette, hanging by his side as if lost in thought.

"Your nephew needs some discipline. He's turning a decent place into chaos, and these women keep throwing themselves at him," Faang Ziyu added.

"Let's go." The man, who had been silent with downcast eyes, suddenly looked up and extinguished his cigarette. His deep voice carried a clear indifference.

VIP Lounge.

Joan pushed open the door, her slender hand knocking firmly on it.

The room full of men and women fell silent upon seeing her.

"Well, if it isn't Miss Joan. What brings you here? Chasing after our young Director Wang?" a tall, burly man remarked with a smirk.

The room erupted in laughter.

Joan was a well-known figure in the city, from a prominent family, though not in a flattering way. She was an illegitimate child, often referred to as an outsider.

With such a background, she was naturally kept out of the spotlight. If only she had kept a low profile and lived quietly.

Five years ago, she left town under a cloud of scandal, and now she's back, bold as brass, with two kids in tow. The kicker? No one knows who the father is. To the men in town, she's got a reputation, but there's no denying she's got a certain allure.

Take right now, for instance. Qiao Ann is wearing a cheongsam that seems modest at first glance, but it hugs her curves in all the right ways, leaving just enough to the imagination. The men can't get enough of this mix of innocence and allure.

After a few rounds of drinks, the well-dressed men start to show their true colors. "Miss Qiao, you're absolutely stunning!" one exclaims. "Young Director Wang, you're a lucky man..." another chimes in. Through it all, Qiao Ann remains composed, a smile playing on her lips, her eyes teasing.

"Qiao Ann?" calls a young man from the center of the room, one arm around a woman, the other holding a crystal glass. His eyes are half-closed, clearly having had more than a few drinks. This is Wang Hee, known as Young Director Wang, and he's her target for the evening.

Qiao Ann's eyes sparkle with mischief as she moves toward him, her hips swaying with a grace that seems almost otherworldly. The high slit of her cheongsam reveals long, elegant legs with each step, and the men can't tear their eyes away.

She settles in next to Wang Hee, playfully chiding, "Director Wang, you were hard to find."

Wang Hee's gaze landed on Qiao Ann's face, and he suddenly grabbed her chin. "Finding this place, Miss Qiao, I'm impressed."

"Well, since you're here, my heart just followed," she replied.

"Touching. Almost makes me believe it. Have you thought it through?"

Qiao Ann's eyes sparkled as she traced Wang Hee's collar with her fingertip, her voice sweet and teasing. "How about a change of scenery?"

The men watching immediately started to egg them on.

"Oh, do we seem like we're in the way?"

One of the men pointed to the inner room with a mischievous grin. "There, go ahead and enjoy yourselves."

Qiao Ann's expression didn't change, but she cursed silently. Damn it!

Wang Hee, a rich playboy who'd done his share of wild things, was spurred on by the crowd and the alcohol. He pulled Qiao Ann up and pushed her into the inner room, separated only by a screen, pinning her against the round table.

The sound of fabric tearing echoed as the buttons on her dress came undone, revealing a pale shoulder.

Their intertwined shadows on the screen were as vivid as a scene from a risqué painting.

Qiao Ann heard the men's raucous laughter and teasing.

"Director Wang, aren't you being a bit hasty?" Qiao Ann's voice was soft, but her grip on Wang Hee's neck was firm and unyielding.

Wang Hee, reeking of alcohol, squinted his eyes. Even with the drink, he was still aware.

The woman seemed to be chasing after him, but in reality, she was fiercely independent. His past experiences told him that being forceful with her would never work.

Wang Hee spoke up, "What you want to know..."

Suddenly, he sprang away from Ann.

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the chorus of people outside calling out, "Director Mo!"

Ann looked puzzled and incredibly frustrated. Who was this Director Mo? What was his deal?