Chapter Twelve

The Champs-Élysées was lined with companies from all over the world, movie theaters, luxury retailers, and high-end fashion boutiques. The Gothic architecture reflected the highest artistic achievements of France. Rong Qing leaned against the transparent glass display, her large, dark eyes fixated on the row of watches arrayed before her. She couldn’t help but picture Huo Ling Tian at work, that earnest look on his face, and the elegant silver watch on his wrist, studded with precious blue sapphires—its value surely considerable.

She sighed. Buying a single watch would consume most of her savings. “Please let me see this one,” she said.

Rong Qing took the black crocodile leather watch in her hands, the blue crystal on its dial sparkling even more brilliantly under the lights. The entire design was simple and refined, perfect for a man at work.

She clenched her teeth. Huo Ling Tian was her benefactor now; wasn’t it her duty to please him? Besides, he treated her well. A small gift like this shouldn’t be too difficult, she comforted herself.

“Wrap it up for me.” With a beep, her credit card swept away most of her funds.

As Rong Qing left the watch shop, a man suddenly rushed out from behind and crashed into her. She steadied herself, her expression changing instantly.

“My watch!” Without thinking, she immediately dashed after him. The man had snatched her shoulder bag.

On the famous avenue in France, a stunning girl chased after a thief. The man shot a furious glare at the relentless woman pursuing him. Everyone shopping on the Champs-Élysées was wealthy and influential; who would care about such a trivial thing? Yet the woman behind him refused to give up.

“Ah!” After all, she was wearing high heels—completely unsuitable for chasing someone. At a turn, she lost her balance and fell by the roadside. The fallen girl’s eyes burned with defiance as she glared viciously at the fleeing figure.

“Huo Ling Tian, you pig!” At that moment, Rong Qing resembled a sulking child, venting her frustration by flinging her crooked shoe at the thief’s retreating back.

The man running ahead suddenly collapsed.

“No way, did I hit him?” Rong Qing’s beautiful eyes widened in surprise and delight.

The man who had fallen tried to get up, but was knocked flat again by a punch from another man, leaving him completely defeated.

A man over six feet tall picked up Rong Qing’s bag. Sunlight bathed the blond, blue-eyed foreigner, lending him an almost sacred air. He walked toward her, his strong nose and sharply defined features accentuated by chestnut hair swept upward. His proportions were perfect, and as he approached, she noticed his eyes were a deep blue.

“Making a lady in eight-centimeter heels chase after someone is certainly not the way of French gentlemen,” the man said in fluent Mandarin, though the tone was a little odd.

“Chinese women are no less than men,” Rong Qing replied helplessly, glancing at her broken heel. “But the shoes are a bit inconvenient.”

A soft laugh escaped the man’s lips, making his handsome face even more captivating. He reached out and helped the girl sitting on the ground to her feet. It had been a long time since he’d met someone so interesting; his deep blue eyes narrowed slightly, carrying a hint of intrigue.

“Ouch,” Rong Qing muttered, distracted from her pursuit, only now noticing her elbow was scraped and bleeding. Her shoe was ruined, and she looked utterly disheveled.

The tall man beside her frowned slightly, his broad palm wrapping around her waist, his other hand supporting her. An unfamiliar masculine aura enveloped her instantly.

“You…”

“You’re hurt. My car is just nearby. I’ll take you to the hospital,” he said, ignoring her protest and guiding her to his sports car.

A bright Lamborghini was parked on the roadside—so ostentatious! Faced with Rong Qing’s strange look, the man awkwardly touched his nose. For the first time, he doubted his own taste.

The car sped swiftly but smoothly. Halfway there, the man left her in the car, and shortly returned from a shop with a new pair of shoes for her. The size and style fit perfectly.

“Thank you,” Rong Qing said softly.

They arrived at the nearest hospital, where her arm was cleaned and bandaged. Though the injury wasn’t serious, she wouldn't be able to wear short sleeves for a while.

After the bandaging, the man took a phone call. When he finished, he looked at Rong Qing apologetically.

“You have things to do. Go ahead; my assistant will be here soon. Thank you for today,” Rong Qing resumed her usual polite demeanor.

The man said nothing more, gazing deeply at her before offering a few words of advice and leaving.

Yan Lin arrived at the hospital soon after the man left. Seeing the woman’s swollen arm and her almost triumphant silly grin, he felt he’d gained a new understanding of her. The road ahead would be long and arduous…

Outside, the man’s face darkened as a voice roared through the phone pressed to his ear.

“You’d better have something important to say.” The melodious French sounded especially cold, as if the man was annoyed at being interrupted.

“Aaron, you forgot your appointment this afternoon with Master David. He’s waiting for you in your studio.” The other party sounded ingratiating, knowing that Aaron was more susceptible to gentleness than force, which made him all the more nervous.

“Let the old man wait,” Aaron replied indifferently, his arrogance starkly contrasting with the elegant gentleman who’d just aided Rong Qing.

“My god, boss, don’t joke like that…”

The Lamborghini’s powerful engine roared, shooting forward like an arrow released from the bow.

—End of Chapter—

Collect, collect, collect, collect, collect, collect, collect! Lanlan says please collect!