Chapter 11 Counterfeit Shoes
People in the circle all know that this famous young master of Jinghai City has a cleanliness obsession and never allows anyone to get close to him.
Compared to the philandering young master of the Ji family, everyone is speculating about what kind of person can pluck Duan Mingxiao, this "man-eating flower."
Sitting on the sofa, Luo Qing's gaze, seemingly filled with admiration, involuntarily fell on Duan Mingxiao.
His father is a manager at Yunlan Shuang Company, while he is a former child star and a well-known actor in the entertainment industry.
Luo Qing wore a youthful white shirt, with the typical handsome face of a pretty boy. His eyebrows and eyes were gentle, his chestnut hair was obediently close to his ears, and his nose was high and straight. He was the ideal senior student of countless people at Yenching University.
He had spent some time with this young master when his father took him to the company before.
Duan Mingxiao's looks and physique are even better than some of the top male celebrities in the entertainment industry. Coupled with his top-tier family background in Jinghai City, it's definitely a good deal to marry into his family.
Luo Qing was secretly pleased that Duan Mingxiao had just rejected the female model who had tried to curry favor with her. How could a woman of such low status be worthy of such wishful thinking?
The boy took the initiative to approach Duan Mingxiao with a glass of champagne and invited him to chat.
"Young Master Duan, it's been a long time."
Although Luo Qing is a man, he is very popular in the circle, and many rich young ladies and young men want to date him.
Duan Mingxiao was somewhat unhappy about being disturbed repeatedly after coming out to relax.
He casually glanced at Luo Qing, then looked back at his phone screen with a hint of confusion.
Hearing the deliberately suppressed laughter of the female car models around him, Luo Qing gritted his teeth and almost dropped his wine glass.
These despicable people dared to mock him.
Yun Lanshuang eventually found out about Duan Mingxiao's secret departure from the Duan family.
Yun Lan leaned back on the sofa, pressing her temples, feeling a terrible headache. Butler Chen then explained in detail what had happened to Duan Mingxiao recently.
"Madam, the manager at Liujin said he saw the eldest young master tonight."
Liujin? Her troublesome son has gone off to race cars again.
When Yun Lanshuang learned that Duan Mingxiao had finally managed to keep a nanny by his side to take care of him, she finally sighed and asked Butler Chen to call Cong Chun over.
Yun Lanshuang's gaze fell on Cong Chun. This child was very likable, and he sounded much more sensible than her own filial son.
The woman troubled Cong Chun with one thing: she wanted him to bring Duan Mingxiao back.
Cong Chun couldn't very well refuse, so he could only explain to Yun Lanshuang that he would try his best.
Immediately afterwards, Cong Chun was driven by the Duan family's driver to the entrance of the Liujin Club.
Upon receiving instructions from Yun Lanshuang, the general manager of Liujin specially escorted Cong Chun to the entrance of the private room.
As the door to the private room opened, the previously lively and noisy sounds suddenly quieted down.
Everyone's eyes instinctively turned to the door. First, they saw Liujin's manager bow politely to everyone, and then Cong Chun walked in somewhat nervously behind him.
Only Duan Mingxiao kept his eyes down, scrolling through the latest news on international racing competitions on his phone, seemingly unconcerned, while Luo Qing stood in front of him with an embarrassed expression.
Ji Ruhui, who was standing to the side, stared wide-eyed when she realized that the boy who came in was Cong Chun.
Why is the Duan family's nanny here? Is she checking up on things?
At this moment, whispers broke out in the private room.
"What is this person wearing on their feet? Spiky sneakers? It's hilarious."
"With Nike so cheap, why would someone buy a counterfeit?"
Cong Chun was a little flustered; these people seemed to be talking about the shoes he was wearing.
Is there something wrong with the shoes on my feet? These shoes were bought by my grandma in town after the college entrance examination. They cost fifty yuan a pair. There was a pattern on the shoes that looked like the checkmarks left by the teacher on the test paper.
Cong Chun entered the private room and looked around, finally spotting Duan Mingxiao sitting on the sofa by the window.
Just as he was about to walk toward Duan Mingxiao, a young man surnamed Qin took the initiative to strike up a conversation with Cong Chun.
"Hey bro, where did you buy those shoes? Send me the link."
As soon as he finished speaking, the group of people around the young master burst into laughter.
"I didn't buy it online; I bought it from a street stall in town."
Cong Chun stopped and turned around to answer the boy in front of her seriously.
When he first came in, the group of people hadn't gotten a good look at him yet. Now, standing in the center under the overhead light, his smooth, dark hair was clean and pure, with each strand clearly defined. His beautiful, deep eyes shone like stars, and his nose was high and straight with graceful lines, like a flower in spring.
When the young master saw Cong Chun's appearance clearly, he blushed instantly, scratched his head, and spoke somewhat haltingly.
"Oh... I see... that's how it is."
Immediately afterwards, under everyone's gaze, Cong Chun walked up to Duan Mingxiao and carefully tugged at his sleeve.
"Young master, can we go home?"
Duan Mingxiao was about to lose his temper. In just one hour, he hadn't even had a chance to sit on the sofa properly when one person after another came up to bother him. This time, they even physically assaulted him. Did they think he had a good temper?
Just as the boy was about to slap Cong Chun's hand away, Duan Mingxiao lifted his eyelids and saw a familiar face.
Instead of slapping him away, Duan Mingxiao grabbed Cong Chun's wrist tightly. His tone was questioning, but his eyes were lifeless.
His large, hot palm easily encircled Cong Chun's wrist, pulling him close.
"Who sent you?"
[It seems he really doesn't want to be separated from me for even a second. Could it be that Stupid Chun has been following us all this way?]
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