Chapter 1725: Beiping Old Dream: Beauty Performer Overpowers the Big Shot 40

Hey little ancestor, who pissed you off again? You were fine after finishing the show, why are you throwing a tantrum?

The class monitor heard that Jin Chen was angry backstage, and panicked, rushing over to check the situation.

Jin Chen is now the living signboard of Weiyang Xiyuan! Countless fans come just for him—he alone can support the theater's business and fame.

"Nonsense, who's throwing a tantrum?" Jin Chen changed out of his costume, his face still wet with snowflower cream, glancing sideways, his brows and eyes shimmering with early summer's luster.

"You say you didn't lose your temper, but look at these broken plates on the floor… alright, alright, if you say there's none, then there's none."

The class monitor quickly shifted tone, probing: "It's pouring outside—could it be that Mr. Pei didn't come to pick you up?"

Jin Chen: "……"

He glanced askance, his tone dangerous: "All this talk—next week you'll be on stage singing."

The class monitor, up in years, turned green then white from being choked by those words, realizing he'd hit the mark.

If anyone could really upset this little ancestor, it'd only be Mr. Pei, right?

It's also strange—whoever climbs to wealth and status becomes this spoiled, always fearing abandonment.

Only this spoiled, pampered capital.

Then I won't say more—hurry back in this rain, don't keep Mr. Pei waiting.

The class monitor even had someone hold an umbrella and personally escorted Jin Chen to the theater's back door, where the Pei family's car was waiting.

Jin Chen plopped into the back seat and asked the driver, "Where is the master today?"

Wasn't today supposed to be our date? I have such a big wife!

The driver turned and said, "The master is discussing matters at Yannan Pavilion; he told you to go back first."

"Yannan Pavilion……"

Jin Chen thought, then looked at the heavy rain outside, and said, "Just go there directly."

Who knows if there's any Xiao Yaojing inside.

【Hey, who could out‑mischief you?】

【……】

"But master…… alright, Mr. Jin." The poor‑wretch driver could only agree.

Anyway, even if the master gets angry, Mr. Jin can still be coaxed.

But if Mr. Jin returns to the old residence and doesn't wait for the master, then it won't be easy to appease him.

Yannan Pavilion is a newly opened song‑and‑dance hall; although it's not as bustling and colorful as Shanghai, it still has its own charm.

Many big bosses now like to discuss matters in its private rooms, where they can drink foreign liquor and see different performances.

But this clearly does not include Pei Yinnian.

The hall's clamor gives him a headache, and on top of that it's a rainstorm, inexplicably making people feel gloomy.

These past few days he's been overworked; every time he goes home Jin Chen falls asleep, and for two days they haven't properly spent time together.

And the reason for his busyness is nothing else but the British Garrison's ever‑tightening repression—the Chamber of Commerce members can't bear it, and they lament lacking an effective way to stop it.

"Mr. Pei, you really ought to try this foreign concoction—it's said to taste better than champagne or red wine, and it doesn't get you drunk."

The boss of the gathering had the sharp‑eyed wine seller at the private‑room door bring over a bottle, saying, "Quick, pour a cup for Mr. Pei to try."

"Sure."

The wine seller laughed as he approached, wearing a cute, delicate European‑style dress—nothing as formal and stuffy as a suit—making heads turn.

He half‑knelt beside Pei Yinnian, pouring the wine, looked up and asked, "How's Mr. Pei's drinking capacity?"

It sounds perfectly proper, but with the hall's noisy performance drifting in, it somehow sounds like something else.

"A normal amount is fine." Pei Yinnian didn't even open his eyes to look at him, thus missing the young man's hidden meaning.

"Mr. Pei, I've got something good here that doesn't involve drinking."

The young man acted coquettish, sitting beside Pei Yinnian, taking a pipe from behind the sofa, and said, "You see everyone likes it—why don't you give it a try?"

His voice was soft and boneless as he lounged on the sofa; he was well‑behaved enough not to lean on Pei Yinnian without permission.

Pei Yinnian glanced at the pipe in his hand and said in a cold tone, "Opium?"

Pei Yinnian's tone turned icy; he glanced at Yun Cunxuan and signaled with his eyes.

"Look what you're saying—those bosses are all called 'living immortals,' go on… try it… ah!"

The young man was shoved by Yun Cunxuan, fell painfully to the ground, stared up in shock, tears already welling in his eyes.

"No matter if it's a living immortal or a dead Yama, just get rid of it quick."

Yun Cunxuan, quick‑eyed and quick‑handed, guarded Pei Yinnian's side, kicked the table leg and shouted, "Who brought this person in? Don't you know our rules?"

The boss inside the private room felt a bit embarrassed and explained, "He… just arrived, doesn't know any better; besides, it's no big deal—Mr. Pei, why not give it a try?"

"Since we want to cooperate with Mr. Pei, we must abide by the Chamber of Commerce's rules."

Pei Yinnian's aura turned stern: "There won't be a next time."

"…… yes, yes."

It was just then that Jin Chen pushed the door open and entered the outer room.

Outside the private room, among the guards were Chamber of Commerce enforcers; naturally they didn't dare stop Jin Chen—it was clear sailing.

"Who are you? Who let you in?"

The boss who had just been fuming at Pei Yinnian's place instantly flared up, as if he'd finally found a vent to shout, "Outsiders aren't allowed in—get out!"

Jin Chen narrowed his cold eyes and said, "You're crazy."

"What are you yelling for? You'll scare people to death."

Behind him, the attendant nervously pointed to a room separated by a screen and whispered, "Boss, this person looks like a performer from Weiyang, and he's with Mr. Pei."

Jin Chen, wearing a heavy coat, exuded a strong presence; under the bright, splendid lights he looked even more noble. Hearing this, the boss narrowed his eyes and snorted, "So it's him—I'll see how I teach him a lesson when we get back."

I don't believe anyone could resist the power of opium.

Jin Chen watched warily as the foul‑mouthed mutt came over, indiscriminately cursing, and then heard him spout a bunch of gibberish.

Then he caught the key word.

What the hell, opium!

Jin Chen abruptly stepped back and kicked the salesman away.

"Get lost!"

"Filthy thing!"

"My wife hates this stuff, and you dare use it on me!"

Jin Chen threw a few punches, stopped when the bodyguard rushed over, then, clutching his coat, went to the inner room of the private booth.

"Honey..."

A tone of desolate resentment silenced the whole private booth for a few seconds, and everyone looked over in surprise.

Yun Cunxuan nearly spat out a mouthful of wine, gazing at Pei Yinnian in astonishment and doubt.

No way, it's supposed to be his brother!... Is it this exciting?

Pei Yinnian: "……"

He didn't bother with what Jin Chen called him here, only seeing Jin Chen's aggrieved look, he reached out his hand to the approaching Jin Chen.

"How come you came over? Weren't you supposed to go home first?"

He let Jin Chen lean on his shoulder and coaxed, "I'm done here, just about to head home."

【Oh ho, the Main God really forgot the date!】 Ling Gun Gun watched as if it were a show.

Jin Chen instantly looked dejected, as if automatically blocking out everyone in the room, "Those people outside are forcing me to smoke opium, it's terrifying."

He almost got beaten to death.

"Hey, wait a moment," Jin Chen grabbed Pei Yinnian who was trying to get up, feeling even more dejected than before.

"This isn't the point, brother forgot our date today."

Pei Yinnian blinked, "Today is……"

He hadn't finished speaking when he realized he had mistaken the date, thinking there were still two days left.

The youth's aggrieved look was truly pitiful; Pei Yinnian vexedly frowned and didn't linger, letting others see him leave.

"Let's talk in the car," Pei Yinnian took Jin Chen's hand, his tone as gentle as possible.

The little boy guarding the private booth door rubbed his still‑aching lower back and muttered, "This person's fate is truly different."