Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

By the time the car stopped in front of that old hotel in the county, it was completely dark.

Xiao Wang turned off the old Shanghai car and, using the dim light from the doorway, glanced at the dilapidated three-story building where even the plaster was peeling off the walls.

Leung Ka-Chun opened the back door of the car, carrying an exquisitely packaged paper bag containing a bottle of red wine he had brought from Hong Kong.

He bent down to straighten the hem of his trench coat, then turned and spoke into the car.

"You guys go back first."

"Come pick me up in two hours."

Xiao Wang was stunned for a moment, and subconsciously asked: Mr. Liang, it's so dark here, what are you doing in this shabby place?

A hint of impatience flashed in Liang Jiajun's eyes, and he replied indifferently:

"Meeting a friend. An old acquaintance from when I was studying in France. We just happened to be passing by, so we caught up."

Sitting in the passenger seat, A-Kang turned around and glared at Xiao-Wang, letting out a sarcastic laugh.

"Don't ask questions you shouldn't ask. Don't you know the rules?"

"You think you can pry into Mr. Liang's social circle? That's French etiquette, discussing business over coffee. What business is it of yours, a peasant driving a car? Get out of here!"

Xiao Wang was so choked up that his face turned red. He gritted his teeth, could only restart the engine, and stepped on the gas, driving the car into the night.

As the taillights disappeared around the corner, Liang Jiajun turned around, his "decency" instantly turning into an uncontrollable smugness.

There are no old acquaintances from my time studying in France.

This was nothing more than a wonderful "romantic encounter" that he had yesterday at a high-class guesthouse in the county town.

Yesterday evening, Liang Jiajun had just finished praying alone in his luxury suite and opened the door to ask the waiter to bring him a kettle of hot water.

A muffled thud and a woman's scream suddenly came from the corridor.

The woman was wearing a worn-out wool coat with a frayed collar, her face was pale, and her eyes were watery. She was being chased and beaten by a man who reeked of alcohol, who was pulling her hair.

She stumbled and fell right in front of Liang Jiajun's door, desperately grabbing his trouser leg and crying for help.

Leung Ka-Chun has always considered himself a gentleman with French romantic blood flowing through his veins.

Looking at her tear-streaked face, he felt that this was God's will, and immediately pulled the woman into his room and locked the door.

The man outside banged on the door twice, but because the residents of this floor were all high-status foreign guests, he was quickly chased away by the security officer.

Inside the house, the woman immediately threw herself into Liang Jiajun's arms, crying uncontrollably.

Liang Jiajun took the opportunity to embrace the soft body, inhaling the cheap yet strong scent of perfume. His heart burned with desire, but he had to keep a straight face.

"Don't be afraid, I'm here, he can't get in."

The woman lifted her tear-streaked face, her eyes filled with gratitude.

"Mr. Liang, you are such a kind person. If it weren't for you, I might have been beaten to death in the corridor today."

She sat down on the sofa, sobbing, and began to recount her tragic life in fits and starts.

"I have a hard life. I lost my parents when I was young and grew up relying on my grandfather."

"A few years ago, my grandfather fell seriously ill, and my family couldn't even afford to buy medicine. To save my grandfather's life, I had no choice but to agree to marry that man surnamed Wang in the village. I used his dowry money to treat my grandfather's illness, and sold myself."

As the woman spoke, tears streamed down her face again, and her voice became hoarse.

"I thought I would repay my grandfather's kindness and accept any hardship in this life. But who knew that the man surnamed Wang was a complete scoundrel. He would take his anger out on me when he was drunk. My grandfather passed away last year, and I lost my only relative in the world. He became even worse and gambled away the last little thing my grandfather left me before he died. I really can't go on living like this."

Liang Jiajun shook his head as he listened; in his eyes, such stories were a microcosm of barbaric countries.

Instead of feeling sorry for her, he developed a strong sense of superiority, feeling that he was the God who was going to show her the "civilized world".

"Don't talk to yourself like that. This place can't hold you back. If you really want to leave, there's definitely a way."

Liang Jiajun took the woman's hand and gently stroked her rough but warm skin with his fingertips, his tone carrying a hint of deliberate seduction.

"Do you know? On the other side of the sea, in Hong Kong, or even in romantic France, women don't have to suffer like this."

He leaned forward, lowered his voice, and let the scent of tobacco and expensive cologne fill the woman's nostrils.

"There are bright lights everywhere, endless beautiful dresses, and an endless supply of red wine. A beautiful and kind soul like yours should be sitting on the banks of the Seine drinking coffee, not being trampled on in this quagmire."

Seeing the fleeting longing in the woman's eyes, Liang Jiajun felt increasingly smug, and his promises became more and more elaborate.

"If you're willing to come with me, I can help you change your identity. I have plenty of ways to take you away from this backward place and let you see what the real civilized world is like. There, no one will dare to hit you, and you'll live like a queen."

The woman stared at him blankly, as if she had been struck by his words in a daze. Her eyes gradually reddened, and her voice trembled.

"Really? Mr. Liang...you can really take me to a place like that? Can someone as unfortunate as me really go abroad?"

Liang Jiajun's lips twitched slightly, revealing an extremely arrogant smile.

"Of course, for me, it's just a matter of saying one word. The key is that you have to listen to me."

The woman's hands trembled with excitement, as if she had finally made up her mind. She lowered her head and spoke in a voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz.

"Mr. Liang, you've been so kind to me... I really don't know how to repay you. There are too many people and too many eyes around at the guesthouse. If that madman gets back, it might damage your reputation."

She secretly slipped Liang Jiajun a note with the address and room number of the old hotel written on it.

"Mr. Liang, if you don't mind my dirty body, please come over tonight. I have no other skills, I just want to serve you, my great benefactor, well before I leave."

Recalling the woman's tearful gratitude and eagerness to give in on the spot, Liang Jiajun stood at the hotel entrance, feeling as if all the blood in his body rushed to his head.

Take her to France?

Should I take her to Hong Kong?

It's a big joke.

Bringing a mainland village woman who can't even speak English properly to Hong Kong would only embarrass Mr. Leung.

However, enjoying the benefits of this "savior" before leaving and indulging in the so-called French gentleman's fantasy is a good way to unwind.

With that thought in mind, Liang Jiajun straightened his tie, a confident smile spreading across his face, and stepped into the hotel.

He carefully lifted the hem of his trench coat and walked very steadily up the creaking wooden stairs.

Reaching the end of the second-floor corridor, he stopped in front of the innermost wooden door with peeling paint, straightened his hair, his Adam's apple bobbed, and raised his hand to knock on the door.

A soft, almost dripping voice quickly came from behind the door:

"Mr. Liang, you've arrived."