Chapter 18: Riding the Wave of Success.

Bai Huang is a well-known wealthy man.

Back in freshman year, Bai Huang had already been the pampered rich kid of the dorm.
He barely attended classes, kept several sharp little suits hanging on the rack,
sprayed cologne and styled his hair with wax at night, grabbed his car keys, and went out to party—
pure playboy energy, all show and swagger.

Lu Hang had always found it strange—
given how loaded his family was—why Bai Huang chose to live in a shitty school dorm like a dog kennel.

Later, from drunken ramblings between the lines, Lu Hang pieced it together:
the guy had a bad relationship with his family.
Apparently controlled and micromanaged since childhood,
he finally rebelled in college—picked a trash-tier university on purpose,
chose the worst dorm on purpose,
and ended up rooming with Lu Hang and the others.

At first, Lu Hang thought Bai Huang was arrogant and hard to get along with.
But later he realized:
as long as you tolerated his few little flaws,
he was the type to go through fire and water for you.
After half a semester of getting close, Bai Huang asked Lu Hang more than once if he wanted to sneak out at night for drinks and fun.
Lu Hang always turned him down.

So when Lu Hang finally said—out loud—that he wanted to go drinking tonight,
Bai Huang was visibly excited.

Probably because his brother had finally agreed to go wild with him.

They first took a cab to a garage in the city center and picked up a brand-new Lamborghini.
The body was bright yellow.
When Lu Hang got in, he was already nervous:
“One scratch on this—how much?”

Bai Huang waved it off:
“Been sitting here for a year, barely driven.
If you scratch it, just get a new one.”

Staring at the unfamiliar center console, Lu Hang felt completely out of place.
First time in a convertible supercar.
He touched the luxurious interior and asked:
“When you came to see me before, what was that Audi or BMW you drove?
Why not take that one?”

“Which one? The Maybach or the Audi?”
Bai Huang said indifferently:
“Anyway, who drives an Audi to go drinking?
Those girls only care about money.
If they see you pull up in a junker, service drops three levels.
When you go to those places, if you can drive something nice—drive something nice.”

Judging women like this, Bai Huang lit up the moment she sat behind the wheel—
clearly forgetting she was now a little sister herself.

Lu Hang never knew going to a bar required dressing up.
Along the way she sent a WeChat, and someone delivered a full white suit with black shirt.
She changed in the parking lot.
Paired with her current appearance, she actually looked dashing.
Back when she was a guy, clothes made the man.
Now as a girl, Lu Hang suddenly wondered if she should put some effort into makeup.
Bai Huang stared into the rearview mirror, doubtful:
“Bro, should I buy some cosmetics?”

The words “Why the hell would a man wear makeup” nearly slipped out.

But when he turned to look—
those narrow phoenix eyes dotted with a tear mole,
D-cup chest straining the shirt,
that refined oval face—
Lu Hang was speechless for a second.
A bit of light makeup would look stunning on her,
especially that soul-stealing tear mole.
But staring at her profile, he felt he had no right to suggest it:
“Buy some if you want. Up to you.”

She stared into the mirror a moment longer,
but in the end her male instincts won.
She found some moisturizer in the center console, rubbed it on,
and called it done.

“Hang-ge, let’s roll.”
She blinked, one hand on the wheel:
“Seatbelt on?”

Lu Hang sighed and buckled up helplessly:
“Just don’t speed.”

Bai Huang laughed wildly:
“Then you’d better beg me.”

As she drove, one arm rested casually on the open door.
Her slightly messy hair flew behind her.
If she were still a guy, this would be the picture of youthful arrogance—horse galloping in spring wind.
For a moment, it felt nothing like the past half-month.
She’d been cohabiting at his place for almost half a month now;
Lu Hang had almost forgotten this person—who shrank behind him when going out,
who silently paid bills—was actually a rich kid.

Now, back in her element—supercar, drinking, going out to play—
her old domineering swagger had returned.

He’d gotten used to the slightly messy, slightly vulnerable little sister at home.

Lu Hang realized this was the real Bai Huang.

The engine roared toward the city center.
The brutal sound shook the whole street, drawing stares from all sides.

Bai Huang drove one-handed, elbow propped on the door in peak show-off mode, and said lightly:
“Actually, I used to drive this car to school.”

“Why’d you stop?”
Lu Hang gripped the seatbelt.

“Got called in by the school for a talk.
Said it was too flashy, bad influence.
So I switched to the Maybach.”

“That’s still a luxury car,” Lu Hang said helplessly.

“At least it looks low-key.”
Bai Huang kept her eyes on the road:
“People judge by appearances.
They don’t really care about the price—
they care if you’re showing off.
Even if I rode a ghost bike to school, they’d still call me in…
Humans are all like this.
They shoot the tallest bird.
When they realize they can’t beat it, they run over and tell you to keep your head down.”

Lu Hang didn’t know how to respond, so he just nodded along.

“I haven’t booked the nightclub spot yet.
Let me secure a table first.”
Bai Huang tapped her phone a few times and made a WeChat call:
“Hey, Mama Zhang?”

“…Who is this?”
The other side sounded confused:
“Pretty voice… this is Young Master Bai’s WeChat, right?”

Bai Huang paused, then realized her voice was different now—crisp and feminine.
She said:
“You know Bai Huang?”

“Of course I know Young Master Bai.”

“I’m Bai Huang’s sister.”
Bai Huang said casually:
“I’m bringing a friend tonight.
My brother recommended this place.
Set it up the same way he likes.”

Mama Zhang was obviously puzzled for a second,
but people in this line of work were sharp—
no point offending anyone.
She immediately switched to fawning agreement.

Lu Hang listened on speaker, a little worried:
“You sure saying you’re Bai Huang’s sister works?
Weren’t you a regular?
Do they even know if he has a sister?”

“Who cares?
Out here, identity is whatever you say it is.
They recognize money, not people.
If I said I was Bai Huang’s grandma and could pay for the whole night,
they wouldn’t care who I claimed to be.
That’s what money does.”
Bai Huang leaned back lazily, eyes on the road.

Streetlights flashed across her face from time to time.
The wind blew through her hair.
For some reason, she suddenly said softly:
“Hang-ge, everyone out here only recognizes money.”

“In this world—except for you—
everyone’s like that.”