An Ruo made a simple meal and brought it upstairs. The man was leaning against the headboard, quietly waiting for her, until a rich aroma filled the air.
"The servants are all asleep. I didn't know what to make for you, so just make do, okay?" Afraid he might lose his temper and flip the table again, An Ruo coaxed softly, "I'll come back early tomorrow and bring you something delicious to make up for today's mistake, alright?"
Men needed coaxing too, especially Shen Xiaoxing, who yielded to softness but not hardness.
Seeing that he didn't refuse, An Ruo blew on the wonton in the spoon and brought it to his lips.
"It's not hot anymore. Try it."
Shen Xiaoxing looked at her gentle face; the anger in his heart had long vanished without a trace. His stubbornness until now was just his inherent pride acting up.
He obediently cooperated as the girl fed him. During that time, aside from the sound of the spoon stirring, the room was eerily quiet. Neither of them broke the harmonious atmosphere.
After attending to Shen Xiaoxing's late-night snack, An Ruo, while bathing, inadvertently thought of the man who had saved her at the banquet. She didn't even know his name, and he had run off before treating the wound on his forehead—how puzzling.
The night was silent. An Ruo pulled the blanket tighter around herself, but suddenly felt a tightness at her waist. Before she could speak, her back pressed against the man's strong chest.
Their relationship had been surprisingly good lately. She no longer sleepwalked at night, and in the mornings, she wasn't lying on top of him—all thanks to the man holding her as they slept.
They were married in name only. At first, they kept a respectful distance, which she thought was great. But now, as the man drew closer to her, her heart felt increasingly unsettled.
Lost in thought, An Ruo drifted into a deep sleep, turning over to nestle in the man's arms.
Under the dim wall lamp, the man's burning gaze fixed on the person in his arms. Watching her slightly trembling lips, he inexplicably leaned in slowly...
When their lips were just a few centimeters apart, he forcefully restrained his greed, forcing his mind to sober up.
Soft fragrance in his arms, yet he could only play the role of a steadfast gentleman.
-
Shen Family Old Estate, Ming Garden.
At the indoor golf course, Shen Tingfeng, dressed in a white sportswear, swung his club with confidence, but not a single ball on the grass went in.
His expression was terrible, and he wanted to curse.
"Second Young Master, Dr. He has arrived."
He Su stepped onto the course. Shen Tingfeng tilted his head to signal the butler to set up the balls, stubbornly taking another swing. The ball seemed to defy him, refusing to go into the hole.
He suddenly spoke up: "How's that bastard doing lately?"
He Su, with one hand in his pocket and a striking head of green hair, replied arrogantly: "Just as you expected, Second Young Master. His organs are showing clear signs of decline."
Shen Tingfeng took a towel to wipe his sweat: "That drug is no joke. A normal person would react after two days. Why has he lasted so long?"
"Maybe his constitution is much better than we thought."
Shen Tingfeng sneered. He Su's tone was indifferent: "Otherwise, with all the dirty tricks you've pulled, Second Young Master, how is he still bouncing around?"
The words seemed to remind Shen Tingfeng, completely killing his mood for golf. With a cold laugh, he suddenly pointed the club at He Su.
"That's right. I've got plenty of dirty tricks. Anyone who dares to oppose me, or is about to oppose me, or wants to betray me—none of them will end well."
He Su gave a faint smile.
"Your efficiency lately has been low. Don't make me start doubting you."
He Su narrowed his eyes slightly, then suddenly grabbed the club from his hand, bent down, swung at the ball on the grass, and sank it in one shot.
Shen Tingfeng glanced at him, clapping with a smile: "Nice!"
The butler brought a bottle of pills. Shen Tingfeng sat in the lounge area drinking tea.
He Su looked at the bottle: "What's this?"
Shen Tingfeng lounged back in his chair, raising an eyebrow: "Something that can make Shen Xiaoxing's line come to an end."
He Su's face remained expressionless, but inwardly he cursed Shen Tingfeng from head to toe.
What a despicable bastard. Only someone like him could come up with such a vile, underhanded scheme.
"Since the old man acknowledged that bastard, he could acknowledge his offspring too. I don't want any more changes to my position as heir."
He Su nodded: "So you want to make sure he leaves no offspring in this world before he dies?"
Shen Tingfeng squinted at him. His silence was an admission of the guess.
He Su took the bottle: "If I help you achieve your goal this time, Second Young Master, how much will you give me?"
Shen Tingfeng crooked his finger, and the butler brought over a suitcase. With a click, it popped open, revealing a neatly stacked pile of cash inside.
"A million here. Consider it pocket money. After it's done, you name the price, and I'll pay it."
He Su picked up a stack, raised an eyebrow, and put on a greedy expression: "Deal."
The butler carried the suitcase to personally see He Su out. As they passed through the courtyard, a sharp pain hit the back of his head.
He Su, hot-tempered, looked up and saw Shen Xingrou, dressed demurely not far away, holding a slingshot—clearly the culprit.
"What the hell..." He Su held back the rest of his curse. Seeing that the offender was just a kid, he decided not to bother with her.
But just a few steps later, another hit struck his arm.
He was furious now. The butler tried to calm him down with an apology: "Dr. He, please don't be upset. Our Third Miss might have accidentally hit you..."
Before he could finish, another stone flew over. He Su dodged, but the butler wasn't so lucky—it hit him right on the forehead!
He clutched his head, yelping in pain.