People who lie would have their noses grow longer.
She didn’t want that.
If she kept telling such huge lies, wouldn’t her nose grow into something like an elephant’s?
Her little movements didn’t escape Duan Zhuo’s eyes.
Tsk.
Still believing in superstition.
Just praising him once already seemed to wrong her.
But praise was still praise. Duan Zhuo practically grew an invisible tail behind him, raised high, his attitude becoming even more confident. “She already said I’m a good person. Brother, do you have anything else to ask?”
Duan Xingning felt there was something going on between the two of them, yet he couldn’t probe it through words. “Nothing.”
“I was about to ask you—why aren’t you spending time with my future sister-in-law so late at night, wandering around the house instead?” Duan Zhuo countered, the corner of his lips tilting upward.
Duan Xingning himself didn’t know why he had come to An Li’s door. He avoided the main point. “That’s my business. It has nothing to do with you. If there’s nothing else, we should leave.”
It wasn’t appropriate for two brothers to stay so late in a girl’s room.
“Then go ahead. I won’t see you out,” Duan Zhuo replied.
From his tone, it sounded like he didn’t intend to leave.
Duan Xingning didn’t bother arguing. He grabbed his shoulder and dragged him out.
In the morning, after waking up, An Li felt much better than the day before. Her knee didn’t hurt as much anymore.
The medicine Duan Zhuo had applied for her worked quite well.
That made it easier for her to do something.
She was going to steal back the love letter.
That letter should still be in Duan Zhuo’s room.
He had a habit of doing morning workouts, so his room should be empty at this time.
As long as she retrieved the letter, he would have no leverage over her, and she wouldn’t have to be threatened by him anymore.
An Li tiptoed to the corner of the hallway and cautiously peeked out.
Duan Zhuo’s door was wide open. Two maids had just finished cleaning and were coming out.
Perfect.
He really wasn’t in the room.
After the maids left, An Li carefully slipped inside.
His room was extremely simple—black, white, and gray tones, with no unnecessary decorations or clutter.
Duan Zhuo rarely stayed home. Most of the time, he spent nights outside. He didn’t seem attached to home, nor particularly close to his family.
An Li had just opened a suspicious drawer when footsteps suddenly came from the doorway.
Startled, she scrambled into hiding behind the curtains.
Her heart pounded wildly.
If Duan Zhuo caught her, would her life still be safe?
“I left the mop here. My memory is getting worse,” one of the maids said as she walked in, picked up the mop near the door, and left again.
Only after confirming she had gone did An Li let out a breath of relief.
Thankfully, it was just a maid.
She resumed searching through the drawers.
Strange.
Not only could she not find the letter—there was nothing in any of them.
She almost wondered if this was even Duan Zhuo’s room.
A slow voice sounded behind her.
“What are you looking for?”
An Li was rummaging through the eighth drawer, head lowered. “The love letter.”
Duan Zhuo stood behind her, hands in his pockets, watching the girl who was rummaging through his room like a little hamster.
After bending over for so long, she felt slightly lightheaded, her mind slow to react. As she searched, she murmured softly, “Where did he put the letter…”
Duan Zhuo couldn’t hold back anymore. A smile lingered on his lips as he bent down, lowering himself to her level. “Want me to help you look?”
“No, thank you.”
The moment those words left her mouth, her small hands paused slightly.
Her head tilted.
Her body stiffened.
Then she realized something was wrong.
Slowly, she pushed the drawers back in one by one, then slowly stood up, keeping her head down, not daring to look around—wishing she could dig a hole and bury herself.
Duan Zhuo didn’t respond.
Thinking she might slip away unnoticed, she quickened her small steps toward the door.
Just as she reached it, his lazy voice stopped her. “Stop.”
An Li closed her eyes, as if facing a great enemy.
She didn’t dare move.
“Weren’t you looking for the love letter? Why leave?” Duan Zhuo walked toward her slowly, his long legs unhurried, lowering his head with a smile. “Don’t want me to help you find it?”
“N-no, no need…”
“Really no need?” He lifted his hand as if performing a trick. Between his index and middle fingers was the very love letter she had written to Duan Xingning.
An Li’s eyes widened.
No wonder she couldn’t find it—he had been carrying it on him.
She instinctively reached out to grab it, but he reacted faster. She failed to snatch the letter and instead ended up half-falling into his arms.
A soft body pressed against his firm chest.
Taking advantage of the moment, Duan Zhuo wrapped his arms around her, one hand gripping her soft waist. With a turn, he pinned her firmly against the wall.
In just a few seconds, An Li was completely restrained, unable to move. Her cheeks flushed red. “W-what are you doing?”
“Catching a thief,” Duan Zhuo said, lifting the corner of the letter under her delicate chin, his eyes narrowing with a smile. “Tell me, how should I punish you?”
An Li was on the verge of tears. “D-don’t tell your brother about us…”
“So the thing you care about most is that my brother doesn’t find out. Why don’t you think about yourself instead?” Duan Zhuo’s tone dropped, his striking features looking even more dangerously alluring. “What if my punishment is that I want you?”
An Li trembled in fear, a mist forming in her long lashes. “I—I was wrong… I shouldn’t have tried to steal the letter…”
“Why do you want it back so badly?”
“I’m afraid your brother will find out we slept together.”
Duan Zhuo didn’t care. “So what if he finds out? You’re an adult. Sleeping with a man is normal.”
“But… that man is you…” she said, her voice breaking with a sob. “He might think I’ve… fallen.”
“…?”
Wait.
What was she saying?
Sleeping with him meant she had fallen?
Was he really that bad?
Even if he was…
It wasn’t that bad, was it?
“You’ve really offended me now. I’m going to tell my brother right away,” Duan Zhuo said, releasing her and turning to open the door.
But his wrist was grabbed by her two small, soft hands.
The grip wasn’t strong, but it was tight.
Combined with her pitiful expression—
“D-don’t… please…”
“Begging me isn’t just about saying it,” Duan Zhuo said, turning back knowingly.
“Then what do you want?”
“Date me.”
This time, his attitude was firm.
Right in front of her, he took out his phone. “You said I have too many ex-girlfriends. Last night, I deleted all their contacts.”
An Li blinked, confused. “Huh?”
“Look for yourself. There are only men left in my contacts.”
He handed the phone to her.
At a glance, the contact list really was almost empty—and all male avatars.
As if remembering something, Duan Zhuo took the phone back. “Oh wait, there’s still one woman I haven’t deleted.”
An Li paused. “Who?”
“My mom.”
After deleting his mother’s contact, he handed the phone back to her again.
This time, it was completely clean.
She could check however she wanted.
An Li hadn’t expected him to be serious—to take her casual excuse seriously and actually resolve it.
For once, there was genuine sincerity in his usually flirtatious eyes. “So, can you date me now?”
At this point, she really had no choice but to agree.
Otherwise, he would tell Duan Xingning.
An Li bit her lip helplessly. “How long do you want to date?”
Naturally, the longer the better.
“At least a year,” Duan Zhuo answered. A year of dating before marriage—reasonable.
“A year?” An Li looked as if she had heard something astronomical. “No, that’s too long.”
“Then 365 days.”
“…Isn’t that the same as a year?”
“No difference. It just gives me an excuse to be shameless.”
An Li shook her head. “I don’t want to date that long.”
She felt like it would cost her life.
She only wanted to get past the issue of the love letter.
“Then you tell me—how long do you want to date me?” Duan Zhuo handed the decision to her.
After hesitating for a moment, An Li quietly raised one finger.
“That’s still a year, isn’t it?”
“No…”
“Don’t tell me it’s one month.”
“…One day.”