Shen Zhou, displeased, gave Zhou Zilang a kick under the table.
Zhou Zilang frowned. “What was that for?”
Shen Zhou raised his brows. “I’m going home.”
Zhou Zilang snapped back, “Then go! What, you can’t walk alone?”
Xuan Du glanced at him and couldn’t resist teasing. “I’ve known you for so long, but this is the first time I’ve seen you so eager to rush home. What’s the matter—got a girl hidden there?”
Shen Zhou turned, looking down at Wen Ning. “Are you coming or not?”
Before Wen Ning could answer, Zhou Zilang cut in. “What’s the hurry? We haven’t even had time to get to know little sister Wen Ning. If you’re so anxious, go ahead by yourself. You’re grown—still need someone to hold your hand?”
Wen Ning saw Shen Zhou’s face darken, looking like the picture of a wronged man. She quickly stood up, smiling brightly.
“It’s me—I don’t dare go home alone.” She waved to Zhou Zilang and Xuan Du, her dimples showing as she smiled sweetly.
“Another day, I’ll come play with my brothers again.”
“Are you coming or not?” Shen Zhou’s impatient voice rang from ahead. Wen Ning looked up—his figure was tall and straight, his back stubbornly set. She hurried to catch up.
Shen Zhou’s expression was grim, his striking face like a carved coffin lid. He gave Wen Ning a cold glance, his thoughts unreadable. After a few steps, he suddenly stopped and sat down on a stone bench.
Wen Ning blinked. “What’s wrong?”
Shen Zhou: “Tired. Can’t walk anymore.”
Wen Ning: “But… we’ve only walked a few steps.”
For once, Shen Zhou looked embarrassed. He muttered an excuse: “Didn’t sleep well last night.”
Wen Ning suddenly remembered—he had spent the night at Baihua House. A man and a woman alone… of course, he hadn’t slept well. But just one night, and he was too exhausted to walk?
She shook her head, secretly scoffing. *Looks like this heir isn’t all that capable after all.*
Shen Zhou watched her lively expression, and his heart tightened. That soft little face—he wondered how it would feel to pinch.
Wen Ning, ever patient, coaxed him. “Just hold on a little longer. Once we’re home, you can rest.”
Shen Zhou, stubborn as stone: “Can’t hold on. Can’t walk.”
Wen Ning’s face fell. “Then what should we do?”
Shen Zhou: “You’ll help me walk.”
Wen Ning looked at his tall, commanding figure, incredulous.
“M-me? Help you?”
Shen Zhou: “Fine, if you won’t help me, I’ll just rest here until I recover.”
Wen Ning: “How long do you plan to rest?”
Shen Zhou: “Not sure… maybe four or five hours.”
Wen Ning sucked in a sharp breath. Four or five hours, standing with him in the middle of the street—what crime from the *Seven Sins* was she guilty of to deserve this?
Softly, she said, “Why don’t I just help you?”
A faint smile tugged at Shen Zhou’s lips. He rose, slipped a strong arm around Wen Ning’s slender waist, and leaned his full weight against her. His voice carried a teasing lilt. “Then, my lady, you’d better hold me steady.”
Wen Ning hadn’t expected him to press all his weight onto her. He looked lean, but he was heavy—so heavy that if his arm weren’t holding her waist, she would have collapsed.
Annoyance flared. He could clearly walk on his own, yet he chose to bully her instead.
“You’re too heavy,” she muttered with disdain. “You should eat less from now on.”
Shen Zhou’s fingertips brushed her waist—just as soft and yielding as he had imagined.
“It’s you who’s too weak. My lady ought to exercise more.”
Unwilling to concede, Wen Ning reached out and pinched his side. “Too fat, that’s what you are. Look at this flab—”
Wait… what flab? His waist was firm, taut, the lines smooth and powerful. Not an ounce of excess. And the feel… wasn’t bad at all. She squeezed again, just to be sure. Shen Zhou flinched instinctively, his abdominal muscles tightening, the definition even clearer. He lowered his gaze, drawling, “My lady, are you taking advantage of me?”
Wen Ning ducked her head, her pale neck exposed, guilty. “I—I didn’t mean to.”
Her timid look sparked his amusement.
“Wen Ning, lift your head.”
She pretended not to hear, burying her face like an ostrich.
Shen Zhou’s lips curved in a lazy smile. “Shy now? But when you were touching me, you were bold enough.”
Only then did Wen Ning realize her hand was still resting on him. She snatched it back at once, though her gaze lingered, reluctant.
He really did look… quite good.
Shen Zhou caught her sneaking glances, her eyes bright and sparkling, and nearly froze. Who would have thought—his wife was a little lecher.
The thought made him press even more weight onto her.
Wen Ning nearly stumbled, glaring at him furiously. Petty man! Just because she touched him a few times—was this necessary?
Grinding her teeth, she dragged him along a few steps before stopping.
“Which way?” she asked.
Shen Zhou arched a brow. “Haven’t you walked this road before? Don’t tell me you’re directionally challenged.”
Wen Ning shot him a sharp look. He really knew how to hit where it hurt.
Shen Zhou studied her—her fair skin, delicate features, and especially those bright, deer-like eyes. When she pouted, she was even more lively and charming. He recalled Zhou Zilang and the others saying Wen Ning was pretty. They were right. She truly was. Those dark, glistening apricot eyes staring straight at him—what man could resist?
He reached out and tapped her forehead, smiling with mock disdain. “tsk… little road idiot.”
Wen Ning silently vowed: next time her father beat Shen Zhou, she would be right there, handing him the whip. Preferably dipped in salt water.