The back seat of the car was utterly quiet.
Outside, the scenery shifted frame by frame. Ji Ying turned her head, staring straight out the window, exposing only the delicate curve of her pale neck. What she didn’t realize was that the dark glass reflected her expression perfectly. All her awkwardness and embarrassment were laid bare to the man beside her.
Ji Ying only wanted to shut down the conversation. Why had she even cared whether he could enter the Ji family’s doors? Somehow, she had tangled herself into his words.
Fu Jingshen had no intention of letting her off. His voice was slow, deliberate. “Yinghua, I heard you.”
Ji Ying pressed her lips together, forcing composure. “Don’t overthink. I didn’t mean that.”
Fu Jingshen’s lips curved faintly. “Which part?”
“Did you mean… letting me in the door?”
Ji Ying almost wanted to cover her ears. She didn’t want to talk to him anymore! Suddenly, her mind recalled Ji Huai’s words— *Cunning, scheming old fox.*
At that moment, her bag vibrated with an incoming call. Ji Ying seized it like salvation, quickly answering.
Yu Wanqing was seated on a luxury store sofa, a sales assistant bowing to pour her coffee. Ji Tianze sat beside her, shopping bags piled at his feet.
“Nannan,” Yu Wanqing admired her freshly manicured nails, “are you home yet?”
Hearing her mother’s voice, Ji Ying’s lashes fluttered. Instinctively, she lifted her eyes toward Fu Jingshen, raising a pale finger to her lips, signaling him to stay silent.
Fu Jingshen arched a brow in surprise, then nodded in agreement.
“I’m almost home,” Ji Ying cleared her throat.
“Almost home? So you’re not home yet?” Yu Wanqing pressed.
Ji Ying’s left fingertips curled tightly. She lowered her head, hesitating before answering softly: “Mm… not yet.”
“Where are you now? Still at the shop?” Yu Wanqing said. “I’ll come pick you up.”
“No!” Ji Ying’s gaze flickered toward Fu Jingshen, her hesitation plain in her eyes. “I’m already on the way…”
Yu Wanqing relaxed. “Alright then, wait at home for me.”
Ji Ying couldn’t refuse, so she answered quietly: “…Okay.”
After hanging up, she kept her head lowered, her eyes unfocused on a single point. “Third Brother, I have to go home.”
Fu Jingshen: “Go home?”
“Is there any reason you *must* go home?”
Ji Ying was silent for a few seconds. “My mother asked me to.”
When she lifted her head, she found the man had leaned closer at some point, his handsome features magnified before her eyes, leaving her nowhere to escape.
Fu Jingshen: “Don’t want to go back?” He reached out, tucking the loose strands of hair behind the girl’s ear, asking softly: “If it’s something you don’t want to do, why not say so?”
His closeness made Ji Ying turn her face aside, her breathing light, long lashes trembling uncontrollably. When she finally spoke, her voice carried a hint of grievance she hadn’t even noticed herself: “But my mother would worry. She always cares about me.”
Fu Jingshen was silent for a moment. His own parents had divorced when he was young, his aunt married far away, and his grandfather never imposed much discipline. He had never experienced this kind of concern.
Lowering his gaze, he looked at her porcelain-like face. Even her worries were beautiful, her features veiled in mist, fragile and exquisite. No wonder the Ji family protected her so carefully.
“Yinghua, unlock your phone and call Auntie.”
Ji Ying froze. “Ah?”
Fu Jingshen took the phone from her hand. “I’ll speak to your mother.”
Ji Ying’s eyes widened. She quickly reached for the phone. “No, you can’t!”
Fu Jingshen: “Why not?”
Her cheeks flushed red. “…How am I supposed to explain being with you right now?”
Fu Jingshen’s long fingers had already pressed the most recent number. Suddenly, he smiled lightly. “Do I need to explain being with you?”
Ji Ying’s lips parted, but no words came out—because Yu Wanqing had already answered the call. How had things turned out like this?
She was dazed, only able to watch Fu Jingshen’s lips move, without hearing what he said to her mother until he hung up and placed the phone back in her hand. “Auntie agreed.”
In truth, Yu Wanqing’s attitude hadn’t been entirely clear. She had accepted mostly out of courtesy and because he had promised to take good care of her.
Ji Ying took the phone and glanced at him silently. Her lips curved, then pressed straight again, before finally curling upward. She turned her face aside, her brows arching as she let out a sudden laugh.
Fu Jingshen hadn’t expected her to laugh. He raised a brow. “Happy now?”
Like a rebellious child finally relieved, Ji Ying covered her face at first, then, after a few seconds, admitted shyly: “I’m happy.”
Just then, the car stopped. Ji Ying turned her head to look outside, her gaze caught by the sight of a detached villa.
Wasn’t this… the Fu residence?
Fu Jingshen saw her thoughts. “This is my private home.”
Ji Ying blinked. “So today it’s just the two of us?”
Fu Jingshen stepped out, opened her door, and asked calmly in return: “Should I have invited a third wheel?”
Ji Ying paused in her movement as she stepped out of the car. So, had she been tricked?
Fu Jingshen leaned forward, bracing one hand on the seat, closing the distance between them. His gaze locked onto her evasive eyes, his posture commanding. “Didn’t you want Cloud Pastry?”
“Oh.” Ji Ying slowly got out of the car, following behind him. Her mind spun—was she really going to a single man’s home like this?
Fu Jingshen owned several private residences, but this lakeside villa had the best view. Of course, he wouldn’t tell Ji Ying yet that this house had another purpose—it was meant to be their marital home, a gift from his grandfather when he came of age.
Unlike the refined elegance of the Ji residence, the Fu villa was grand and classical. Long corridors wound through the space, decorated entirely in traditional Chinese style, refreshing and new to the eye.
Ji Ying entered, brushing her fingers across the delicate porcelain patterns on the screen, her gaze wandering curiously around.
Fu Jingshen was undoing the cuff buttons of his shirt, watching her head turn this way and that.
A servant brought tea and set down the pastries the master chef had prepared earlier. Ji Ying sat properly at the table, her eyes fixed on the freshly made Cloud Pastry. She reached for her chopsticks, but noticing Fu Jingshen hadn’t touched his, she quietly set them down again.
Fu Jingshen caught her small gesture. He lowered his eyes, reached out, and switched on the television. Instantly, the vast villa was filled with background noise. “Perhaps this will make you feel more at ease.”
The variety show’s chatter did ease the silence. The Cloud Pastry was crisp, sweet, with a lingering aftertaste—an extinct flavor brought back to life. Ji Ying’s eyes curved happily as she ate.
Fu Jingshen didn’t like sweets, so he didn’t touch them. Watching the girl’s cheeks puff as she chewed, he couldn’t help but smile inwardly. Truly, she was a little gluttonous cat, lured by a single pastry.
Then, the variety show’s camera shifted—suddenly revealing a familiar handsome face: Ji Huai.
It was a personal highlight reel of her second brother. Ji Ying looked up, meeting his face on the screen, and instantly felt caught red-handed. Even the pastry slipped from her chopsticks.
“Ah!” Ji Ying blurted. “Change the channel!”
Fu Jingshen glanced at the screen and casually switched channels. “You don’t even watch your own brother?”
“He’s watching us…” Ji Ying rested her chin in her hand, then shook her head, answering honestly: “I can’t eat like that.”
He hadn’t expected that answer. Amused, Fu Jingshen laughed aloud. “If you can’t eat because he’s watching us, then what about other things?”
Ji Ying blinked. “Other things?”
“For example,” Fu Jingshen’s gaze deepened, his voice slow and steady, “watching us get married.”
Ji Ying choked, coughing hard, her eyes shimmering as she looked at him.
Conversations with Fu Jingshen always seemed to twist suddenly into unexpected directions. Yet, he was indeed her betrothed. What he said wasn’t without logic.
Perhaps this topic had long needed to be addressed.
Ji Ying set down her chopsticks, asking seriously: “Third Brother, are you truly willing to marry me?”
Fu Jingshen raised his brows but didn’t interrupt, continuing to listen.
“That time at the teahouse, before then we’d hardly interacted,” Ji Ying blinked lightly. “And I’m six years younger than you.”
“When I was still a student, Third Brother was already managing such a large corporation. Your knowledge, experience, even your values are far different from mine.”
“Maybe because of the marriage contract between our grandfathers, you were forced to be tied to me.” She paused, then added gently: “If you still have doubts, I’ll support whatever decision you make.” Her voice was clear, steady, each word open and sincere.
For a long while, only the sound of the television filled the hall.
Fu Jingshen looked into her eyes, a faint smile flickering there, and asked slowly: “Yinghua, isn’t it obvious enough whether I’m willing?”
Ji Ying’s heart skipped. “So… you *are* willing?”
“Then let me continue.” She steadied herself, met his gaze, and declared firmly: “I want to get married.”
The television was noisy, her words not entirely clear. Fu Jingshen reached out to lower the volume, lifting his eyes. “With me?”
Ji Ying’s carefully prepared speech collapsed halfway. She laughed helplessly. “Is that the point? Isn’t the point that I want to marry?”
Fu Jingshen refilled her tea, speaking lightly: “Wanting to marry, and wanting to marry *me*, are two different things.”
“Wanting marriage means you see it as a way to escape some current predicament.” He set the cup before her with a soft clink, his smile fading. “If I’m not mistaken, what you want is freedom.”
Ji Ying’s expression faltered. After a moment, she nodded gently. With his keen perception, it wasn’t surprising he had guessed her intent so quickly.
Lowering her eyes, she admitted without much confidence: “We can spend some time like this first. If Third Brother thinks I’m not too bad, then I’ll bring up marriage to my family.”
Fu Jingshen looked into her clear eyes, then lowered his gaze, long fingers slowly tracing the rim of his cup. The sudden turn of events left him wondering if fate had dropped a gift into his lap—this silly girl walking straight into his arms. Using the last of his restraint, he asked softly: “In your eyes, what kind of person am I?”
Ji Ying thought for a moment, then answered firmly: “Steady, humble, courteous.”
Fu Jingshen hadn’t expected such high praise. He raised a brow. “Anything else?”
Ji Ying pressed her lips, hesitated, then added with a hint of accusation: “Sometimes… a little bad.”
“Have you thought about what life with me would be like after marriage?”
Ji Ying studied his cool, refined features. In social circles, Fu Jingshen was often described as ascetic and indifferent—interested in nothing beyond work. He had come to propose just before her twentieth birthday, likely only because it was time, and she was the one he was supposed to marry.
After a few seconds of thought, she answered cautiously: “Respectful, like guests. Not interfering with each other?”
She recalled several famous couples in arranged marriages—loving in public, cold in private. Perhaps such a life wasn’t so bad.
Fu Jingshen’s gaze deepened, his eyes dark as ink. After a long pause, he repeated her words, one by one.
“Respectful like guests, not interfering with each other?”
The atmosphere shifted slightly. Ji Ying froze, wondering where things had gone wrong.
But before she could speak, Fu Jingshen’s expression returned to its familiar calm, as though that fleeting change had been an illusion.
“Very good.” Fu Jingshen smiled faintly.
“Then… happy cooperation?” Ji Ying curved her lips, looking at him expectantly.
Just as she was about to breathe in relief, the man suddenly leaned closer. His warm fingertips brushed her cheek, pressing lightly, pinching outward.
Too close—his face hovered near her neck, his expression unreadable. Only his thin lips moved, releasing a few words: “Happy cooperation.”
“Perhaps I should call you in advance—”
“Mrs. Fu.”