After Song Qingtang finished speaking, the air fell into silence.
Jin Zhuochuan didn’t say a word, walking straight into the study.
It was a long while before he came back out, casually draped in a set of clothes.
Very casual, and it wasn’t hard to tell that he didn’t usually spend much time at home.
A gray short-sleeved shirt with a simple black pattern printed on it. Dark-colored trousers that made his legs look long and lean.
He wore slippers on his feet, and even his hair was only half-dry, a towel clutched in his hand.
The veins on his arms could be seen extending downward, remarkably smooth in their lines.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Song Qingtang was still sitting on the sofa, her posture unchanged, her phone still in the exact same spot without even a fraction of movement.
He walked over and sat down on the single sofa nearby.
His legs stretched out casually, lazily extending as he rested his hand on the sofa arm, the other hand bent, holding the towel as he absently dried his hair.
“Let’s talk,” he said.
His tone was nonchalant, and the look he gave her was equally indifferent.
Song Qingtang looked at him.
The sharpness about him seemed to be well concealed—he didn’t appear nearly as cutting as before.
“I don’t have any other requests,” Song Qingtang said. “I just want to get through a full year peacefully.”
Once the term on the agreement was up, she would leave.
Jin Zhuochuan listened quietly, the weariness in his brow obvious.
“Is that all?” he asked.
“Yes.” Song Qingtang nodded.
“Fine, I’ll agree to that,” Jin Zhuochuan said. “I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I don’t usually stay here—I live over at Repulse Bay. Whether you stay here or come with me is up to you.”
Song Qingtang thought for a moment.
“I’ll go to Repulse Bay with you.”
She didn’t know anyone here, so there was no point in staying.
Jin Zhuochuan nodded and stood up from the sofa.
He only seemed casual at first glance, but whenever he rose to his feet, he always stirred a faint, subtle current in the air.
His gaze was perpetually indifferent, the upturned curve of his eyes carrying a defiant edge, making him feel difficult to approach—along with the quiet pressure hidden in the air around him.
“Let’s go then.”
Song Qingtang stood up from the sofa and nodded.
Jin Zhuochuan dried his hair a few more times, tossed the towel into the bathroom, changed his shoes, and headed out.
He was used to doing things his own way.
Song Qingtang followed him.
A driver was waiting outside. She had brought very little with her, and it was quickly loaded into the car by the servants.
The two of them got in.
They arrived at Repulse Bay before long.
Repulse Bay was famous for its excellent environment—all private residences there, and equally famous as an affluent neighborhood.
Ordinary people couldn’t get in at all.
When they arrived, the two got out of the car.
Jin Zhuochuan’s phone rang.
He closed the car door first, then unhurriedly picked up his phone, glanced at the caller ID, and only then answered.
The voice on the other end was somewhat noisy.
Song Qingtang guessed it was probably Jin Zhuochuan’s father, Jin Yongshan, on the line.
Jin Yongshan’s voice was loud enough that even Song Qingtang, standing off to the side, could barely make it out.
“Where the hell are you?” Jin Yongshan’s tone was barely contained anger.
“What, miss me that much after not seeing me for a minute?” Jin Zhuochuan’s tone was flat.
He deliberately dragged his words out as he spoke.
His tone sounded utterly careless and indifferent, like he was stoking the fire.
That remark set Jin Yongshan’s fury ablaze completely.
“Do you know what day it is today? You running around like a mad dog with no sense of decency is one thing, but what the hell is wrong with you today?!”
Jin Zhuochuan held the phone, not a single flicker of emotion crossing his face.
He even replied lazily, “Old man, you’ve got a real temper.”
“I’ve already brought the person back, so what more do you want?”
Jin Yongshan was so furious he couldn’t find words for a long time.
Finally he asked, “Is Qingtang there with you? Put her on the phone.”
Jin Zhuochuan paused for a moment, then obediently held the phone out to Song Qingtang.
Song Qingtang took it and heard Jin Yongshan say with a laugh, “Is this Qingtang?”
“It’s me.”
“That brat Jin Zhuochuan has a bad temper—please bear with him. If he gives you any trouble, tell me, and I’ll deal with him.”
“If you need anything at all, just let me know. Treat this place like your own home.”
“Your father and I are very close. Don’t be formal, and don’t be too nervous. Just be happy and enjoy yourself.”
“…”
Jin Yongshan went on and on, and Song Qingtang barely had a chance to respond—she could only listen quietly.
Only after Jin Yongshan finished did Song Qingtang hand the phone back to Jin Zhuochuan.
Once he had the phone in hand, Jin Zhuochuan didn’t say another word—he hung up directly.
Then he led Song Qingtang into the villa.
His private residence was quite large, though somewhat empty and sparse.
Jin Zhuochuan brought her inside without saying much, keeping it brief: “Pick any room on the second floor.”
Song Qingtang hummed in acknowledgment.
After she chose her room, the servants helped bring her things up. The room had been cleaned thoroughly.
The color scheme inside was monotonous, though, and it looked somewhat lifeless.
Porcelain-white tiles paved the floor, and the surface was spotless. After tidying up her room, Song Qingtang made her way down the spiral staircase.
She saw Jin Zhuochuan sitting on the sofa, a cigarette pinched between his fingers, unlit.
His other hand held his phone—someone had called him, though she couldn’t tell who.
The irritation between his brows was unmistakable.
Song Qingtang walked down the stairs.
Jin Zhuochuan rose from the sofa, casually grabbing a jacket draped over the armrest before heading toward the door.
It looked like he was going out for something.
Almost instinctively, Song Qingtang asked, “Where are you going?”
The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
Jin Zhuochuan’s steps faltered. His hand rested on his shoulder, index finger hooked around a plain-colored coat.
Hearing her voice, he turned and looked at her.
She stood at the first step of the staircase. Her makeup, which should have been meticulously done, was now slightly smudged.
Yet there was still a kind of fragile, indescribable beauty about her.
Her eyes were clear and bright, but they also seemed somewhat vacant.
Like a lost little fawn, wandering astray, unsure of where it was going.
Jin Zhuochuan curled his lips into a faint smile.
But there was no trace of amusement in his brows. If anything, they carried a hint of cold detachment.
“Mrs. Jin, are you this curious about everyone?”