The rain was heavy, the wipers swiping back and forth across the windshield, blurring everything outside into indistinct shadows.
Stepping out of the elevator and stopping at the entryway, Sang Wan hesitated, suddenly feeling too awkward to move forward. The living room that met her eyes was spacious and lavish. Beyond the floor‑to‑ceiling windows stretched lush, layered greenery. The soft palette of cream and pale gray lent the house a gentler air, diluting some of the gloom etched between Lou Ye’s brows.
Yet Sang Wan didn’t dare take a single step inside. Water dripped steadily from her clothes, her muddy footprints marking the elevator threshold.
At the Lu family villa, she had stripped off her gown in front of a crowd without a flicker of emotion. But here, in this moment, she felt a sharp pang of embarrassment, as though her disheveled state had been laid bare.
Lou Ye opened the shoe cabinet, pulled out a brand‑new pair of cotton slippers, tore off the packaging, and set them at her feet. “Go shower in the bathroom. Afterward, take care of the wound on your foot.”
“I…”
“If you don’t want to catch a cold, be good and listen.”
He pointed toward the bedroom, loosening his tie and tossing it onto the sofa as he pulled out his phone. “You all arrived? Forget it, disperse. We’ll meet another day.”
His voice was low, commanding. With his dark shirt and trousers, his silhouette was the very image of a domineering CEO from a city drama—if one ignored the orange tabby cat tucked in the crook of his arm.
Water pooled on the floor, spreading outward. Sang Wan’s heart twisted with mortification. But whether she lost a little face or a great deal, did it really make any difference anymore? Steeling herself, she slipped on the slippers and entered the bedroom.
The deep‑gray room carried a cool fragrance, sharp and clean, like stepping into a Nordic forest of fir and cedar.
Finding her bearings, Sang Wan pushed open the bathroom door.
As she dropped her wet clothes into the laundry basket, her gaze faltered. What was she supposed to wear afterward? She couldn’t very well stay wrapped in a bath towel in Lou Ye’s home. Who knew how long the errands she’d ordered would take to arrive?
Meanwhile, in the living room, Lou Ye frowned at the shadow cast on the window, at the ridiculous orange cat curled like a loaf in his arm. His brows knit tighter. “Whether it’s billions or tens of billions, didn’t Heaven already say today was inauspicious for signing contracts?”
“If they’re willing to compromise, tell them I’ll shave off one point and sign tomorrow. If not, then forget it.”
Without a second thought for the monumental deal awaiting his signature, Lou Ye hung up the phone. He glanced at the orange tabby, fast asleep with its eyes rolled back.
Another sweep of the room—the sofa was spacious, the carpet soft—yet Lou Ye felt that nothing seemed quite right.
Before he could finish brooding, the cat stirred awake. With a long stretch, it leaped to the floor and began prowling the territory like a little master of the house.
Lou Ye arched a brow, a faint smile flickering in his eyes.
From the bedroom came the sound of rushing water. Remembering the scene he’d just witnessed, his face darkened as he dialed a number. “Do you have any brand‑new clothes? Send a set over. Don’t be ridiculous, do you even stock men’s wear?”
!!!
“Brother, are you hiding a beauty in your golden house?!”
The shrill female voice on the other end nearly pierced his eardrum. Lou Ye pulled the phone away in disgust, waiting until her barrage of questions ran its course before putting it back to his ear. “From inside out, a full set. Shoes with soft soles. Hurry.”
“Brother!!” Her shocked cry cut off abruptly as Lou Ye hung up without hesitation.
Meanwhile, Sang Wan luxuriated in a hot shower, wrapping herself tightly in a bath towel. She had just switched on the hair dryer when a knock sounded at the bathroom door. Her skin prickled, every hair standing on end. She hadn’t even managed a reply before a sweet, girlish voice called from outside: “Big sister, I’ve left the clothes at your door. They’re all new—you can wear them with confidence!”
Bang!
As if afraid Sang Wan might doubt her, the bedroom door slammed shut with deliberate force.
Sang Wan pulled open the door and saw the bag on the floor. Inside were a set of black lingerie, still warm from the dryer, and a flowing lake‑green Bohemian‑style dress—casual yet comfortable. She dried her hair, changed, and stepped out of the bedroom.
The moment she emerged, she froze.
On the sofa sat a short‑haired girl in shorts and a T‑shirt, gleefully looping a tie around Lou Ye’s neck. Her eyes sparkled like stars. “Spill it! Or next year on this day will be your memorial!”
Clearly, she hadn’t expected Sang Wan to finish her shower so quickly. The girl blinked in surprise.
Lou Ye yanked the tie from her hands and tossed it straight into the trash. “I’ll count to three. Disappear! One… three!!”
???
The girl was still dazed by Sang Wan’s beauty when the sudden “three” rang out. She bolted, shouting as she ran: “Lou Ye, you fight dirty! What about two?! Pretty sister, it’s an honor to meet you. See you next time! Bye—” Her words trailed off as she vanished into the elevator.
Sang Wan: …
“The doctor will be here soon. Sit down for now.”
Gesturing for her to take a seat, Lou Ye went to the kitchen, poured a cup of hot milk, and handed it to her. “That was Jiang Ke’er just now. She’s the one who brought your clothes.”
“Your girlfriend?” Sang Wan sipped the milk, her eyes bright with a smile. “What a cute girl. I really like her!”
“No.” Lou Ye shook his head. “She’s my younger sister.”
Sang Wan’s expression cleared with sudden understanding.
Lou Ye went on, “Her father is my third uncle. She takes her mother’s surname. She lives in the neighboring building—it’s easy for her to come over through the garage.”
Sang Wan nodded. “Later, help me ask her how much these clothes cost. I’ll transfer the money to you, and you can pass it along to her. Please thank her for me.”
“Alright.” Lou Ye agreed with a nod.
The doorbell rang. Lou Ye stepped forward to open it.
Two teams of doctors filed in. One attended to Sang Wan—taking her temperature and treating the wound on her foot. The other carried the orange tabby into a room.
When Sang Wan looked up again, Lou Ye was already gone. Though she’d been drenched in the rain, she hadn’t developed a fever. Still, the doctors left her medicine, instructing her to take it if any symptoms appeared. Her foot was cleaned, dressed, and medicated. Even the orange cat, when it returned, had its fur fluffed and tail held high, looking thoroughly pleased with itself.
The doctors departed.
The spacious living room fell quiet.
Sang Wan turned to the window, watching the relentless downpour, worry creeping into her heart. Who knew when the rain would finally stop?
“Senior…”
At the sound of Lou Ye’s voice behind her, she turned. He had changed into loungewear: a white T‑shirt and long pants.
Barefoot on the floor, Lou Ye no longer carried the cold, domineering aura of a CEO. With the bright, gentle smile softening his features, for an instant he seemed to transform back into the sunny youth who once ran across the university basketball court.
Lou Ye ruffled his still‑damp hair with a casual hand, smiling as he asked Sang Wan, “When you visit someone else’s home, do you act like this too?”
Sang Wan blinked, glancing down at herself. “Like what?”
“Brimming with thorns all over—like this isn’t a home, but an interrogation room.” He teased lightly, and before she could respond, he added offhandedly, “What do you drink? Tea or coffee? Forget it, I’ll brew something and you’ll drink whatever it is.”
Soon, the rich aroma of coffee, tinged with a fruity woodiness, spread through the living room.
A moment later, Lou Ye carried over two cups, handed one to Sang Wan, and went straight to sit on the floor by the wide window.
Separated by a few meters, he gazed out at the rain, savoring the view.
Sang Wan felt herself relax.
Then Lou Ye’s voice came again: “Senior, do you regret it?”
Sang Wan froze.