His movements carried a casual, relaxed air, as if he truly considered himself the master of this place, without any politeness or distance.
Lu Bofan took off his jacket and leisurely followed behind the woman, leaning against the bathroom doorway with his arms crossed as he watched her: "I'm your husband—doesn't that make me the master of the house?"
Her bathroom was no smaller than the one at Nanshan Courtyard. If he wanted to come in and freshen up together, it wouldn't be cramped.
By all logic, now that they were married, she should have answered—of course it does.
Lu Meng used a fluffy hair clip to pin back her stray hairs. Without turning around, her gaze through the spacious, bright mirror fixed steadily on the man's calm, dark eyes: "CEO Lu has so many properties under his name—why insist on being the master of my little room?"
The woman's counter-question carried no aggression. Lu Bofan met her gaze in return, not calling out her feigned ignorance, still wearing his composed, unhurried demeanor: "What do you think?"
Lu Meng's heartbeat seemed to skip a beat. She looked away. Though it sounded like a complaint, it carried a faint, coquettish illusion: "Who knows what you capitalists are thinking—you want everything."
Lu Bofan found it somewhat amusing. The Shao family was no ordinary household either—one could even call them "capitalists."
However, he did not refute his wife's words.
Lu Bofan slowly walked over. He was still wearing his refined smoke-gray shirt, the collar unbuttoned by two buttons. His figure was tall and slender, and standing beside her, they seemed inexplicably well-matched.
"Then why don't you guess what I want right now?"
The oppressive presence unique to a man loomed over her from behind. Lu Meng knew he was looking at her, but her gaze wandered elsewhere carelessly: "I'm not your assistant."
Lu Bofan seemed to casually brace his hands on the sink, and without her noticing, had enclosed her in his arms. His gaze lowered as he stared at her, speaking slowly: "I'm not asking my assistant either."
"I'm asking my wife."
—Wife.
Perhaps he was standing too close. Such an intimate posture threw her heartbeat off rhythm. Lu Meng had no choice but to turn around. Meeting the man's calm, deep gaze, she showed no crack in her composure, maintaining her cool as she countered: "Does a wife have to understand what you want?"
Lu Bofan's gaze swept over the hair clip on her forehead. He couldn't resist reaching out to touch it, then unhurriedly let his eyes settle back into hers, answering a different question: "But I know what my wife is thinking right now."
Lu Meng's curiosity was piqued: "Go on, then."
"Lu Bofan has taken over my room. I'm very unhappy."
The man spoke in a flat tone, imitating her manner. Lu Meng's eyes widened slightly. She couldn't help but clench her fist and pound his firm, solid chest in self-defense: "I wasn't thinking that."
A smile flickered in the depths of Lu Bofan's eyes. "So, you're willing to let me share a room with you?"
Only then did Lu Meng realize she'd been teased. Heat rose to her cheeks, but she still feigned composure, reaching up to loop her arms around the man's neck, holding her ground in their back-and-forth standoff: "Aren't you my husband?"
"If you're not sharing a room with me, you want us to sleep in separate rooms?"
It seemed she'd learned bad habits from him.
In the spacious, bright mirror, the tall man braced his hands on the marble counter, his gaze lowered toward the woman—intimate and ambiguous.
"You can tell I did pretty well today—you're in a good mood."
Lu Meng was indeed in a good mood today, but the main reason was being back with her parents.
Strictly speaking, though, President Lu had indeed performed very well.
Even though he was late, he had prepared thoughtfully. Gentle and considerate—and most importantly, he had perceptively noticed the tension between her and her grandmother.
So Lu Meng didn't argue with him, but sincerely thanked him: "Thank you."
Lu Bofan had never accepted verbal thanks, even when the person in front of him was his wife.
"Shouldn't you show some sincerity?"
Lu Meng thought he was truly a businessman at heart. Her hand moved downward, her slender fingers casually poking the man's firm chest: "How do you want me to thank you?"
"You were late today, and I didn't even say anything. President Lu, please don't push your luck."
Lu Bofan stared at her: "I thought you didn't care."
Didn't care about what? His being late?
Lu Meng really didn't mind that much—she was just afraid her parents would worry.
But since he had brought it up himself, Lu Meng was willing to take the step. She raised her eyes to look at the man, and the finger poking his chest unconsciously slipped past his collar and ventured inward: "Then I hope that in the future, President Lu, you'll keep every promise you make. No more breaking them."
Lu Bofan glanced down at her fingertip, then lifted his eyes and nodded, saying it was fine.
Lu Meng finally realized what a teasing gesture her finger was making. She slowly stopped, and heard the man's voice fall from above, carrying a faint, barely perceptible smile—
"I thought you were going to undress me."
Lu Meng suddenly felt her fingertip burning. She snatched her hand back, avoided his gaze, and tried to leave: "You're overthinking it. I'm going to—"
Lu Bofan circled her waist and pulled her back. His breath drew close, but he didn't kiss her directly—he restrained himself and kept some distance, yet his dark gaze aggressively captured hers, as if hooking her heart along with it.
"Leaving just like that? Don't you want to punish me?"
Lu Meng stared at the lips about to kiss her. Her breathing tightened, and only belatedly did she realize why there should be punishment.
She had nowhere to escape, completely trapped in the man's arms. Tilting her face up slightly, she used her last bit of reason to retort: "Isn't being late supposed to mean a fine? What is President Lu doing?"
The air grew hot, their breaths restrainedly tangled together.
Lu Bofan always liked to toss the question back at her: "You want money?"
Lu Meng didn't lack money—one could even say she was very wealthy.
But she refused to make any choice. Wrapping both arms around the man's neck, she answered with a touch of spoiled arrogance: "I want it all. Will you give me everything?"
President Lu had brought this punishment on himself.
Money—she wanted it.
The kiss—she wanted it too.
A smile surfaced in Lu Bofan's eyes. He lifted the woman's face and kissed her.
Perfect—money, he had. And this kiss, he was more than happy to give.
Lu Bofan's arm wrapped around her waist, and Lu Meng was almost entirely pulled tight against him. She instinctively rose on her tiptoes, and the next second was lifted and set onto the washstand.
This position made things much easier for her, because as he pressed in step by step, her body uncontrollably fell backward—only to be scooped back.
Their entangled lips and teeth never once separated from beginning to end.
Her fingertips unconsciously threaded through the man's dark hair, and the gasping breaths between their movements were swallowed whole in the next second.
Heat coiled relentlessly from her ears—her cheeks burned, her heart raced, everything burned.
Lu Meng had once read somewhere that people who had never been in love might feel uncomfortable during their first intimate encounter.
As if their private territory had suddenly been invaded, everything thrown off balance.
But she didn't feel that discomfort.
She seemed to actually enjoy kissing Lu Bofan, and the more intimate things brought her a different kind of pleasure—
"Should we skip it today?"
Lu Meng leaned back slightly to avoid his kiss. Her throat was dry, her voice a little hoarse.
Lu Bofan rubbed her glistening lips with a light touch, but his dark gaze stayed fixed on her. "Why?"
Her breathing was uneven as she explained in a low voice, "I don't have any here…"
The two didn't plan to have children anytime soon, so they'd agreed before marriage—no plans for that within three years.
As her words trailed off, she instinctively glanced at him.
That cautious look made Lu Bofan find it somewhat amusing. He lifted her chin to make her look at him. "You think I'd get angry over something like this?"
Lu Meng swallowed for no reason. "Everyone knows you, President Lu, love to snap at people."
Lu Bofan paused. "Have I ever snapped at you?"
No, he hadn't.
But from what she'd observed, that was how he was with everyone else—cold, hard to approach.
Lu Bofan looked a little helpless. Unlike the deep kiss from before, he gently pecked her lips, so tender it made her dizzy.
"The one standing in front of me isn't someone else—it's my wife."
Lu Meng noticed her heart pounding relentlessly, sounding almost startlingly loud in the quiet bathroom.
She didn't know what she was nervous about. Flustered, she avoided his gaze, her cheeks burning as she pushed him out. "I need to shower. Get out."
The bathroom door closed without mercy. This was the first time President Lu had ever been kicked out of a room.
Thinking of how her lashes had trembled, how clearly embarrassed she'd been, a smile flickered in his eyes. He wasn't angry—just casually brushed his own lips with his fingers.
When Lu Meng came out again, her mood had settled considerably, but she still didn't look at him. She just lay face-down on the bed playing with her phone.
The man showered much faster than she did. The bed dipped with a heavy weight beside her, yet she didn't even lift an eyelid.
"Lu Meng."
Unlike the intimate, low murmur from their kissing moments ago, his voice had returned to calm and composed.
Lu Meng was watching a show. Without looking up, she gave a perfunctory "Mm."
"Why aren't you wearing your wedding ring?"
She finally spared him some attention, glanced at her bare ring finger, then looked at the ring on his hand.
Lu Bofan lowered his eyes and asked again, "Don't you like it?"
"No." Lu Meng shook her head. "It's too flashy. It's inconvenient for me at work."
She was telling the truth.
The wedding ring Lu Bofan had prepared for her was a beautiful pink diamond, specially designed by an international designer. She genuinely loved it.
But her profession was unique—wearing it to class might invite criticism.
Lu Bofan raised a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I didn't think that through."
Lu Meng didn't think it was a big deal. Their wedding had been rushed, and he'd arranged everything well—at least he'd fulfilled all those pages of her Word document.
Mentioning this, she couldn't help but ask, "What did you think when you received the email?"
Lu Bofan's gaze shifted from his phone to her, his voice indifferent: "I didn't think anything."
"Don't you think there are too many demands?"
Lu Meng couldn't help but question.
Lu Bofan remained calm: "You're going to marry me, so it's only natural for you to make some demands."
Maybe not just a few.
But she had to admit, she was happy to hear this answer.
Before going to sleep, she even took the initiative to say goodnight to him.
Lu Bofan also noticed that she slept much better at his home than at Nanshan Courtyard, and even her sleeping posture was much more relaxed.
The first two nights, she had only honestly rolled into his arms, but tonight she directly draped her leg over his waist, and before long, she turned over again.
After tossing and turning like this several times, Lu Bofan simply held her firmly in his arms, and only then did the person in her sleep gradually settle down.
Lu Bofan went on a business trip, and Lu Meng's life didn't change much.
Besides her classes at school, she occasionally went out for a spa, or had afternoon tea with friends.
But recently, she spent most of her time busy with translation work.
Apart from sending her a message when he first landed, the two of them hadn't been in contact afterward, until one afternoon, he sent over a document.
Lu Meng opened it and discovered it was a design sketch for a wedding ring.
Or more precisely, a new wedding ring.
Compared to the previous luxurious and exquisite pink diamond, this style seemed much more understated.
She realized something and was about to type a question when the man's message already popped up—
1: [I had someone design a new wedding ring. See if you like it.]
1: [Or, is there a style you like?]