The glass cabin stopped at the highest point of the Ferris wheel for about half an hour.
It didn’t start moving again until all the fireworks had faded into the night wind.
Chen Luoru had drunk some champagne that evening, and the dazzling fireworks had left her a little dazed. By the time she stepped out of the cabin, her feet felt light and floaty.
“Ah—!” By accident, she hurt the ankle she had just recovered from.
Meng Jianchen looked down and couldn’t understand how she had managed to twist her ankle when he’d been holding her hand as they walked.
“Twisted your ankle?”
“Mm…” Chen Luoru lifted that foot slightly, frowning a little.
She sat back down in the cabin seat, and Meng Jianchen crouched down, lifting her right foot onto his knee.
Layer upon layer of gauzy skirt slipped from her leg, revealing her well-proportioned, fair calf, which shone like jade under the lights.
He supported her ankle and gently removed her amethyst high heel.
Her feet were beautiful—slender ankles, graceful arches, full toes.
Her toenails, like fine white jade, were painted with a layer of transparent polish, and the protruding bones gleamed faintly in the night.
He held her foot loosely in his palm—so small that when compared, it was shorter than his hand.
He gently massaged her injured ankle with his fingertips, and Chen Luoru bit her lip, letting out a kitten-like whimper, uncertain if it was from pain or embarrassment.
“It’s a little swollen,” Meng Jianchen said.
“What should I do?” she asked.
“Apply some ice,” he said. “Come on, let’s go home first.”
He put her foot down, picked up her pair of high heels, then stood up to carry her.
One hand supported her back, the other slid under her knees, lifting her effortlessly.
Chen Luoru, suddenly weightless, curled up in his arms and quietly looked up at him.
His jawline was sharp, his tightly pressed lips and prominent Adam’s apple exuding masculine charm, even the faint cool fragrance on him carrying an indescribable allure.
He carried her into the car like this and then out again once they reached home.
Back on the large bed in the bedroom, Chen Luoru’s mind was still foggy.
Meng Jianchen fetched a small round stool, placed it beside the bed, lifted her foot onto it, and brought several ice cubes from the ice maker to apply to her ankle.
The chill made Chen Luoru hiss, “Tss—” and her calf instinctively tried to pull back.
Meng Jianchen held her foot in place, saying flatly, “Don’t move.”
This was something Chen Luoru had never experienced in her twenty-two years of life.
Her bare foot was held in a man’s palm, the cold ice pressing against the warm pulse point. At first she truly felt cold, but as the ice melted, she gradually began to feel hot.
This heat had nothing to do with the weather—there was a small flame burning inside her.
And the man before her was still and composed, utterly calm, which made her feel a strange sense of shame.
She remembered what Chen Yang had taught her that afternoon and suddenly wanted to know if Meng Jianchen was really as unaffected as he seemed.
Her curiosity and mischievous streak rose together—she decided to test him.
“Mmm…” she let out a soft hum, her voice so tender it seemed it could be wrung into a drop of water.
“Still hurts?” The ice in his hand had long since melted into slivers, leaving a wet patch on the carpet at the foot of the bed.
Chen Luoru leaned against the pillow and shook her head lightly. “I’m so hot.”
“Hot?” he repeated. Her eyelids were half-lowered, and a faint blush bloomed on her cheeks.
“Mm… so hot.” Her voice was delicate and soft, like a feather brushing the heartstrings.
He glanced at the quietly running central air conditioner—the room was set to a pleasant twenty-six degrees. How could she feel hot?
He adjusted the temperature at the bedside controls down to twenty-two degrees. “It shouldn’t be hot now.”
Chen Luoru blinked, watching his smooth, perfectly reasonable actions in disbelief.
But… her sister had clearly said this line was supposed to work.
“Um…” she fidgeted. “My… my clothes are too thick.”
Her evening gown was an off-shoulder style made of gossamer-light tulle—if the dress had a mouth, it would be crying out in protest at the accusation.
He leaned closer, looking into her alluring peach-blossom eyes.
“Do you have a fever?” he asked hoarsely, his voice low and resonant like a cello. As he spoke, he reached out to feel her forehead. The source of this chapter is g.com.
Her face was indeed a bit warm, but she didn’t seem feverish.
He worried she might have caught a chill from the night breeze, which would explain the strange things she was saying.
“I don’t!” she said, turning her head away in mild irritation.
His touch made her blush so deeply it felt like her face could drip blood.
He must be doing it on purpose! She had hinted so obviously, yet he remained unmoved!
“Then go take a cool shower,” he said, pulling a few tissues to wipe his hands, also drying the water droplets on her foot.
She moved her ankle—it didn’t seem to hurt anymore.
A faint, complicated emotion rose in her chest, and whatever little goodwill she’d felt toward him vanished instantly.
She, the distinguished Miss Chen, naturally beautiful and elegant, had only ever been on the receiving end of male attention—how could she be the one making advances?
And worse, he was so utterly clueless!
Was he deliberately trying to embarrass her?
“Hmph!” she huffed, getting out of bed and walking toward the bathroom.
He watched her graceful, swaying back and shook his head with a helpless smile.
Whether he pretended or not, he had to keep up the act.
He crumpled the tissue in his hand and tossed it into the trash.
In front of the bathroom mirror, Chen Luoru felt grievance bubbling in her heart.
She looked at herself—bright-eyed, fresh-faced, youthful and lovely. What man wouldn’t be moved by this?
But Meng Jianchen was like a block of wood.
【Chen Luoru: Am I beautiful?】
【Chen Xiao: …】
【Chen Xiao: I’m not a magic mirror. Why are you asking me this?】
【Chen Luoru: Just tell me—am I beautiful or not?】
【Chen Xiao: You seriously don’t have the slightest idea yourself?】
【Chen Luoru: No.】
【Chen Xiao: Fine, hold on. I’ll find some words to praise you.】
Two minutes later, Chen Luoru’s chat was flooded with Chen Xiao’s flattery.
【Chen Xiao: Little fairy Chen Luoru, favored by God Himself, created to dazzle the world.】
【Chen Xiao: You single-handedly raise the beauty level of the whole street. You’re a heart-arsonist beyond redemption.】
【Chen Xiao: You wicked woman, please stop releasing your charm everywhere.】
【Chen Xiao: There are countless stars in the sky and countless girls in the world. But there’s only one moon in the sky and only one you in the world.】
【Chen Xiao: Tonight, I don’t care about humanity. I only care about you, my doggy.】
【Chen Luoru: Doggy?】
【Chen Xiao: Oops, forgot to change the name when copying.】
Chen Xiao quickly recalled the message and resent it.
【Chen Xiao: Tonight, I don’t care about humanity. I only care about you, my Princess Chen Luoru.】
This over-the-top praise was exactly what Chen Luoru liked.
【Chen Luoru: Sigh, even a woman like me can have worries.】
【Chen Xiao: Please… begin your performance.jpg】
Chen Luoru told her everything that had happened today. When Chen Xiao finished listening, she could only imagine herself with a black-question-mark face.
The lives of the rich were colorful; the lives of the poor were dull.
It was just an ordinary Monday for Chen Xiao—working an ordinary job, hauling ordinary bricks.
And this woman? Pampered by her sister, doted on by her husband, wandering in her own amusement park, with exclusive access to a Ferris wheel and fireworks.
And now she was complaining.
Chen Xiao wanted to tell her—“Drama queen!”
【Chen Xiao: If you want to show off, just say it. Don’t beat around the bush. I’ve known you long enough—my heart can handle it.】
【Chen Luoru: He’s nice to me only because I’m his wife.】
【Chen Xiao: And who else should he be nice to?】
【Chen Luoru: Any woman in my place would get the same treatment. My marriage is a tragedy.】
【Chen Luoru: Life is hard… even for a fairy.】
【Chen Xiao: You need to realize—not every woman can climb to your position.】
【Chen Luoru: So what? I don’t care.】
【Chen Xiao: Then why are you talking my ear off about it? Anyone listening would think you’re in love with him.】
That last remark poked a hidden corner of Chen Luoru’s heart, making her instantly defensive.
【Chen Luoru: I am not!】
【Chen Luoru: I’m going to divorce him!】
Yes—she mustn’t be blinded by Ferris wheels and fireworks, forgetting her original intent.
Better to cut ties quickly before feelings got involved!
【Chen Xiao: …】
【Chen Xiao: So if he treats you badly, it’s wrong; if he treats you well, it’s also wrong.】
【Chen Xiao: So basically, he shouldn’t even exist in this world, right?】
Men really had it tough—Chen Xiao felt sorry for Meng Jianchen.
Every family had its difficult problems, but his was especially tricky.
【Chen Luoru: I’ll tell him tomorrow morning that I want a divorce.】
【Chen Xiao: Weren’t you going to “settle accounts after autumn”?】
【Chen Luoru: No time.】
If she delayed any longer, she might fall for him.
【Chen Xiao: Fine. When you get divorced, I’ll set off a big firecracker to celebrate.】
【Chen Xiao: I’m going to sleep now. Need to get up early to move bricks.】
Chen Luoru closed the chat app and went to shower—muttering curses about Meng Jianchen the whole time.
The next morning, she ate breakfast with a cold face.
Meng Jianchen: “Is your foot better?”
Chen Luoru: “None of your business!”
June weather, Chen Luoru’s mood—both could change in an instant.
Luckily, he hadn’t gone along with her last night. Young women’s moods were fickle—if he had done what she wanted, she’d probably have regretted it the moment she woke.
Finishing her last sip of porridge, she finally made up her mind.
She said, “Let’s talk.”
Meng Jianchen: “About what?”
Taking a deep breath and summoning her courage, she said, “Let’s get a divorce.”
The air went still.
Meng Jianchen slowly sipped his coffee. “No.”
Chen Luoru: “You don’t even like me—why pretend?”
There was some strange emotion hidden in her words, making it sound almost like she was pouting.
He put down his coffee, studying her quietly.
After a moment, he said slowly, “If I say I like you, will you not divorce me?”
She immediately put on airs. “In your dreams!”
Meng Jianchen: “…”
Sansukini: Chen Xiao is the queen of sarcasm.
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