Shen Yuanming lifted his eyes coldly, sweeping a glance at Ge Yan.
He finally understood.
The old Ge Yan wanted a little love.
The current Ge Yan—wanted a little money.
“Last night, you…”
Ge Yan hurriedly said, “Last night, I didn’t hear anything!”
Shen Yuanming frowned. “What?” After a few seconds, his expression darkened. “What exactly did you hear?”
Ge Yan smiled awkwardly yet politely. Why did this person have a habit of making others recount his arguments with his girlfriend?
Shen Yuanming was momentarily stunned before remembering the main issue.
“I meant, last night you seemed unwell.”
Ge Yan didn’t react immediately.
As the saying goes, when cotton pants are worn over leather pants, there must be a reason.
“In the adult world, nothing is easy. For the sake of living, yet you still saw through my disguise.”
Ge Yan lowered her eyes and shook her head sadly.
To be honest, ever since he and Cen Yan joined, Ge Yan hadn’t felt comfortable.
That was Ge Yan’s true thoughts.
Suddenly showing inexplicable concern for Ge Yan, even Shen Yuanming himself felt it was somewhat abrupt. He quickly added, “If you’re unwell, go to the hospital. Don’t die on the show.”
Ah, that familiar sarcastic tone was back.
Ge Yan finally felt less awkward.
“The world is just a giant tomb, and we are all warm corpses. It’s nothing serious.”
Ge Yan’s tone was thick with philosophical flavor.
Shen Yuanming was already getting used to it. He thought Ge Yan must have been too hurt by what happened last time, which was why she was acting a bit abnormal.
Just as he was about to say something more, the door behind him opened.
Cen Yan came out of the room, her face cold, and headed toward the bathroom.
Before entering, she glanced back at Ge Yan, her smile soft and sweet, but the indifference in her eyes was strikingly contradictory.
Ge Yan: “?”
Wait, why was she giving her that eerie smile?
Hold on…
No wonder, no wonder Shen Yuanming was pretending to care about her so early in the morning—it was just to make Cen Yan jealous!
Ge Yan rolled her eyes silently. She had become part of their little couple’s game.
Ge Yan turned and walked away.
From now on, whoever got involved with these two was a dog!
This was the second time Ge Yan had come to this small manor. She knocked on the door familiarly.
But unlike last time, the door remained closed for a long while.
Song Bojian was sitting in the courtyard feeding the fish. Perhaps they had eaten too many grapes, but the fish seemed to have little appetite today.
Suddenly hearing someone knock, Song Bojian glanced indifferently at the surveillance monitor in the distance.
The next second, his eyes froze.
On the screen was Ge Yan.
She was wearing a Klein blue high-neck sweater, her hair casually tied in a bun. With no makeup, she looked fresh and sweet, holding a box as she paced in front of the door.
Song Bojian was about to call for Zhang Butler, but he was afraid the person outside might hear his voice.
When he thought of calling, he remembered that Zhang Butler had returned to the company early that morning.
The remote control was in Song Bojian’s hand, but he didn’t dare open the door.
Outside, Ge Yan seemed to grow impatient and knocked a few more times.
With each knock, Song Bojian’s heart pounded heavily.
What should he do? What should he do?
This time, the sky had suddenly brightened, and there was no chance to hide again.
But why would Ge Yan suddenly come looking for him?
Ge Yan gently furrowed her delicate brows. Could it be that no one was home today?
Otherwise, they wouldn’t have left the door unanswered for so long.Ge Yan sighed, stroked the exquisitely crafted wooden box, and turned to leave.
But she hadn’t expected that Song Bojian, seeing Ge Yan about to leave, grew even more anxious in the courtyard.
Ge Yan rarely came over—how could he let her leave without even meeting her face-to-face?
It was no different from letting a duck that had already landed in his hands fly away.
Without a second thought, Song Bojian pressed the remote control.
Ge Yan had only taken a few steps when she heard a soft “click” from the door behind her.
Thinking she might have misheard, she turned around and saw that the door had indeed opened a small crack.
She immediately smiled, like an adorable little kitten, and quickly ran over to push the door open.
This time, she finally got a clear look at the man in the wheelchair.
Only his profile was visible.
The man was wearing a moon-white shirt, his silhouette slender and frail yet elegant as he sat by the fish pond.
His presence was an overlapping of extreme gentleness and extreme fragility, like an antique displayed on a pristine exhibition stand.
Ge Yan was momentarily captivated.
It wasn’tt until the man spoke coldly, “What is it?” that Ge Yan suddenly snapped back to reality. Her fingers, gripping the wooden box, had turned faintly white from the pressure.
Heavens, was she actually feeling socially anxious?
“Um… I wasn’t feeling well yesterday, and my friend borrowed some ginger tea from you. But seeing how extraordinary the box you used for the ginger tea was, I thought it might have been mistakenly sent along with it, so I came specifically to return it.”
As she spoke, Ge Yan felt a chill run down her spine.
For some reason, whenever she spoke to him, her voice unconsciously softened.
I’m really not some fake, pretentious person!
Ge Yan screamed inwardly.
She didn’t notice Song Bojian’s hand, resting at his side, clenching tightly and silently.
And how did Ge Yan know about this box…
“It’s just a worthless box. If it’s lost, it’s lost.”
Ge Yan was taken aback. No wonder this man was so generous—he was actually blind to its value, willing to discard such a precious box so casually.
He really doesn’t know its worth!
However, as a non-heritage blogger, Ge Yan still had some professional ethics. She felt it necessary to educate the owner of the box about the treasure he had mistakenly discarded.
Ge Yan was about to step forward, but Song Bojian slightly turned his face and looked at her.
Only then did Ge Yan clearly see his appearance. Describing him as an aloof, celestial being would be an understatement—even in the entertainment industry, his looks would stand out.
Just the ethereal aura he exuded was something ordinary people couldn’t compare to.
But noticing the hint of wariness on Song Bojian’s face, Ge Yan quickly stopped in her tracks.
The man averted his gaze, lowering his eyes, his long lashes like feathers.
“What are you doing?”
Ge Yan hurriedly explained, “Oh, I just wanted to confirm with you that this box isn’t worthless—it’s a collectible.”
“If you like it, you can keep it. No need to return it to me.”
Although the words were kind, Song Bojian’s tone was so cold that it felt somewhat dismissive.
Ge Yan quickly shook her head. “Mr. Song, that’s not what I meant. I just wanted to discuss it with you.”
A long time passed, and Song Bojian remained silent.
He had mentally prepared himself, rehearsing the opening lines for their meeting countless times, but when the moment finally arrived, he couldn’t speak.
Finally, he asked his first question.
“Do you also like mortise and tenon craftsmanship?”
Ge Yan’s eyes lit up with a smile, and she cautiously took a few steps closer.
“Yes, yes! The workmanship and quality of this box are top-notch, and it’s also quite old.”A faint citrus fragrance drifted to Song Bojian’s nose. The fingers resting on his lap tightened slightly, gripping the fabric of his clothes.
“Just stand there and speak. Don’t come any closer.”
If she came any closer, she would notice the slight tremble in his tense eyes.
Ge Yan stopped in her tracks. This handsome guy really was subzero cold—no one could step into his personal space. Ge Yan wisely halted where she stood.