Cheng Xiyu had originally intended to have a meal at Jiang Shu’s place, but now that he had picked her up, he changed his mind.
He hadn’t paid much attention to Jiang Shu’s daily life. In the past, every time he saw her, his purpose was clear—to satisfy his physical needs. After returning to Nan City, his company kept him busy over the past two years, and the number of times he visited her could be counted on one hand.
Today, Jiang Shu carried a canvas bag and dressed simply, resembling a college student who hadn’t yet graduated. This reminded Cheng Xiyu of the first time he saw her—standing there, aloof and beautiful, completely unaware of the many eyes unconsciously lingering on her.
Especially in the bustling, lively hotpot restaurant, she seemed to shed her cool exterior. With a slight lift of her head and her hair gently swaying, she appeared both innocent and alluring, a stark contrast to her usual demeanor.
Like a little fox, she seemed timid yet enticing. If you didn’t approach, she would glance at you curiously. If you walked over and stroked her, she would retract her claws and obediently nuzzle your palm, offering a somewhat clumsy gesture of affection.
When she saw him, her eyes widened slightly, sparkling like starlight. He stood still, and Jiang Shu would run toward him—she was his little fox.
He ruffled her hair, feeling her breath and heartbeat—fast, racing fast. It was her heartbeat, yet it felt like his own…
Late at night, inside Central Mansion.
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The air fell into a brief silence, as if time had frozen. His eyes were dark and deep, like a whirlpool in a pond, pulling one into an endless descent…
Jiang Shu’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes tinged with red.
Outside the window, the wind gradually picked up, the sky darkened, and a light drizzle began to fall, pattering softly against the vibrant flower buds.
At such close proximity, their breaths intertwined. She gazed dazedly at his mesmerizingly handsome face.
It took a long while for her consciousness to surge back like a tide.
Jiang Shu gently bit Cheng Xiyu’s arm, like a fox cub not yet weaned.
Cheng Xiyu didn’t feel any pain—her small strength only made him itch, a sensation that seemed to seep deep into his heart.
How could she be so delicate?
Usually aloof and cool, she would act coy and beg for mercy at times like this. Now, she had even learned to bite…
Outside, the raindrops grew heavier and more urgent.
In the bedroom, under the warm yellow light, she looked at him with red-rimmed, teary eyes—her watery peach blossom eyes like a sweet, pleading snowcone.
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In the pitch-black night, Cheng Xiyu’s eyes held no emotion, while in hers, he saw boundless surrender and confusion.
The wall clock ticked steadily—it was already midnight.
Exhausted, Jiang Shu buried her head in the crook of his shoulder and fell into a deep sleep.
The bedroom was filled with warmth. Cheng Xiyu reached out and touched the corner of her eye. Jiang Shu, feeling a slight itch, unconsciously shifted away.
Cheng Xiyu watched her with a dark, unreadable gaze, lost in thought. After a long while, he held Jiang Shu close and drifted into a deep sleep.
Jiang Shu seemed to sense something. Her eyelids fluttered open wearily, her mind still hazy. Recognizing the person holding her, she wrapped her slender arms tightly around his neck and fell back into a peaceful slumber.
The next day was a weekend. The weather was gloomy, and by the time the two woke up, it was almost noon. Wang Ye knocked on the door to deliver a meal. After they ate, they each went about their own tasks.
A row of glass jars stood on the wooden shelf, two of which were already filled with strawberry wine she had sealed a couple of days earlier. Jiang Shu stared blankly for a moment. She had bought all the tools and ingredients in abundance, and there were still many empty glass jars left—she needed to fill them all.
If she brewed this many bottles of strawberry wine, surely at least one would turn out successful, right? There had to be at least one…
Cheng Xiyu held a video conference in the living room, starting right after lunch and continuing until dark.
By then, Jiang Shu had already prepared dinner. Steaming dishes were laid out on the table, their aroma filling the air. In a daze, the vast room no longer felt so empty; it had gained a touch of warmth and life.
She had made Water Boiled Beef and sour soup with fatty beef, stir-fried a plate of greens, and prepared a cold cucumber salad. By the time she finished tossing the cucumber, the potato and beef brisket stew was ready, its fragrance spreading through the kitchen. She had even set up a small stove to simmer a clear broth hotpot with corn, pork ribs, white mushrooms, Chinese yam, shredded kelp, and vegetables.
Cheng Xiyu set down his laptop, walked to the table, and pulled out a chair. “No need to make so much. It’s just the two of us—we won’t eat that much.”
Jiang Shu added more vegetables to the pot. “It’s fine. I made smaller portions. I just thought today’s weather was perfect for hotpot.”
She was always like this, wanting to give Cheng Xiyu the very best. Do all women become so selflessly devoted when they fall in love? Cheng Xiyu couldn’t understand it.
Outside, a light drizzle had begun to fall. This season was always misty and rainy, making one’s heart feel damp and hazy as well.
“Where did you learn to cook?” Cheng Xiyu asked casually.
“I knew how to cook since I was little, but it didn’t taste good back then. Later, in high school, I learned from a… friend.” He paused before adding, “He was very skilled—his cooking was delicious, and the wine he brewed… was also good.”
Cheng Xiyu lit a cigarette and nodded with a faint smile.
“A friend? Do you still keep in touch?” Cheng Xiyu thought about it. It seemed that ever since he had known Jiang Shu, she had always been alone, without any close friends. Aside from her seriously ill mother, she didn’t have any particularly close family members either. He pictured Jiang Shu learning to cook from someone else—diligently studying, even if there were things she didn’t understand, she wouldn’t speak up, only practicing secretly on her own.
“…We’re not in touch anymore. He… is very far away from me.” The distance of six floors—so close, yet worlds apart.
He asked, “A man?”
Jiang Shu came over, sat on his lap, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and nestled into his embrace, whispering, “Are you jealous?”
Cheng Xiyu gripped her small, delicate chin with his large hand and let out an emotionless chuckle. She always asked such girlish, meaningless questions. Sometimes, Cheng Xiyu couldn’t tell whether she was putting on an act in front of him or if she was genuinely naive enough to treat him as her boyfriend.
He usually couldn’t be bothered to answer these kinds of questions that only couples would ask.
These little romantic antics between lovers—what need was there for a mistress and her patron to play them out?
As long as he and she each got what they wanted, that was enough.