The black Maybach sped steadily through the night, an oppressive silence filling the car.
Wen Yan was wrapped in Li Yanzhou’s suit jacket. The oversized garment enveloped her completely, covering the glaring mess on her gown but unable to mask the lingering scent of red wine or her lingering embarrassment.
Curled up in the passenger seat, she kept her eyes lowered, her long lashes casting shadows beneath them. Her face remained somewhat pale.
Li Yanzhou focused on driving, his profile appearing stern and tense under the flickering lights outside the window. The intimidating aura he had displayed at the hotel earlier had receded, but a trace of coldness lingered between his brows.
The silence stretched on for so long that Wen Yan could almost hear her own racing heartbeat.
Finally, she sniffled, her voice slightly hoarse from crying, breaking the stillness.
“Actually… you didn’t have to terminate the cooperation with the Li family because of me.”
She knew the Li family might not be a core partner for the Li Group, but suddenly ending all collaborations would inevitably cause a stir and might bring unnecessary trouble. She didn’t understand much about business, but she grasped the basic stakes.
In her view, paying such a price for a moment of humiliation seemed excessive.
Li Yanzhou’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on the steering wheel.
He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze still fixed on the road illuminated by the headlights.
After a moment, he spoke, his voice deeper than usual, carrying an unyielding coldness.
“This isn’t because of you.”
He paused, as if organizing his thoughts or suppressing some emotion.
“The Li family has become increasingly reckless in recent years. What happened today was merely the trigger.”
His voice steadied, returning to its usual tone of calm analysis. “The Li Group doesn’t need such partners. Terminating the cooperation is a decision based on business interests. It has nothing to do with tonight.”
Wen Yan listened, unsure of what she felt, and merely responded with a soft “Mm,” turning her face toward the window.
Perhaps it was better this way—letting the matter return to the “business” level. That way, the unwarranted flutter in her heart stirred by his public defense might settle down.
The car entered the villa and came to a stop.
The two got out and walked into the quiet, empty house one after the other.
The lights automatically turned on, illuminating the spacious living room and the expensive gown on Wen Yan, ruined by red wine.
“Go take a shower first,” Li Yanzhou said to Wen Yan, his tone returning to its usual flatness. “Just throw the dress away.”
“Okay.” Wen Yan didn’t look at him, keeping her head down as she hurried toward the stairs.
All she wanted now was to wash away the stickiness, the smell of wine, and the humiliating memories as quickly as possible.
The warm water flowed over her body, washing away fatigue and discomfort but unable to disperse the complex emotions in her heart—the humiliation, the embarrassment, and a faint flutter stirred by his unwavering defense and that solid embrace.
She stayed under the water for a long time, until her skin began to wrinkle, before drying off and changing into a conservative cotton nightgown.
Looking at her still slightly reddened eyes in the mirror, she rubbed her face hard, trying to restore her expression to calm.
When Wen Yan stepped out of the bathroom, Li Yanzhou had already changed out of his formal evening suit and was wearing a dark gray silk robe. He stood by the bedroom window, his back to her, gazing out at the deep night.
Hearing her movement, he turned around.
Under the light, his expression had softened slightly compared to earlier, but the fatigue in his eyes and a certain deep emotion remained clear.
Wen Yan walked to the bedside but did not get in immediately.
She hesitated for a moment, unconsciously tightening her fingers around the hem of her nightgown. She looked up at Li Yanzhou, her voice soft and tinged with a hint of awkwardness that was difficult to voice:
“There’s something… I want to mention.”
Li Yanzhou looked at her without speaking, only gesturing with his eyes for her to continue.
Wen Yan pursed her lips, avoiding his gaze as she stared at the floor:
“I… I might not sleep very soundly at night.”
She recalled the awkwardness of waking up pressed together this morning, her ears growing slightly warm.
“Last night… I’m sorry. If you mind… I can sleep in the guest room.”
Li Yanzhou watched her quietly.
She kept her head lowered, the tips of her ears tinged with a faint pink.
The room fell silent for a few seconds.
Then, she heard his calm, even voice:
“No need.”
Wen Yan looked up in surprise, meeting his eyes.
Li Yanzhou’s gaze met hers, devoid of any particular emotion, only a deep, tranquil stillness.
“I don’t mind,” he added, his tone still even. “You can sleep in the master bedroom. The guest room hasn’t been prepared, and it wouldn’t be convenient.”
“…Alright,” she finally murmured in response, pulling back the covers and lying down on her side of the bed, still keeping as close to the edge as possible, her back turned to him.
The soft mattress cradled her tired body, but the nerves that had been tense all evening did not fully relax.
She closed her eyes, unable to stop the fragments of the evening from replaying in her mind—the probing glances, Miss Li’s sharp words, the sensation of cold wine splashing on her, and finally, Li Yanzhou’s icy, intimidating declaration and his firm, warm embrace…
A tumult of emotions churned within her, leaving her wide awake.
The room was quiet, with only the small nightlight on her side casting a faint, warm glow.
She could sense Li Yanzhou still standing somewhere in the room, his presence unmistakable and impossible to ignore.
Suddenly, his voice broke the silence.
“Go to sleep.”
Wen Yan’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, but she did not open her eyes or respond, maintaining her position as if already asleep.
Then, she heard steady footsteps heading toward the bathroom.
The door opened and closed softly.
A few seconds later, the clear sound of running water came from inside.
He… was going to take a shower.
Wen Yan kept her eyes closed, but her hearing was involuntarily drawn to the sound of the water.
Lying in the darkness, she slowly relaxed.
The sound of the water seemed to carry a strange, soothing power, washing away the chaotic images and emotions in her mind.
The clean, crisp scent of the room lingered in the air, mingled with a faint hint of cedarwood.
After some time, the sound of water stopped, and the sound of the bathroom door opening was particularly clear in the quiet bedroom.
Li Yanzhou emerged, carrying the warmth and moisture of the shower and the crisp scent of cedarwood. He wore the dark gray silk robe, its belt loosely tied, his hair still damp with droplets of water.
He walked to the bedside, about to lie down, when he noticed Wen Yan, who was facing away from him, shift almost imperceptibly. Her curled-up posture relaxed slightly before quickly returning to its original state, yet the line of her shoulders lacked the complete relaxation of deep sleep.
She wasn’t asleep yet.
Li Yanzhou paused as he prepared to get into bed.
He recalled the events of the evening, the redness around her eyes and the slight trembling of her shoulders.
He remained silent for a few seconds, not immediately turning off his bedside lamp. Instead, he leaned against the headboard, his gaze fixed on her back as she lay facing away from him.
The dim, warm light outlined her slender shoulders and the soft contours of her hair.
The room was quiet, with only the faint hum of the air conditioner.
“Wen Yan,” he spoke, his voice lower than usual, slightly hoarse from the shower, clear in the silence.
The figure on the bed seemed to stir again lightly, but she didn’t turn around or respond, as if hesitating whether to “wake up.”
Li Yanzhou simply continued calmly, “Do you have work tomorrow?”
His question was ordinary, like a husband casually asking his wife about her plans for the next day before bed.
Hearing his question, Wen Yan knew he had noticed she was still awake.
She slowly turned over, lying flat on her back, her eyes adjusting to the dim light as she looked toward him.
Li Yanzhou leaned against the headboard, his profile sharply defined in the interplay of light and shadow. His expression was calm, revealing no particular emotion, as if simply waiting for her answer.
“I don’t have work tomorrow,” she replied softly, her voice muffled from lying down.
“I made plans with a friend to go shopping,” she added, as if informing him.
“Mm,” Li Yanzhou acknowledged, offering no opinion on her plans, merely following up with, “I have things to take care of at the company tomorrow and need to head in early.”
He paused, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment before shifting away, settling somewhere in the empty space. His tone remained even as he added, “I’ll try to be quiet so I don’t wake you. You can sleep in a bit longer.”
This remark, like his earlier “sleep well,” carried a kind of instinctive consideration—perhaps even unnoticed by himself—or maybe it was just a matter of courtesy…
A faint, strange feeling flickered through Wen Yan’s heart, but she quickly suppressed it.
She nodded. “Alright, thank you.”
Li Yanzhou reached out and turned off his bedside lamp. The room instantly darkened, leaving only the faint glow of Wen Yan’s nightlight.
“Sleep well,” he said as he lay down, adjusting his position. His voice, softer now, came from the darkness.
“Mm,” Wen Yan closed her eyes again.
This time, perhaps because the brief conversation had dispelled some of the gloom in her heart, or perhaps because her exhaustion had reached its peak, her breathing soon became even and steady as she truly sank into sleep.
Listening to the gradually steady breathing beside him, Li Yanzhou slowly closed his eyes.
The night was deep, and all was silent. In the master bedroom, the two slept peacefully, separated by the expanse of the bed, sharing the same tranquil darkness.