16 – “But I’d only do this kind of thing with my wife”
Song Yuan bolted upright, staring at the unfamiliar furnishings around her before remembering where she was lying.
The chief instructor hadn’t returned since going out last night.
She’d fallen asleep here.
Given the current situation—especially Huo Yuzhou, who had never contacted her before, suddenly sending a message like he was checking up on her—a wave of guilt washed over her mind, as if she’d done something wrong.
Song Yuan suppressed the unease in her chest before replying, 【I’m filming a show.】
Fortunately, Huo Yuzhou didn’t press further.
Their conversation ended there.
Song Yuan thought he must be sick or something, sending her a text out of nowhere and making her anxious first thing in the morning.
After washing up, Song Yuan left the bedroom to find the room already empty.
Only a steaming bowl of savory tofu pudding and steamed buns sat on the dining table.
Song Yuan’s eyes lit up at the sight.
Savory tofu pudding—her lifelong love!
There was an old breakfast shop run by an elderly grandma in the alleyways of the old district in the capital, a long-established brand. Elder Song had taken her there since she was a child.
Over time, Song Yuan still found herself craving it from time to time.
However, the shop’s business hours were short—usually from five to nine in the morning, and the customers were mostly elderly.
Song Yuan could never get up at that hour, so she could only keep the craving in her heart.
Or she’d have to wait until the old man called her over for breakfast to satisfy her craving.
Elder Song also had a habit: whenever he wanted to see someone, he’d arrange a breakfast meeting.
Back when he was doing business, it was the same—anyone who wanted to meet him would do so at seven or eight in the morning.
That way, alcohol was avoided.
Elder Song had only ever been devoted to one person in his life—his wife, Yang Nian. He deferred to her in everything, supporting her, guiding her, and responding to her in every matter.
Whenever anyone brought up the difference in their social status, Elder Song always stood in front of his wife, shielding her from all the gossip and criticism.
He never interfered with her career, only offering guidance and analysis when problems arose—like a mentor.
But in matters of the heart, the roles were reversed; Yang Nian was the one who led him.
However, a few years ago, Yang Nian passed away from illness.
During that time, the always-steadfast Elder Song suddenly collapsed.
He was consumed by grief.
Song Yuan scooped up a spoonful of tofu pudding—it tasted exactly like the grandma’s!
She thought about how the journey from here to the capital took several hours, and then you’d have to detour through the old district’s alleyways. Even if someone brought it back, it would have gone cold and lost its flavor by then.
Not to mention going through all that trouble just for a breakfast.
While Song Yuan was still puzzling over it, the sound of the facial recognition lock at the door suddenly came through.
Huo Yuzhou walked in, took out a medical kit from the cabinet, and placed the red flower oil on the coffee table, saying, “Remember to apply it on yourself after you finish eating.”
Song Yuan looked at him. “Aren’t you going to eat something?”
Huo Yuzhou, grabbing a bottle of mineral water from the fridge, said, “Already ate.”
Song Yuan couldn’t help but ask out of curiosity, “Did you buy this tofu pudding?”
Huo Yuzhou replied, “The restaurant made it.”
Song Yuan was taken aback. The restaurant made it?
She remembered the tofu pudding at the restaurant didn’t taste like this.
Song Yuan pressed on, “Are you sure it’s from the restaurant? Why does it taste different from before?”
Huo Yuzhou said, “They changed the staff.”
Song Yuan knew about this.
When she’d chatted with A Dong about the restaurant’s food, she’d heard that the restaurant swapped out its staff every half month, with different people handling breakfast, lunch, and dinner—and every chef was top-tier.
But Song Yuan knew it was too hard to pry information out of him, so she decided to drop it and just text Xu Su directly to ask what the new chef was like.
Huo Yuzhou added, “Change your clothes after you finish eating.”
Song Yuan looked down at herself.
Last night, she couldn’t find any change of clothes after her shower, so she’d grabbed a white shirt from his wardrobe.
“Don’t you like how it looks?” Song Yuan asked him deliberately.
After all, he hadn’t had the chance to feast his eyes on this last night.
Huo Yuzhou glanced at her. “It’s alright.”
Alright?
Song Yuan couldn’t believe her ears.
Her figure was the sexiest in the industry—no contest.
When had she ever been subjected to such an insult?
Song Yuan pushed herself up from the table and stood. “Chief instructor, is it that you’ve never tasted swan meat and don’t know what it’s like?”
Song Yuan never dwelled on self-doubt. Whenever she was challenged, she always assumed it was the other person’s problem and never second-guessed herself.
Huo Yuzhou unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and looked at her. “What’s it like?”
Huo Yuzhou stared at her, his pupils like a swirling mass of black fog that never dispersed.
For a brief moment, Song Yuan caught a flicker of familiarity in his gaze—like a black serpent coiled in stillness, ready to bare its fangs and swallow her whole at any moment.
She fell silent, then sat back down and scooped spoonfuls of tofu pudding into her mouth without another word.
Seeing that she’d settled down, Huo Yuzhou said nothing more.
After breakfast, Song Yuan, nursing her foot injury, watched a movie on the couch while Huo Yuzhou stayed in the study handling his affairs.
The two kept to themselves.
Evening.
Song Yuan received a call from a luxury brand’s boutique.
They said her custom-made high heels and new autumn arrivals had come in, and asked whether she wanted them delivered or would prefer to come to the store to take a look first.
Song Yuan was a permanent VIP member. Whenever new products launched, she would go to the store to pick them out first, and the brand would arrange for a model of similar build and height to try them on so she could see the effect.
But this time, she had no time to go out at all.
So, Song Yuan simply called Gu Wushuang and asked her to help pick something out.
On the other end of the line, Gu Wushuang was just bored with nothing to do. She agreed without a second thought and drove her brother’s brand-new car, which he’d only gotten a few days ago, straight to the mall boutique.
But as luck would have it, she spotted Wen Ning in the neighboring brand store.
Gu Wushuang’s lips curled into a smirk.
Wen Ning wasn’t from their circle, but driven by a certain vanity, she forced her way in anyway.
She’d latched onto quite a few of the capital’s second-generation heirs, even He Chuan, Lu Cheng, and her own brother Gu Sixu hadn’t escaped—she was dead set on climbing the social ladder and turning herself into a phoenix.
Yet, she hadn’t managed to snag a single one.
They all saw right through her intentions like a clear mirror.
And Wen Ning had always been the same—
Back in their days at North City First High, she’d play the sycophant to their faces while gossiping behind their backs, especially targeting Lin Zhi, who seemed fragile and gentle on the surface.
Once, when the driver sent to pick up Song Yuan arrived late, she—who had always been curious about the fights frequently reported at the alley entrance near the school—decided to go check out the scene. Lin Zhi, who was more timid by nature, tagged along.
Who would’ve thought they’d catch Wen Ning in the act of slandering Lin Zhi?
Song Yuan barely listened to a few words before walking up with a cold face, grabbing Wen Ning by the hair and slamming her against the wall. “Didn’t your dad teach you how to be a decent person?”
“Your mouth’s that filthy?”
“You usually drink enema solution like it’s water, huh?”
Wen Ning, her scalp burning with pain, knew Song Yuan’s family background was formidable, so she just screamed apologies at her.
Song Yuan asked, “Don’t know who you’re slandering?”
Wen Ning apologized to Lin Zhi over and over again.
It wasn’t until the driver called looking for them that Song Yuan pulled Lin Zhi out of there.
From that day on, the feud between Song Yuan and Wen Ning was set.
At this moment, as Gu Wushuang paused to observe, she caught sight of a man’s figure sitting on the sofa.
She’d heard Wen Ning got married a few years ago, and Gu Wushuang was curious to see who exactly had taken that bait.
She stepped forward a few paces, took a look, and the smile on her face instantly froze.
Tan Yanchuan?