Early the next morning, sunlight squeezed through the gap in the curtains, drawing a golden line across the carpet.
Wen Xi groggily opened her eyes and habitually reached toward the other side of the bed—
There was warmth.
She froze for a moment and turned her head.
Fu Linfeng was still lying in bed.
He was lying on his back with one hand tucked behind his head, eyes closed, breathing slow and even.
The blanket only covered him up to his waist, exposing his lean and toned upper body. The morning light fell across his collarbone, casting a small shadow beneath his Adam’s apple.
Wen Xi stared blankly.
This was the first time she had woken up in the morning and found him still beside her.
The previous days, every time she opened her eyes, the other side of the bed had long been empty, without even a trace of lingering warmth.
He had overslept.
Fu Linfeng, the President of Fu Group Corporation—the man who woke up punctually at six every morning, left the house at seven, and had never once been late—
Had overslept.
Wen Xi stared at the side of his face for several seconds.
When he was asleep, he looked different from when he was awake.
His brows were no longer furrowed, and his lips were no longer pressed into a cold, hard line. He looked much softer, even a little… handsome.
She hurriedly shook the thought out of her mind, rolled over to face the window, and turned her back toward him.
She could not look.
Looking would make it too easy to soften her heart. And if her heart softened, it would be too easy to forget how shamelessly he had taken advantage of the situation last night.
A faint rustling sound came from behind her—
He was awake.
Fu Linfeng opened his eyes, glanced at the ceiling, then at the sunlight outside the window. His brows furrowed slightly.
He reached for the phone on the bedside table and checked the time—
Seven forty.
He was late.
Or rather, he was about to be late.
He sat up, the blanket slipping down to his waist.
Turning his head, he looked toward the other side of the bed.
Wen Xi was curled up by the window with her back facing him, wrapped tightly in the blanket, only a small portion of her shoulder exposed.
There were several faint red marks on that shoulder.
Marks he had left behind last night.
His gaze lingered there for a second before shifting away.
“What time is it?” Wen Xi’s voice came muffled from beneath the blanket, carrying a trace of deliberate distance.
“Seven forty.”
“Oh.”
She responded softly but did not turn around or say anything more.
Fu Linfeng glanced at her back.
Her shoulders were slightly tense, her whole body hidden beneath the blanket—
Clearly awake, yet deliberately refusing to look at him.
The corner of his lips moved faintly, but he said nothing. He lifted the blanket and got out of bed, walking into the dressing room.
A while later, his voice came from inside, calm and matter-of-fact.
“Come here.”
Wen Xi’s body stiffened beneath the blanket.
“Help me get dressed.”
Wen Xi turned over in disbelief and stared toward the dressing room.
He said it so naturally, as if he were giving the most ordinary instruction in the world.
Her face instantly burned—
Not from embarrassment, but from anger.
Why should she?
She almost blurted out, “Can’t you dress yourself?” but swallowed the words back down.
Because of the two hundred thousand yuan.
Because he had agreed to that matter last night.
Because every cent she spent belonged to him.
The phrase “taking from others leaves you indebted” crashed over her like cold water, extinguishing the sparks of irritation that had just risen inside her.
Wen Xi gritted her teeth and threw off the blanket.
Her legs were still weak. The moment her feet touched the carpet, her knees buckled slightly, and she nearly lost her balance.
She steadied herself against the bedside table for a second, took a deep breath, then dragged her sore body toward the dressing room.
Fu Linfeng stood in front of the full-length mirror wearing only a pair of suit pants, his upper body bare.
His figure was even better than she had imagined—
Broad, level shoulders; a narrow waist; not a trace of excess fat. A faint line of muscle ran beneath his collarbone, especially distinct beneath the morning light.
Wen Xi looked only once before quickly looking away.
She walked up to him with her head lowered, refusing to look at him directly.
The shirt hung neatly on a hanger. Dark blue, with silver cufflinks at the sleeves.
She reached out, took it down, unfolded it, and stood on tiptoe to help him put it on.
She had never dressed anyone before.
Her movements were awkward and clumsy.
One arm went in, but the other got stuck in the sleeve cuff. Half the collar was flipped properly while the back remained crumpled. She started buttoning from the second button, only to realize at the third that she had skipped one and had to undo everything and start over.
Her fingers moved clumsily across his chest. Occasionally, her fingertips brushed against his warm skin, causing her to jerk back as if electrocuted before forcing herself to continue.
Fu Linfeng looked down at her silently.
Her hair was messy, one side flattened and sticking up from sleep while the other draped loosely over her shoulders.
The blush on her face had not fully faded yet, and faint dark circles lingered beneath her eyes—
She had not slept well last night.
The pale pink pajamas hung wrinkled around her body. Only two buttons at the collar were fastened, revealing scattered marks of varying shades across her collarbone.
She lowered her head seriously, concentrating on the fourth button, brows slightly knitted together, lips unconsciously pursed as though she were trying to solve an extremely difficult math problem.
Looking at her, Fu Linfeng suddenly thought—
He did not seem to dislike this scene.
A woman who did not even know how to dress someone properly stood awkwardly in front of him, like a little bird trying hard to learn how to fly.
She was clearly unwilling.
Her legs were clearly still weak.
She could have come up with a hundred excuses to refuse.
Yet she still came.
Because she wanted that flower shop.
Because she wanted to help her friend.
Because she was Wen Xi.
“Done.”
Wen Xi finally fastened the last button, smoothed out the collar, and stepped back to examine her work.
The shirt was on properly. Slightly crooked, but acceptable overall.
Then she picked up the tie and stood on tiptoe to loop it around his neck.
She was even worse at tying ties.
She had only searched for tutorials on her phone before and had never actually tried doing it herself.
She looped it once, then again, and then got stuck—
She had no idea which opening it was supposed to go through.
She tried once. Wrong.
She undid it and tried again. Wrong again.
The tips of her ears grew redder and redder. Her fingers became clumsier, and even her breathing turned hurried.
Fu Linfeng suddenly reached out and caught her wrist.
Wen Xi froze and looked up.
His palm was dry and warm as it wrapped around her slender wrist. The force was light, yet it completely stilled her.
“Wrap it twice, pass it through from the back, then tuck it in.”
His voice was low.
There was no ridicule and no impatience.
Only calm instruction.
Holding her hand, he guided her through the final step.
His fingers were long and strong, the joints clearly defined. He guided her fingers as they pushed the tie knot neatly to the collar before finally releasing her.
Wen Xi lowered her hands and took a step back, lowering her head again without looking at him.
The tie was not especially pretty. It was slightly crooked, and the knot was too small.
But it was the most special tie he had ever worn.
Fu Linfeng glanced at himself in the mirror and adjusted the knot slightly.
Then he turned around and looked down at the little woman standing before him with lowered head, red ears, and messy hair.
“Not bad,” he said.
Wen Xi did not raise her head. The only thing on her mind was:
Now that she was done, he should hurry up and leave instead of standing there talking.
Fu Linfeng seemed to see right through her thoughts.
The corner of his lips curved slightly before he spoke in a casual tone, as if mentioning something insignificant.
“You performed well. I agreed to the flower shop matter.”