Perhaps it was because he had unusually overslept that morning, perhaps it was because the whispers in the company had reached his ears, or perhaps he simply felt that it was “indecent.”
In any case, during this period of time, he returned home every night, ate dinner, then went to the study to work. Around eleven, he would return to the bedroom, take a shower, go to bed, and turn off the lights.
Occasionally, he touched her.
But not in the way he had before—those exhausting nights that stretched into the early hours.
He no longer left marks on her.
Those bruises, those traces that once made her hesitate when changing clothes, never appeared again.
Wen Xi did not know what this meant.
She only knew that every time he pulled her into his arms in the dark, her heartbeat would quicken unconsciously, her body would soften unconsciously, and her fingers would unconsciously grip his shirt hem—not in rejection, but in silent response.
Then he would hold her for a while. Sometimes he would take her once, but it ended quickly.
Afterwards, he would get up, go to the bathroom, return, lie down again with his back to her, and his breathing would gradually even out.
Lying in the dark, Wen Xi listened to his breathing. That hollow feeling in her chest grew more and more obvious.
She told herself it was because she was “not used to it.”
Those first few days had been too intense; the sudden restraint simply made her body unaccustomed. Nothing more than that. Nothing else.
One evening during dinner, Wen Xi brought up the flower shop location on her own.
“Oh right,”
She set down her chopsticks, took her phone out of her pocket, opened an address, and handed it to Fu Linfeng.
“The flower shop is on this street, about two hundred meters east from that intersection.”
Fu Linfeng took the phone and glanced at it. His brows moved slightly.
“Lin’an Road?” he said, returning the phone to her. “That’s the same street as Fu Corporation.”
“Yes,” Wen Xi nodded, her eyes brightening slightly.
“It’s right across from your company. About five or six minutes on foot. Manman said the location is good—there are office buildings nearby, a lot of foot traffic…”
What she did not say was that when she chose the location, a thought had indeed crossed her mind—it was close to Fu Group Corporation, so it might benefit from the flow of people there.
But she did not dare say it. She was afraid he would think she was exploiting his name.
Fu Linfeng took a sip of tea, his tone calm.
“The location is good. That area has many office buildings and concentrated white-collar workers. It’s a good choice for a flower shop.”
Wen Xi paused slightly, not expecting such an objective evaluation.
“And also,”
Fu Linfeng set down his cup and looked at her, the corners of his lips lifting faintly—very subtle.
“Being near Fu Group Corporation, you might benefit quite a bit. Thousands of employees. Even if a small portion supports your business, your little flower shop will be overwhelmed.”
Wen Xi blinked.
Then she realized—was he joking?
Although the joke was as cold as if it had been taken straight out of a freezer, it was still a joke.
Fu Linfeng, President of Fu Group Corporation, was actually joking with her.
She could not help but smile, gaining a bit of courage.
“That’s exactly what I thought,” she said naturally.
“When I picked the location. Your employees go past my shop every day. If they casually buy a bouquet, I’ll be rich.”
Fu Linfeng looked at her, one brow lifting slightly.
“Oh? So you targeted Fu Corporation employees?”
“Of course.”
Wen Xi nodded seriously.
“President Fu’s employees are high-quality, high-income, and have good taste. They are my ideal customers. In a way, I should thank you. If you hadn’t placed your company there, I wouldn’t have found such a good location.”
Looking at her deliberately serious expression, the corners of Fu Linfeng’s mouth lifted a little more.
“Your mouth is sweet,” he said lightly. “Who taught you that?”
Wen Xi felt a little embarrassed. Her ears warmed slightly, and she lowered her head, poking at her rice.
“I’m just telling the truth…” she muttered.
Fu Linfeng did not continue speaking.
But when he picked up his chopsticks again, his movements were slightly slower than usual, as if savoring something.
Wen Xi kept her head down, but her heartbeat was faster than before.
She did not know where she had gotten the courage to speak like that—perhaps because he had softened a little over the past half month, perhaps because the flower shop had given her confidence, or perhaps because she was no longer as afraid of him.
After dinner, as usual, Fu Linfeng went to the study.
Wen Xi sat in the living room for a while, scrolling through photos of the flower shop on her phone. Picture by picture—from rough construction to finished interior—she felt a quiet fullness in her chest.
Then she did something she would never have dared to do before.
She selected a few photos and sent them to Fu Linfeng on WeChat.
“The flower shop is finished. Does it look good?”
After sending it, she immediately regretted it.
He was so busy—how would he have time for this? Even if he saw it, he would probably just reply with a single “Mm,” or not reply at all.
She placed her phone face down on the sofa armrest and went to pour herself a glass of water.
When she returned, the screen lit up.
She picked it up.
Fu Linfeng had replied.
“Not bad.”
Just two words. Clean and concise, very Fu Group style.
But Wen Xi stared at those two words for a long time, the corners of her mouth lifting higher and higher.
She locked the screen, unlocked it again, locked it, unlocked it again—repeating it several times to make sure she was not seeing things.
Then she sent another message:
“Thank you for President Fu’s approval! I’ll invite you to the opening ribbon-cutting ceremony!”
After sending it, she felt she had gone too far and quickly added:
“Just kidding. You’re too busy—you don’t need to come.”
Fu Linfeng did not reply again.
Wen Xi did not mind. She put her phone in her pocket and went upstairs humming softly.
That night, when Fu Linfeng returned to the bedroom, Wen Xi was sitting against the headboard reading her notebook.
She looked up at him when she heard the footsteps.
After hesitating for a moment, she spoke.
“Um… I have something to tell you.”
“What is it?” he asked while unfastening his cufflinks.
“I want to buy an electric scooter.”
His fingers paused slightly.
“Old Zhou picking me up every day is too troublesome,” she explained quickly.
“And the flower shop isn’t far. It’s about ten minutes by bike along the riverside road. It’s very safe. Mainly—”
She lowered her voice a little.
“It’s too noticeable with a car. President Fu’s cars are never low-profile. When it stops at the intersection, a lot of people look. I’m afraid Manman might see.”
Fu Linfeng looked at her silently for a few seconds.
Her expression was careful, as if she was making a request that might be refused.
He thought for a moment.
Perhaps she was his wife in name, yet riding an electric scooter to work would look improper.
But at the same time, she was right.
His cars were indeed too conspicuous.
She did not want attention. She did not want her identity exposed.
There was nothing wrong with that.
She was trying to do something—something of her own.
He did not want to spoil it.
“Alright.”
“But be careful. The riverside road has no streetlights. You must come back before dark.”
Wen Xi froze slightly, not expecting him to agree so easily.
“And also,”
Fu Linfeng placed his cufflinks on the bedside table.
“Buy a better one.”
“Okay!” Wen Xi’s voice immediately brightened. She sat up straight.
“I’ll go look tomorrow! I’ll get a safe one!”
Fu Linfeng glanced at her.
Her lips were lifted so high she looked like she might run out immediately to buy it.
“Don’t be happy too early,” he said as he turned toward the bathroom.
“If anything happens, you won’t be allowed to ride it again.”