24 – Lend a Hand
The temperature in the room suddenly rose, a wave of heat enveloping Wen Man’s entire body.
Wen Man’s breath seemed to skip a beat, her mind going completely blank.
A lingering dampness and warmth still remained on her lower back, spreading from that patch of skin, a scorching heat radiating throughout her body. Wen Man felt as if an electric current had surged through her, her scalp tingling.
Wen Yanchuan’s voice was low as he rose to leave. The bed, which had sunk under his weight, rebounded, and Wen Man felt the weight lift away. Driven by some inexplicable impulse, she grabbed hold of Wen Yanchuan’s sleeve.
“Don’t go.”
The words escaped Wen Man’s lips, startling even herself.
She hadn’t even needed to muster courage—it was just a spontaneous plea, unprocessed by her mind. Yet she had forgotten how audacious such words were in this vast villa, in this unfamiliar country.
Wen Yanchuan looked down at Wen Man, a flicker of faint surprise passing through his eyes before vanishing.
He was no longer surprised. Wen Man always managed to say or do bold things.
Wen Yanchuan gazed at the small hand clutching his sleeve, his eyelids lowering slightly.
That hand gripped him tightly, as if nervous, afraid he might leave. It exerted considerable force, wrinkling the fabric.
“No man would refuse such a plea from Miss Wen.”
Wen Man bit her lip. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want Mr. Wen to leave just yet.”
Wen Yanchuan chuckled softly and sat back down on the bed. “You were the one who called me here, and you were the one who tried to send me away. Now you don’t want me to leave. Wen Man, tell me, what should I do?”
Wen Man sat up, discreetly adjusting her nightgown under the covers. The wound on her lower back still throbbed faintly. She tucked her long hair behind her ear—a small gesture, yet it carried an unexpected allure.
This was the first time Wen Yanchuan had called her by her name. Wen Man liked the way he pronounced it; she found it pleasing to the ear, far more so than when he addressed her as “Miss Wen.”
“Mr. Wen, I feel like none of this is real.”
Wen Man’s eyelids lowered slightly, her voice as faint as a mosquito’s hum.
Wen Yanchuan let out a light laugh, teasing her. “Miss Wen’s reaction now isn’t as bold as it was earlier.”
Wen Man sighed in frustration. “Please don’t make fun of me, Mr. Wen.”
Wen Yanchuan’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he murmured a low “Hmm.” “What isn’t real?”
Wen Man hugged her knees, resting her chin gently on her arms. “Everything. Ever since that night in Paris, it’s felt like a dream. Tonight’s fireworks completely enchanted me. Mr. Wen, is this a dream?”
Wen Yanchuan turned to look at Wen Man. In the darkness, her eyes sparkled, fixed intently on him. He wanted to tell her it wasn’t a dream, but as the words reached his lips, he met her gaze and instantly understood what she truly meant.
Wen Man, of course, knew this wasn’t a dream.
What she really wanted to ask was: Wen Man had fallen into Wen Yanchuan’s dream, utterly captivated—but what came after?
Once Wen Yanchuan obtained what he wanted from her, would the dream shatter? What would become of her then?
That was the question Wen Man truly wanted to ask but couldn’t bring herself to voice.
Instead of answering directly, Wen Yanchuan asked her, “If it were, what would you do, Miss Wen?”
Wen Man lowered her eyes, her gaze filled with unconcealable disappointment. She had long anticipated that Wen Yanchuan would deflect the question back to her with such an evasive answer, but the truth was already quite obvious.
She truly had been wishfully thinking, even daring to covet Wen Yanchuan’s affection.
Wen Yanchuan and she were from two different worlds. A businessman like him probably never obsessed over the word “affection.” They acted solely based on what brought them “joy.”
But at this moment, Wen Man felt as though she had lost her original intentions. Yet, she had never been more clear-headed than she was now, because she knew exactly what she wanted.
She wanted to happily finish this dream.
Wen Man looked up at Wen Yanchuan and answered his question: “I think… I would do something very bold.”
After saying this, Wen Man released her knees and slowly moved to Wen Yanchuan’s side. She gently lifted her arms, resting them on his shoulders, almost encircling him. One leg rose lightly, straddling Wen Yanchuan’s thigh, and her hips settled softly but not fully.
A fragrance of iris mixed with jasmine swept over, enveloping Wen Yanchuan’s senses.
The soft sensation gradually pressed closer in his embrace. Wen Yanchuan’s breath hitched, and he instinctively leaned back, creating distance between them. He frowned slightly, his voice low.
“Wen Man!”
Wen Man’s hands rested on Wen Yanchuan’s shoulders, the strap of her dress slipping halfway down her arm.
“Mr. Wen, I like it when you call my name.”
Her head rested lightly on Wen Yanchuan’s shoulder. They were so close that she could even feel the slight movement as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, his entire body tense.
Wen Man closed her eyes slightly, leaning quietly against him, yet her body trembled.
Wen Yanchuan’s body tensed only for a moment—perhaps the sudden rush of fragrance had caught him off guard. But within a single breath, he had already regained his composure.
Wen Yanchuan noticed Wen Man’s slight trembling. His eyes darkened with emotion, knowing that such an act had exhausted the young woman’s courage.
She was afraid.
Everything just now had been like a bluff. She was like a paper tiger, fierce for only a moment before shrinking timidly into his embrace, not daring to move.
Wen Man didn’t even dare to sit fully on Wen Yanchuan’s lap. She strained her waist, barely supporting her weight, with only her head resting on his shoulder, her eyelashes trembling.
“Wen Man, sit down.”
Wen Yanchuan’s voice was low, carrying his unique magnetism.
Wen Man obeyed, gently settling her hips onto Wen Yanchuan’s lap.
The female star’s figure was exquisite. She was painfully thin, and Wen Yanchuan could hardly feel her weight.
His large hand encircled Wen Man’s waist—it was so slender he could wrap his hand around it with ease. With a slight tug, he pulled her forward, pressing her against his chest.
Wen Man obediently nestled there, not daring to make any move.
After a long silence in the air, Wen Man secretly lifted her head. In the darkness, she couldn’t see Wen Yanchuan’s expression hidden in the shadows, but she could glimpse the faint outline of his Adam’s apple through the light—an extremely seductive curve.
Wen Man raised her hand, her fingers lightly tracing his Adam’s apple, stroking it up and down.
Wen Yanchuan’s breathing hitched for a moment, unable to bear it any longer. He wrapped one arm around her waist and lifted Wen Man by her thigh, carrying her entire body against him as he stood up from the bed.
Wen Man gasped in surprise, quickly wrapping her arms tightly around Wen Yanchuan’s neck.
“Mr. Wen!”
Wen Yanchuan responded in a low voice, carrying her as he moved toward the door.
Wen Man grew anxious. There were servants throughout the villa, and she didn’t want anyone to see her clinging to Wen Yanchuan like this.
“Mr. Wen…! Where are you going?!”
Wen Yanchuan didn’t look at Wen Man, focused only on walking out. “A little girl stirred up my craving for a cigarette, but I don’t want to put her down right now.”
He reached the door, his tone utterly casual.
“Give me a hand and open the door.”