Returning from the market, the rough road no longer seemed so difficult to walk.
Why?
Because everything was in Gu Ye’s hands.
Large and small packages hanging from his arms—Lin Wan couldn’t help but glance at those long, strong arms, the muscles flexed in smooth, defined lines from the effort.
She stole a few more looks and even felt the urge to reach out and touch them.
But with the world being what it was, it wouldn’t look good, and she was afraid of provoking Gu Ye’s temper again.
Sigh… when will I finally be able to get him fully in my hands?
She’d lived two lifetimes, and her only hobby was eating a bit of meat.
…
The air carried a faint scent of mine soil; they weren’t far from the mining area.
Lin Wan quickened her pace to catch up.
“Gu Ye, you don’t mind me spending so much, do you?”
“No.”
In his mind, whether he had his memories or not, spending money on a woman was a natural duty and responsibility.
Men who begrudged women spending money were just losers who couldn’t earn it.
People only nitpick over things they don’t own, suspicious as if every woman in the world was coveting their money.
“Really? Don’t just say one thing and mean another in your heart.”
Gu Ye glanced at himself, nearly buried under all the things he was carrying. If she bought anything more, he probably couldn’t even carry it back.
“Do you want to check what you’re saying? From start to finish, I didn’t show the slightest reluctance to pay, right? And you didn’t hesitate a bit while buying stuff.”
Lin Wan snorted.
“Just because you think that way doesn’t mean everyone else does.”
No need to guess—if they were seen returning like this, it would definitely spark another gossip storm.
Gu Ye understood what she meant:
“What does it matter to others? Life is lived behind closed doors. As long as you’re happy… or are you really that concerned about what others think?”
“Of course I’m not concerned. It’s just about reputation.”
Gu Ye fell silent for a moment.
“Do I look like someone with a good reputation?”
Lin Wan: “…”
Irresponsible, delinquent, ruthless… most of the words people used to describe Gu Ye certainly weren’t complimentary.
“You worry for nothing. Even if my reputation is bad, I’ve got your back.” After saying this, Gu Ye walked ahead.
His silhouette remained tall and rigid, like a moving shield protecting her from all unknown dangers ahead.
Watching him, Lin Wan felt her survival anxiety strangely ease.
The lingering sweetness of the sesame candy she had just eaten left her mood lighter than it had been in a long time.
Gu Ye walked ahead steadily, maintaining a half-step distance from her like a silent guardian.
His keen hearing caught her light, brisk steps, and for a moment, the corner of his cold mouth softened almost imperceptibly.
When they finally saw the mine’s gate from afar, Lin Wan stopped.
She took the last piece of sesame candy from the wax paper, quickened her pace to match Gu Ye, then, without asking, broke off a large piece and shoved it into his mouth.
“Here, the last piece, it’s for you.”
She tilted her face up, eyes curved in a lively sparkle reminiscent of the market.
Gu Ye froze, watching her hands clap over the sticky, partially melted sugar crumbs, unsure what to think.
The overly sweet taste… strangely, he didn’t dislike it.
A car engine roared from afar, approaching quickly. A small car kicked up dust as it passed them.
The speed wasn’t fast. Lin Wan glanced instinctively at it. The sunlight reflected off the window, making it hard to see inside, but she vaguely sensed a scrutinizing gaze directed toward them—calm, assessing.
Gu Ye noticed the car too, his gaze lingering briefly before returning to normal.
When they reached the mine gate, the car they had just passed had stopped by the side of the road.
Director Liu stepped out from the passenger side, walking around to help the bedraggled Wang Manli out.
Wang Manli’s arm was in a sling, her forehead bandaged, her face pale.
The jeep’s rear window was rolled halfway down, and it seemed someone was still sitting inside.
As for Wang Manli—yesterday she had maliciously slandered Lin Wan for being injured, and today she got her comeuppance.
Lin Wan’s steps faltered, surprise flashing in her eyes.
She instinctively looked at Gu Ye.
What a coincidence?
She didn’t believe it had nothing to do with Gu Ye.
Gu Ye’s face remained expressionless, his cold, rigid demeanor unreadable.
At that moment, Lin Wan felt the gaze again—from the back seat of the car.
Calm, assessing, emotionless.
She had thought it was Wang Manli on the road earlier, but now she realized the source was someone else entirely.
The gaze shifted between her and Gu Ye, indistinct in its focus.
Director Liu also noticed them, his usual smile on his face: “Comrade Gu Ye, out for a trip?”
His eyes scanned Lin Wan and her things. “And this comrade?”
“Family,” Gu Ye answered curtly, blocking further inquiry.
Only then did Wang Manli truly see them.
Her gaze locked onto Gu Ye and the huge pile of things he carried. Grievance, resentment, and pain surged, her voice trembling: “Gu Ye…”
But he ignored her completely.
She glared at Lin Wan next, noticing her hands were empty and her demeanor light, which stung her eyes.
“Buying so much… do you think other people’s money grows on trees? What a poor little miser, how dare you…”
Lin Wan didn’t reply. Instead, she reached out, gently linking her arm with Gu Ye’s, moving closer.
Gu Ye’s muscles tensed instantly—not in rejection, but in instinctive alertness.
Yet he didn’t pull back. Instead, he adjusted his stance slightly to let her hold on more securely.
“Comrade Wang Manli, you jest,” Lin Wan smiled gently.
“My man cares for me and is willing to spend money on me—that’s only natural, isn’t it?”
She shifted her words with intent: “If you’re jealous, you can find a man willing to spend on you—but remember, don’t covet someone already taken…”
“Or karma will catch up with you.”
Wang Manli’s face turned deathly pale, chest heaving violently, finger trembling as she pointed at Lin Wan’s nose:
“You… you shameless brat, what did you say?!”
She rushed forward, forgetting caution, raising her hand to strike.
Almost at the same moment, Gu Ye moved.
He yanked Lin Wan behind him, fully shielding her. His presence instantly turned icy and overwhelmingly imposing.
Inside the car, the person seated upright squinted slightly, deep eyes fixed on Gu Ye.
“Manli!”
Director Liu also spoke up to stop her, calm but firm:
“Be mindful, don’t give people a reason to laugh.” He glanced quickly toward the car’s back seat, his tone warning and admonishing.
Wang Manli’s words stuck in her throat. She seemed to realize something, stomping in frustration—but the motion tugged at her injury, making her gasp.
In the end, she just shot Lin Wan a venomous look, half-supported by the gate guard Director Liu had called over, leaving reluctantly.
Throughout, the person in the back seat never got out or spoke.
Gu Ye watched them leave expressionless, until the car restarted and drove past the mine toward the leadership building.
Lin Wan released his arm, exhaling softly.
“They’re gone,” Gu Ye said, looking down at her.
The two turned and walked home.
After a few steps, Lin Wan couldn’t help but glance back.
The car had just turned a corner. In the dust cloud, the rear window seemed fully rolled down.
She barely glimpsed a vague side profile.
Very young, dressed in what looked like… a cadre uniform? Or… military attire?
The car was already gone, disappearing from sight.
“What are you looking at?” Gu Ye asked.
“Nothing.”
Lin Wan withdrew her gaze, suppressing the strange feeling in her chest.
Gu Ye’s eyes darkened as he also glanced in the direction the car had gone.
The wind swept through the treetops, carrying the coolness of the mountains.