When he opened his eyes again, it was already evening.
A warm orange glow from the sunset filled the room—not harsh, but somehow stirring a restless energy.
Qin Fu tried to move the arm that had been serving as a pillow. A wave of numbness and soreness crept up inch by inch, and he sighed, attempting to slide it out from under Gu Nianqing’s head.
But even in her sleep, she was sensitive to movement. She frowned, murmured a few incoherent sounds, and instinctively burrowed deeper into his arms.
Qin Fu couldn’t help but laugh.
Compared to a few months ago—when, after they’d been intimate, she would snatch all the blankets and cocoon herself like a silkworm, fast asleep—this change was nothing short of dramatic.
Before he came along, Gu Nianqing clearly hadn’t planned on letting anyone else live here. The apartment was set up entirely for a single occupant, including the bed.
Qin Fu was tall, and squeezed in beside her, he could barely stretch out. After lying there for most of the day, he felt a bit more rested mentally—but physically, his whole body ached.
“Niannian,” he called softly by her ear, using the nickname that belonged only to him. “Time to get up. You didn’t eat lunch—how about we go out and grab something?”
Her breathing shifted, but her eyes stayed closed. She clung to his back, refusing to let go.
“Baby’s been wronged… so many bad people are trying to bully baby…”
Qin Fu: …
If she could talk like that, she would clearly feel better.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his phone light up. He reached for it and skimmed the latest messages.
“The Shen family’s got some nerve,” he said lightly. “They actually managed to pull him out of the station. Are people in your Beijing circle always this bold?”
Gu Nianqing’s eyes snapped open.
“Funny timing too—some paparazzi just happened to pass by and caught the argument on camera. Xiao Xu’s already negotiating with him to release it…” Qin Fu paused, noticing the way she blinked at him. “Wait—that reporter was your setup?”
Gu Nianqing sat up and stretched lazily.
“Things work out if you plan for them.”
On the way to the police station after calling the police, she had already contacted the same gossip reporter who had exposed Shen Yu slapping Xu Yingjia at the airport. Having benefited once before, the reporter had shown up quickly this time.
As for why she didn’t contact the one who had been following Xu Yingjia—well, that person was tied to the Xu family. She couldn’t risk unpredictable complications.
She enjoyed leveraging uncertainty when it worked in her favor—but hated anything that took control out of her hands.
Like the man now sitting in her space… a presence that wasn’t supposed to exist here.
Watching Qin Fu scroll through his phone, Gu Nianqing suddenly felt a flicker of regret.
She couldn’t understand why she had invited him to stay.
Was it because, when she faced the Shen family’s lawyers and felt completely alone, Qin Fu had appeared like a savior—and that fleeting sense of security had made her act on impulse?
But it had been her choice to send Xu Xiaxia to pick him up. Her choice to face everything alone.
Just like countless times before.
All along, Gu Nianqing had kept the two worlds she lived in strictly separate. She didn’t want her employees at Qimeng to see her being looked down upon in high society.
In fact, back when she turned eighteen, she had returned to the country specifically to move her household registration out on her own.
Her relationship with Zhou Ya had always been complicated, but there had been an agreement. And since Gu Nianqing had refused to take the Xu family name all these years, Zhou Ya knew she felt no sense of belonging there—so she cooperated with the decision.
After all, Gu Nianqing cutting ties with the Xu family also benefited Xu Yingjia.
Once the formalities were complete, Gu Nianqing bought this home for herself.
No Gu Sheng. No Gu Yongkang. No one from the Xu family.
A territory that belonged to her—and her alone.
And yet now, she had willingly allowed Qin Fu to step into it.
This wasn’t how she had imagined things.
A faint unease crept into her chest.
…It must be because her period hit too hard this time—clouding her judgment.
So what now? Should she shamelessly take back her words, or accept the shift in circumstances?
“Why so quiet all of a sudden?”
Qin Fu reached out and, almost out of habit, pulled her into his arms, absentmindedly rubbing her small, soft earlobe.
After squeezing onto that single bed with her all afternoon, his tailored shirt was already wrinkled. The scent of the specially chosen fabric softener lingered around him, filling Gu Nianqing’s senses.
She paused, a little dazed.
A few months ago, the first time she woke up in Qin Fu’s bed, she had complained—openly and without restraint—that his laundry detergent smelled too strong. Now, he had quietly adjusted so many little details to suit her preferences.
Something inside her softened.
She wasn’t the only one who had changed.
Maybe… this wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
Gu Nianqing rolled over and lay on top of him, her eyes bright. “Old Qin, this is my first time, you know.”
The sudden shift in topic caught Qin Fu off guard. “First time… what?”
“Letting someone move into my home,” she said, tracing circles on his chest with her finger. “And having someone come pick me up after I deal with things—that’s a first too. I’m giving all of that to you.”
Qin Fu: …
That leap in conversation… so she’d really been debating whether to take it back? Heartless little thing.
And yet, the way she said it—it almost sounded like something she was proud of.
He caught her wandering finger and brought it to his lips, pressing a light kiss to it.
“Then from now on, every first will be mine too, alright?”
Her heart skipped so suddenly that she sucked in a sharp breath.
“Oh my god,” she stared straight into his eyes. “Are you really the same Chairman Qin who didn’t even know how to interlace fingers when holding hands before?! Where did you learn to talk like that?”
Qin Fu pinched her cheek, remembering how she used to describe him, and couldn’t help grinding his teeth a little.
“I have Mrs. Qin to thank for pushing me. Otherwise, a nearly thirty-year-old man who’s never even been in a relationship would just get looked down on.”
Gu Nianqing’s eyes widened in shock. “How do you—who told you that?!”
“…You’re not even going to deny it?” Qin Fu pressed a hand to his forehead.
“That’s not the point,” she shot back. “If that got back to you, it means I’ve got a traitor among my people! Who was it?”
“…No one. I happened to go to your lab that day and overheard it outside.”
“…!”
Her shoulders slumped. “So it was my own fault… figures. I was wondering why you kept pressing me about ‘feedback’ every time…”
“Well, I figured Mrs. Qin has high standards and plenty of knowledge. I didn’t want to embarrass myself and get fired,” Qin Fu said, his hand sliding along her lower back, gentle in touch but teasing in tone. “Who would’ve thought—you’ve mastered the theory, but your practical experience is zero.”
The sensation along her spine made Gu Nianqing shiver. She tried to push herself up, but Qin Fu pressed a hand against the small of her back. Her body went weak instantly.
He rested his chin against her forehead and flipped them over in one smooth motion, reversing their positions.
Snapped out of her daze, Gu Nianqing trembled slightly. “O-Old Qin, I… I can’t today, you—”
“I know.”
Qin Fu lowered his head and lightly bit her earlobe, sending a shiver through her.
He took her hand, interlacing their fingers so she couldn’t pull away.
“But when you climbed on top of me, you should’ve thought about the consequences, right?”
Guiding her much smaller hand in his, he moved it downward.
“Be good. Let’s make it quick.”
Gu Nianqing: …
Regret.
Deep, immediate regret.