Mu Ci numbly raised her hand, but the moment her fingers touched the door, she suddenly snapped back to reality.
What was she thinking?
Disturbing someone’s sleep in the middle of the night because she was feeling down—how ridiculous.
Fortunately, the knock on the door was light. At this hour, he was probably asleep and definitely hadn’t heard it.
Mu Ci quietly withdrew her hand and returned to the balcony of the master bedroom. Leaning against the railing, she continued to let the night breeze wash over her, allowing her emotions to overflow.
So what if she was feeling down? Wasn’t the night meant for sinking into melancholy?
“Xiao Ci.”
A slightly hoarse male voice sounded from behind her.
Mu Ci turned around, feeling both surprised and guilty. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
“I wasn’t asleep.”
The man walked over, resting his hands on the railing as he turned to look at her. “Can’t sleep?”
“I slept too early and woke up unable to fall back asleep.”
“Something on your mind?” Qin Yan gazed into her slightly unfocused eyes, guessing, “Is the pressure of pregnancy too much?”
He had done some research and knew that women’s emotions could fluctuate greatly during pregnancy due to hormonal changes, making them prone to irritability and depression.
Mu Ci pursed her lips. “I don’t know, I just suddenly felt…”
She trailed off, her fingers picking at the carved patterns on the railing, leaving her sentence unfinished.
Qin Yan lowered his gaze, noticing that the paint on that part of the carving was almost completely scraped off before he heard her let out a soft sigh:
“It’s nothing. Maybe I’m just being a bit emotional because of the pregnancy.”
For a moment, Mu Ci really wanted to hear Qin Yan’s voice.
But when he asked, she lost the desire to confide in him.
She couldn’t stand her own melodramatic self, let alone expect others to.
Qin Yan didn’t miss any subtle change in her expression, frowning slightly as he called her seriously, “Xiao Ci.”
“Hmm?” Mu Ci was still picking at the carving.
Qin Yan took her hand, stopping her from further damaging the carving, and looked intently into her eyes.
“You can tell me anything, no matter what it is. Anything at all.”
The night breeze rustled her skirt, brushing against the deep blue silk pajama pants before drifting apart.
Under the glow of the night light, the man’s strikingly handsome face seemed even more enchanting and captivating.
Mu Ci, momentarily entranced, parted her lips slightly but ultimately didn’t speak.
“It’s a bit cold,” she rubbed her arms, changing the subject. “Let’s go inside. The cold wind might make you catch a cold.”
Qin Yan watched the slender figure of the young woman, his gaze darkening slightly.
He didn’t press further and went to the kitchen to heat up a glass of milk.
“Drink this.”
Mu Ci had already snuggled into the comfortable bed, clutching the blanket and blinking, reluctant to get up.
“If I drink this glass of milk, I’ll probably be swollen like a pig tomorrow.”
Qin Yan held the milk glass steadily, looking as though he wouldn’t give up until she drank it, but his tone was gentle and indulgent:
“Be good, drink it.”
She said she couldn’t sleep, and milk could help with that, so she had to drink it.
Mu Ci slowly sat up, took the glass of milk, and muttered, “You really remind me of my dad.”
Qin Yan raised an eyebrow. “What?”
Mu Ci drank her milk without responding, but Qin Yan wasn’t letting it go. “You said I remind you of your dad? Think I’m old?”
Whether he was old or not aside, he was Qin Qiqi’s uncle, and that generational gap was undeniable.
Mu Ci drank most of the milk but refused to finish it, setting the glass down. “Qiqi and I are good friends. Strictly speaking, it wouldn’t be wrong for me to call you ‘Uncle.’”
Uncle.
In the end, she still thought he was old.
Qin Yan tapped her head lightly. “Even though I’m Qin Qiqi’s uncle, we’re only five years apart. And with you—”
He emphasized, “We’re only four years apart.”
“Four years older is still old,” Mu Ci thought of him forcing her to drink milk, still holding a grudge. “When I was still in elementary school, you were already in high school.”
“…”
She held up two fingers to illustrate: “Two years make a generation gap. There are two generation gaps between us!”
“…”
Sharp-tongued little girl.
Qin Yan was both annoyed and amused. He reached out to wipe the milk foam from the corner of her mouth. “Alright, whatever you say is right. I can’t win an argument with you.”
“Of course it is.”
Having won the verbal sparring, the gloom weighing on Mu Ci’s heart lifted considerably.
Leaning against the pillow, her stomach full of milk made it impossible to lie down comfortably. She simply stared ahead with clear, bright eyes, lost in thought.
“Still can’t sleep?”
Qin Yan pulled a chair over and sat by the bed. While she was lost in thought, he watched her.
Mu Ci shook her head. “Not sleepy yet.”
“Then how about a story?” Qin Yan asked.
A story?
Mu Ci couldn’t imagine the aloof CEO telling a bedtime story, which piqued her interest. She nodded. “Okay!”
She thought Qin Yan’s idea of storytelling would be like when her parents sat by her bedside as a child, warmly telling fairy tales. But when she saw the two hefty books Qin Yan brought over, her whole mood instantly soured—
Principles of Economics
The other one was even worse: A History of World Philosophy
Mu Ci’s beautiful fox-like eyes showed disdain. “I want a bedtime story, not a return to university lectures.”
Qin Yan glanced at the books in his hand. These were what he usually read. Weren’t they interesting?
“The study is full of books in these categories. What type do you want? I’ll have Ke Chao buy them and deliver them.”
“…”
Having someone buy books in the middle of the night—even a ruthless boss wouldn’t exploit people like this.
Mu Ci picked up her phone from the nightstand and tapped a few times.
“Don’t bother buying books. Here, read this novel to me instead.”
She handed him the phone and burrowed under the covers, finding a comfortable position, obediently waiting for her plastic husband’s bedtime story.
But for a long moment, there was no sound.
Qin Yan sat there, his expression shifting unpredictably. His thin lips moved slightly, as if he were struggling to form words.
“Aren’t you going to tell the story?” Mu Ci looked at him.
Qin Yan averted his eyes from the phone screen, his feelings complicated.
It wasn’t that he refused to read, but he had noticed the novel’s melodramatic title—
On the Day of Divorce, the Ex-Husband from a Wealthy Family Kneels and Begs for a Kiss
Just when he thought the title was dramatic enough, he skimmed the beginning…
And for a few seconds, he briefly lost the ability to speak.
Qin Yan raised an eyebrow. “…You like reading this?”
Do I really have to read it?