Wen Yuan’s face flushed a deep red, snapping back to reality in an instant. In the mid-June weather, her ears burned with an intense heat.
“I, I… didn’t.”
Huo Shengye’s lips curved slightly as he released Wen Yuan’s hand. With a glance, the black-clad man who had taken the items earlier handed them respectfully to Huo Shengye.
Wen Yuan watched the exchange between Huo Shengye and the man in black.
It seemed the situation wasn’t quite what she had imagined. She didn’t understand why Huo Shengye had taken the items into his own hands.
Yet, she couldn’t deny that when Huo Shengye took the cakes and pastries she had personally made, a warm feeling blossomed in her heart.
It felt as though her efforts had been respected, even valued, by someone else—a sensation that was truly gratifying.
“Come in,” Huo Shengye said, turning his gaze to Wen Yuan.
Wen Yuan let out a soft “ah,” but Huo Shengye gave her no chance to refuse, adding, “The chef has already prepared dinner. I can’t finish it alone.”
Such a… simple and unadorned reason for inviting someone to dinner.
Why did she find it a little endearing? Wen Yuan wondered if she was losing her mind.
On the way over, she suddenly remembered how Qiu Lening had dug up Huo Shengye’s family history eight generations back. In a last-minute effort, she had asked Qiu Lening about Huo Shengye.
Knowing she was meeting Huo Shengye that afternoon, Qiu Lening generously shared a wealth of information, including many of Huo Shengye’s taboos. This had shifted Wen Yuan’s impression of him from “acceptable” to “quite pretentious.”
But now, that “quite pretentious” label had vanished, replaced by a sense of humor, awkwardness, and even a touch of childishness.
She’d heard that children raised in wealthy families often lacked affection. She wondered if Huo Shengye was like that. If so, he had certainly chosen the right person—she had grown up surrounded by love.
She could give him as much as he needed, hoping only that he would treat the Wen family’s businesses well and that the Huo Group would refrain from expanding into the tourism industry.
Her thoughts drifted aimlessly, and before she knew it, Wen Yuan found herself led by Huo Shengye into a highly private room within the villa.
The room was romantically decorated, with candles lit on the dining table—a… candlelit dinner??
The heavy blackout curtains were drawn, and the air conditioning maintained a comfortable temperature. Wen Yuan, wearing a dress, felt neither cold nor warm—just perfectly at ease.
After they entered, Huo Shengye’s subordinates swiftly and quietly closed the door behind them.
Wen Yuan approached the table, hesitating about whether to sit. Huo Shengye, who had just set down the items, appeared beside her and pulled out a dining chair for her.
“Please sit, Miss Wen. Or would you prefer to wash your hands first? There’s a washroom over there.”
The enclosed space was eerily quiet, amplifying every sound. As Huo Shengye spoke, Wen Yuan could clearly hear the subtle, grainy texture in his voice, like the soft pads of a kitten’s paws, stirring a faint, inexplicable itch in her heart.
The sensation was strange, indescribable, but Wen Yuan was certain that Huo Shengye had struck a chord within her.
Her ears grew warm again. This frequency of shyness was something she had never experienced, not even during her relationship with Shao Feng, who had pretended to be gentle and refined.
Wen Yuan went to the washroom. When she returned, Huo Shengye had already unwrapped the small cake she had made.
“It’s beautiful,” Huo Shengye said.
The compliment was straightforward, not particularly effusive, yet strangely, Wen Yuan felt she could detect genuine sincerity in his words, rather than mere polite courtesy.
She looked at Huo Shengye upon hearing this, and the man happened to glance toward her as well. Their eyes met, and in those dark, night-like pupils flickered the candlelight from the table, bewitching like a demon.
Wen Yuan’s footsteps involuntarily paused, her heartbeat quickening once more. She had a strange premonition.
This feeling was intense, and the next moment, Wen Yuan knew it wasn’t her imagination.
Huo Shengye was walking toward her!
He circled around the long table, from the opposite side, moving toward her.
Wen Yuan parted her lips slightly, turning sideways to look at Huo Shengye. Her subconscious urged her to retreat, but reason told her she couldn’t back away now.
She needed to make Huo Shengye develop a favorable impression of her—what would avoiding him accomplish?
Men of such status probably didn’t appreciate the tactic of playing hard to get either.
After weighing the pros and cons, Wen Yuan forced herself to remain calm and stood still.
The distance between Huo Shengye and her shortened, then shortened further. The man’s tall figure seemed even more intimidating in the already dimly lit, ambiguous room, brimming with threat.
Wen Yuan’s fingers hanging by her side lightly pinched her skirt hem. As Huo Shengye continued to approach her, Wen Yuan proactively stepped forward half a pace, pressing close to Huo Shengye, and gently wrapped her arms around his waist.
Huo Shengye’s footsteps halted, his eyes instantly darkening, his Adam’s apple subtly rolling, and the corners of his lips hidden in the warm light lifting slightly.
Yet, within seconds, his voice turned cool and questioning: “What are you doing, Miss Wen?”
“I just noticed the curtains there seemed a bit translucent, like they weren’t properly closed, so I wanted to adjust them.”
Just… adjusting the curtains?
Wen Yuan flushed with embarrassment, quickly releasing Huo Shengye upon hearing this and straightening up. “Sorry, apologies, Mr. Huo, I, I…” She had misunderstood.
Wen Yuan was so embarrassed she covered her face directly, standing upright and straight. Through the gaps between her fingers, she saw Huo Shengye indeed adjusting the curtains.
Originally, there really was a slight gap there, letting in a bit of light from outside.
Wen Yuan wished she could find a crack in the ground to hide in. Oh no, oh no, would Huo Shengye think she was a little weirdo?
The kind who hugs a man’s waist without warning?
Huo Shengye went into the washroom to wash his hands. Wen Yuan sat in her seat, her gaze sweeping over the cake she had made that Huo Shengye had opened, then touching her cheek with the back of her hand.
It was burning hot, definitely flushed red.
Had she messed up this meeting?
Wen Yuan couldn’t help worrying. When Huo Shengye leisurely walked over, he saw the girl looking pitiful—
Like a wilted little bunny, dejected and self-blaming, her head drooping, her moist pink lips slightly pursed, her beautiful little face clearly spelling out three big words: Not Happy!
Huo Shengye slightly curved his lips, a smile surfacing in his eyes. He sat down and served Wen Yuan some dishes.
“Why aren’t you eating? Am I being too harsh toward Miss Wen?”
“We’ve registered our marriage…” Miss Wen, Miss Wen—Wen Yuan felt it sounded so strange, as if they weren’t familiar at all.
Not mentioning the wedding after registering was fine, but calling her Miss Wen repeatedly made Wen Yuan inwardly puffed up with anger. Ultimately, she couldn’t resist showing a bit of her spoiled temper.
But once that temper emerged, Wen Yuan regretted it. Was her remark too abrupt, too impatient?
Would Huo Shengye get angry?
Wen Yuan felt uneasy inside. Meeting Huo Shengye’s eyes, she nervously clenched her fists slightly, attempting to explain.
Yet, unexpectedly, just as she was about to speak, Huo Shengye suddenly smiled—not a mocking smile.
But a gentle smile, so beautiful that Wen Yuan couldn’t even doubt her own eyesight.
She had never seen a man whose smile could be so captivating.
“If you don’t like me calling you that, then how would you prefer it? Yuanyuan? Yuan’er? Darling? Or perhaps—”
“Madam? Wife?”