Ye Mochen froze, his gaze drifting slowly from her face down to her stomach.
The faint smile in his eyes deepened, no longer a fleeting illusion.
Ran Weiyi wished she could disappear into a crack in the floor.
Seizing the moment, she hurriedly spoke, trying to salvage some dignity: “I’m hungry.”
“Hm.”
Ye Mochen responded with a low sound and led her to wash up. Even after finishing, their fingers remained tightly intertwined.
“I’ll take you to breakfast.”
Step by step, hand in hand, they descended the long spiral staircase.
The servants they passed all averted their eyes, respectfully moving aside. They practically melted into the walls, giving them a path far wider than needed, yet couldn’t resist sneaking glances at their clasped hands.
Ye Mochen didn’t look sideways, as if the trembling servants were nothing more than wallpaper.
In his world, it seemed, only she—being held by him—existed.
[DouDou: Alert! Male lead’s possessiveness value has reached 15%, currently in the stage of publicly asserting ownership. Sister, according to the database, this behavior is colloquially called “walking the wife.”]
“Walking the wife”? That phrasing was crude! Ran Weiyi smiled slightly.
But glancing at the man’s profile beside her, she had to admit—DouDou’s blunt description was oddly accurate.
Under striking red hair, his profile was sharp and precise. Three black obsidian earrings caught tiny shards of cold light, making his pale, bloodless skin appear even more strikingly beautiful in a morbid way.
Yet the pressure from his palm carried a sense of belonging.
Each step he took seemed to announce to the entire estate: she, Ran Weiyi, was his.
Her gaze fell to their interlocked hands again.
His long fingers, knuckles defined, slid firmly and perfectly into hers, holding her tightly.
This wasn’t holding hands—it was a mark.
So good.
The thought popped up unbidden, bringing a joy she hadn’t realized she felt.
Perhaps sensing her gaze, Ye Mochen turned slightly, lowering his eyes to look at her.
Ran Weiyi’s heart skipped a beat. She instinctively tried to look away, but his gaze held her still.
“What are you looking at?” His voice still had that post-sleep huskiness, low and feather-light against her ears.
“Looking at… you… beautiful.” She blurted it out.
Immediately, she regretted it—it was far too direct.
Ye Mochen, however, seemed pleased. He stared at her for two seconds, the curve of his lips deepening, the smile in his eyes becoming clearer.
He didn’t speak further, just tightened his grip on her hand and continued walking straight ahead.
Yet Ran Weiyi felt it clearly: his entire aura had changed. The usual coldness toward strangers had softened, replaced by something almost playful.
He had been pleased—by a single word: beautiful.
Her chest swelled with a mixture of sour and sweet emotions.
In the dining hall, butler Lin Bo was arranging the meal. Glancing back, he saw his young master leading Miss Ran toward the table.
His expression froze for a split second, then returned to polite warmth, but with a sincere glint of relief in his smile.
“Master, Miss Ran, breakfast is ready.”
Lin Bo greeted them cheerfully, eyes briefly meeting their joined hands before quickly looking away.
“Not knowing Miss Ran’s preferences, I prepared a mix of Chinese and Western dishes.”
Ran Weiyi looked up to see the long table filled with a dazzling array: Cantonese dim sum, Su-style noodle soup, English sausages with fried eggs… dishes from all over, almost like a complete feast.
She smiled. “Thank you, Lin Bo. I’m not picky.”
She tried to pull her hand away, but Ye Mochen, as if having eyes on his back, held it tighter.
He didn’t speak—just led her to the main seat, pulling out the chair for her. Throughout, he didn’t release her hand.
Then he didn’t sit at the main seat himself, choosing the seat beside her, nearly touching her.
Ran Weiyi: “…He intends to hold hands while eating?”
Her gaze lingered briefly on a basket of crystal-clear shrimp dumplings. Just briefly.
Before she could look away, the man beside her moved.
Ye Mochen used his free hand to pick up a dumpling with chopsticks and brought it to her lips, smooth and natural in motion.
He lowered his eyes to her, voice low: “Hand’s inconvenient. I’ll feed you.”
Ran Weiyi smiled softly.
Her hand inconvenient? The culprit was sitting beside her, firmly gripping her “inconvenient” hand!
She caught Lin Bo and the other servants in her peripheral vision—they stood like ornamental statues, ears surely pricked to catch every sound.
Obediently, slightly shy, she opened her mouth. The warm dumpling entered—springy on the outside, savory inside.
[DouDou: Beep! New type of couple-showing detected: forced feeding! Possessiveness value increased to 16%. Sister, this isn’t “walking the wife” anymore, this is “raising a daughter”! ]
She nearly choked on DouDou’s commentary but swallowed silently, heart surging.
Being fully controlled, even fed by someone else, should feel humiliating. Yet why did her heartbeat quicken? That sweet, tingling sensation bubbled up in her chest.
One dumpling swallowed, Ye Mochen’s chopsticks reached again—this time with a golden piece of fried egg. She obediently opened her mouth.
Second, third… throughout breakfast, Ran Weiyi abandoned all thought and action.
She seriously wondered if the original female lead in the story was insane to reject such a perfect, attentive male lead. No, not insane—she must have drowned in the Pacific.
She swallowed the fried egg, unable to suppress her smile, and let herself look at him with sparkling eyes.
Being watched so intently, breathing in his presence, sent shivers through her. She suddenly felt playful.
Her gaze slowly swept the table, finally lingering on a clear Su-style wonton, deliberately holding for a second longer.
As expected, Ye Mochen noticed.
Following her gaze, he swapped chopsticks for a spoon, carefully scooping a dumpling, blowing on it gently.
“You want this?” His low voice carried a subtle indulgence.
Ran Weiyi nodded emphatically, like a cat waiting to be fed, eyes full of anticipation.