Since coming here, Ran Weiyi had noticed that her ability to manage daily life was visibly declining.
Once, she had been an independent woman, capable of twisting open bottle caps and replacing water jugs on her own. Now, she even needed someone to feed her a single crab.
She felt like a carefully pampered pet—no, a useless one.
A little useless creature, so spoiled that her limbs had weakened, and her ability to “hunt” was gone… The thought made her want to laugh.
Only after she shook her head to signal that she was full did Ye Mochen begin eating his own dish of bamboo fungus with matsutake mushrooms, deliberately unhurried.
He ate quickly, yet elegantly and with aristocratic grace, making the earlier image of him patiently dissecting crabs and feeding her seem almost like a mirage.
Ran Weiyi propped her chin on her hand, watching his handsome, icy profile with a sense of secure contentment.
Useless or not, this treatment was something she had painstakingly earned.
After a harmonious, warm meal, Ye Mochen carried her bag and wrapped his arm around her waist as they left the private room.
The corridor was carpeted with thick wool, muffling every footstep, leaving only the sound of their breathing.
[Beep, Warning! Original book female lead Chen Caiwen detected fifty meters ahead, accompanied by a middle-aged man!] DouDou’s little voice sounded in her mind.
Ran Weiyi, safely in Ye Mochen’s arms, glanced in the indicated direction.
Around the corner, a woman in a white dress smiled, chatting with the man beside her—the somewhat famous Director Li.
So this was Chen Caiwen’s dinner tonight. Whether she could get the supporting female role depended on how well she could please the director.
Almost simultaneously, Chen Caiwen noticed Ye Mochen on this end of the corridor.
Her smile froze, the color drained from her face, and she seemed nailed to the spot. It’s him! How could he be here?
Had his piercing eyes already seen her? Was he going to drag her back again?
The thought of that gilded yet prison-like estate sent a chill from her feet to her head.
Panicking, she scanned for a hiding spot—any planter, any wall behind her, anything to shield her from his gaze.
Director Li continued talking, but she couldn’t hear a word; all she wanted was to vanish from this man’s sight.
Ye Mochen noticed her gaze linger elsewhere.
His brows furrowed slightly, following her line of sight to a pale-faced woman and a greasy middle-aged man.
Displeased, he retracted his gaze and looked at Ran Weiyi.
My Yi Yi shouldn’t be staring at anyone else.
He tightened his arm, pulling her deeper into his embrace, blocking her view completely.
Without saying a word, he guided her toward the elevator in the opposite direction, never giving Chen Caiwen so much as a glance. She and the man beside her were mere background props in his eyes. Only when the elevator doors closed did Ran Weiyi look back.
Chen Caiwen was still frozen in place, terrified, forgetting even the director beside her.
This was the path the original female lead had chosen: placate a greasy director with endless smiles, constantly anxious, sacrificing herself for a small role.
Ran Weiyi, in contrast, was the pampered “useless” girl, having crabs fed to her and guided through life by Ye Mochen.
The elevator’s gleaming metal reflected their two tightly embraced figures.
Ran Weiyi leaned against his chest, feeling the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat. Her self-conscious “useless” thoughts now felt justified.
She lifted her head slightly, looking up at his chiseled jaw.
He hadn’t spared Chen Caiwen a single extra glance—she might as well not have existed.
In his world, there were only two things: her… and everything else.
In the descending elevator, she turned and wrapped her arms firmly around his waist, pressing her cheek against the fine fabric of his suit, rubbing softly.
“Ah Chen,” she whispered.
Ye Mochen’s body tensed slightly, then tightened his embrace, fully enclosing her. Lowering his head, all he could see was the top of her hair.
“Hm?” His low, resonant voice made her ears tingle.
She buried herself further into his chest, muffling her words: “You’re so good to me.”
Simple words, but far sweeter than any elaborate compliment.
Ye Mochen didn’t reply, resting his chin lightly atop her head.
He liked the feeling of having her completely in his arms, sensing the softness of her body, the unique scent she carried, and the utter dependence in her words of praise.
The sense of being needed, being irreplaceable, eased the tension in him.
His free hand rose, caressing the back of her head, fingers threading lightly through her soft hair.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low, vibrating through his chest, carried down to her:
“Only for you.”
Those four words were like dropping a pebble into hot syrup—bubbles of sweetness erupted in her heart, nearly overflowing.
She couldn’t help but laugh quietly, burying her face in his chest, shoulders trembling like a little animal finding a secure tree hollow.
She didn’t lift her head, pressing her cheek against his chest through fabric, as if stamping a “Ran Weiyi Exclusive” seal.
Ye Mochen gazed down at her tousled hair, his hand tightening slightly as his fingers caressed it.
“What were you looking at just now in the corridor?”
Ran Weiyi froze.
He cared about the glance she had given Chen Caiwen. His possessiveness penetrated every nerve ending.
For anyone else, this might feel suffocating.
But Ran Weiyi thought it was the sweetest love declaration in the world.
It meant every part of her—even a single glance—was treasured and collected by him.
She looked up from his embrace, her sparkling eyes reflected in the elevator walls. Innocent yet confidently, she said:
“Looking at you.”
Ye Mochen raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.
Ran Weiyi poked his firm chest with her finger. “Looking at how you’re holding me in your arms, staring straight ahead. So handsome—I can’t get enough.”
She said it boldly, without a hint of embarrassment.
Ye Mochen watched her for a few seconds, the slight displeasure in his deep eyes gradually melting into satisfaction at being pleased.
His lips twitched slightly, almost imperceptibly.
Ding. The elevator doors opened.
He held her close as they stepped out, saying nothing further.
But Ran Weiyi knew—her words, her presence, her trust—all of it had been fully received and treasured by him.