He turned the pages one by one.
Himself in different scenes, from different angles, with different expressions.
Some were complete sketches, some were just quick studies, and some were even just partial details—
His hand holding a pen, his lowered eyelashes, the faintly visible collarbone beneath the collar of his shirt…
When he reached the last few pages, Lu Feng’s fingers paused.
It was the scene from the library stairwell yesterday.
In the dim light, Lin Ran stood on tiptoe, biting his collarbone.
The image was frozen in that moment, the pencil lines heavier than those before, almost tearing through the paper.
He could see the tendons in his neck as he tilted his head back, the slender hands of Lin Ran clinging to him, and the twisted, tense atmosphere between them.
In the lower right corner of the drawing were two small words in Lin Ran’s handwriting: Mark.
Lu Feng stared at the drawing, his breathing gradually quickening.
The earliest drawing was from three or four months ago, back when he didn’t even know Lin Ran.
Yet she had been observing him long before that.
And had started drawing him.
His throat tightened.
He looked up, his gaze falling on the girl by the window.
She was holding a cherry to her lips, her crimson lips closing around the deep red fruit. With a gentle bite, juice stained the corner of her mouth.
She extended her tongue to lick it away, then noticed his gaze and looked up at him.
“Why are you staring at me?” Her voice was lazy.
Lu Feng silently held up the sketchbook in his hand.
Lin Ran’s expression froze for a moment.
Just a moment, so brief that Lu Feng almost thought it was an illusion.
The next second, she had already stood up, walked over quickly, snatched the sketchbook from his hand, snapped it shut, and threw it back into the deepest part of the drawer.
Then she took out an ordinary notebook from the drawer and shoved it into his hands.
“Use this.”
Her tone had returned to its usual coldness and command, as if that momentary lapse had never happened.
She turned and sat back down in the rocking chair.
Lu Feng watched her series of movements, noticing the faint redness at the tips of her ears. The shock and strange emotions in his heart gradually settled.
Transforming into a more complex confusion and a hint of… an indescribable restlessness.
He opened the blank notebook, his gaze unfocused.
After a few seconds of silence, he spoke.
“Those drawings…”
“Just practice sketches,” Lin Ran interrupted him.
Lu Feng opened his mouth but said nothing more.
Those could never have been just practice sketches.
She didn’t want to admit it, and he didn’t want to press the issue.
He calmed himself and began to carefully jot down his thoughts and reflections from reading the documents earlier, one by one.
Trying to pull his attention back to the purely professional realm.
The room fell into silence again, but the atmosphere was completely different from before.
An invisible, subtle tension filled the air, mingling with the sunlight, the sweet fragrance of cherries, and something unspoken yet palpable.
An hour later, Lu Feng finished writing the last stroke, put down his pen, and looked toward Lin Ran.
“It’s done.”
“Bring it here.”
Lu Feng stood up and walked over, handing her the notebook.
From his vantage point, he could see a patch of pale, smooth skin beneath her collarbone.
His eyes felt as if they’d been burned, and he quickly averted his gaze.
Lin Ran, completely unaware, took the notebook and casually flipped through a few pages.
The handwriting was neat and forceful, the ideas well-organized, and each suggestion was accompanied by reasons and possible solutions.
It wasn’t perfunctory—it was clear he had genuinely thought it through.
The male lead was indeed just like in the original story—though passionate about architectural design, he possessed an extraordinary talent for finance.
This was also the reason why, after being recognized by a top-tier wealthy family later on, he could grow and develop so rapidly.
Lin Ran closed the notebook and set it aside. “Tomorrow morning, wait for my call. You can go now.”
Lu Feng gave a quiet “Mm” and turned to leave.
He crossed the hall and walked out of the villa.
The butler followed him out. “Mr. Lu, Miss has arranged a car to take you back.”
“No need, thank you.”
Lu Feng refused stiffly, not looking back as he strode away along the path he had come.
He needed to walk, to feel the wind, to sort through the tangled mess of thoughts in his mind.
＊
In the room, Lin Ran stood before the floor-to-ceiling window. The butler knocked and entered to report.
“Miss, Mr. Lu declined the driver.”
“If he prefers to walk down the mountain, let him.” Lin Ran’s tone was flat, without fluctuation.
“Yes.” The butler acknowledged but did not leave immediately. “Miss, if I may be blunt, you seem… different toward this Mr. Lu.”
Lin Ran turned to look at him. “Different how?”
“You rarely bring outsiders home, let alone allow them into your room.” The butler chose his words carefully. “And you seem… quite attentive to him.”
Lin Ran smiled, a somewhat complicated expression. “Uncle Zhou, how many years have you worked for the Lin family?”
“Since you were born, Miss. Twenty years.”
Lin Ran said softly, “Then you should know that since I was little, I’ve never failed to get what I wanted.”
“He’s no different. It’s just… he’s a bit more difficult to handle.”
The butler bowed slightly. “Understood.”
After the butler withdrew and closed the door, a slightly cheerful system announcement echoed in Lin Ran’s mind.
【Host, the male lead’s affection value has increased by 50. Current affection value: (negative 50). Progressing from extreme disgust to moderate disgust—keep up the good work!】
Lin Ran watched the figure on the winding mountain road and curled the corner of her mouth.
She had simply laid bare her past feelings for him to see.
Whether the affection value increased or not, it was a kind of closure for her former self.
But for the value to still be negative fifty even after an increase of fifty… it could only mean the starting deficit was too large, the male lead’s hatred for her too deep.
Still, such numbers made the conquest all the more interesting.
She was already looking forward to how she would toy with him tomorrow.
Lin Ran already had an idea…
＊
At nine o’clock on Sunday morning, Lu Feng was startled awake by a specific notification tone from his phone.
He had tossed and turned all night, only managing to fall asleep in the early hours.
His dreams were bizarre and chaotic—one moment, it was the portrait of himself in the sketchbook; the next, the glaring crimson on Lin Ran’s lips under the sunlight; then, the burning liquor from the bar that scorched his throat.
Pressing his throbbing temples, he unlocked the screen.
Lin Ran’s message contained only two words: 【Come downstairs】
Not even a punctuation mark was spared.
He stared at the screen for three seconds, fingers hovering over the keyboard, but in the end, he didn’t reply.
He turned off his phone, changed clothes, and washed up.
In the living room, his foster mother was mopping the floor. Seeing him heading out, she looked up. “Xiao Feng, breakfast is in the pot.”
“Not eating. I have something to do.”
His foster mother nodded. “Alright, then be careful.”
Lu Feng went downstairs and stepped out of the building entrance. The late autumn wind carried a chill.
He zipped up his jacket, shoved his hands into his pockets, and looked up to see the familiar sports car.
The fiery red sports car was parked ostentatiously at the entrance of the shabby residential complex, forming a glaring contrast with the clutter piled around it.
The car window rolled down, revealing Lin Ran sitting in the driver’s seat wearing sunglasses, her long hair slightly lifted by a breeze from outside.
She didn’t look at him, merely tilting her chin upward. “Get in.”
Today she wore a white off-shoulder knit top that clearly revealed her collarbone, paired with light-colored jeans—an unusually casual outfit, yet still so dazzling it was hard to look away.
The auntie selling breakfast by the roadside kept glancing over, and several elderly men returning from their morning exercises couldn’t help but steal a few extra looks.
Lu Feng opened the car door and settled into the passenger seat.
“Where to?” he asked, fastening his seatbelt, his tone indifferent.
Lin Ran started the car, the engine emitting a low rumble. “You’ll know when we get there.”
Lu Feng didn’t press further—after all, the answer wasn’t up to him.