Although Pei Huaijin remained silent, his gaze was anything but restful.
It wasn’t the kind of blatant scrutiny one might expect, but rather a subtle, almost imperceptible observation.
He would glance up while picking up food, his eyes sweeping briefly across her face.
He would lift his gaze while holding his wine glass, letting it linger on her for a second or two before shifting away.
While listening to Pei Cheng’an speak, he would tilt his head slightly, the corner of his eye catching her in his peripheral vision—seemingly casual, yet somehow meaningful.
That kind of look made Shen Qingyu uneasy.
Not exactly uncomfortable—more like an indescribable, strange sensation that inexplicably quickened her heartbeat.
Shen Qingyu noticed him looking at her again while she was talking to Lin Wanru.
Mid-sentence, she caught a glimpse of a gaze from the corner of her eye. Instinctively, she turned her head and met Pei Huaijin’s eyes.
He was watching her.
Not the polite, socially appropriate kind of attention one might give in such settings—it felt as though he were trying to see right through her.
One second, two seconds.
Shen Qingyu averted her eyes and continued answering Lin Wanru’s question.
Her voice remained steady, her smile perfectly maintained, but her heart was beating a little faster.
Why is he looking at me like that?
She muttered to herself inwardly, keeping her expression unchanged as she continued chatting with Lin Wanru.
Shen Qingyu noticed him watching her again while she was drinking soup.
She lowered her head to scoop a spoonful of soup, and just as she brought it to her lips, that feeling of being watched returned. She looked up and, sure enough—Pei Huaijin was holding his wine glass, his head slightly tilted, his gaze fixed on her.
When he saw her look up, he didn’t avert his eyes or show any sign of embarrassment. Instead, he leisurely set down his glass, picked up his chopsticks, and placed a piece of fish into his bowl. His movements were so natural, as if nothing had happened.
Shen Qingyu was taken aback.
What’s wrong with this guy?
She lowered her head and continued drinking her soup, but the feeling of being watched was like a fine needle pricking the back of her neck, making her feel uneasy all over.
Lin Wanru and Manlin Jiang were chatting about a mutual friend, discussing how that person’s daughter had recently gotten married to some family. Shen Qingyu listened, her eyes fixed on the table as she absentmindedly poked a piece of tofu in her bowl with the tip of her chopsticks.
Then she felt it again.
She looked up.
Her eyes met Pei Huaijin’s.
In that moment of eye contact, Shen Qingyu saw something flicker in his eyes.
She couldn’t decipher it.
It was too complex. It felt as though he recognized her, as though he were confirming something, as though he had something to say, yet also as though he already knew the answer.
That look made her heart skip a beat. An indescribable feeling crept up from the base of her spine—tingling, electrifying—making her want to stand up and leave immediately.
Shen Qingyu averted her eyes, her movement so quick it seemed unnatural. She lowered her head, stuffed the tofu she had poked to pieces into her mouth, chewed twice, and tasted nothing.
Her heart was racing chaotically.
Is he crazy?
She thought indignantly to herself.
Seriously.
She took a big gulp of tea, trying to calm herself down. Maybe he was just that kind of person—someone whose gaze naturally carried that strange intensity. Maybe she was being too sensitive, reading meaning into an ordinary look that wasn’t there.
Yes, that must be it.
She took a deep breath. How could she let a man’s gaze unsettle her like this?
“Qingyu, what do you think?” Lin Wanru asked her with a smile.
She hadn’t heard what was just said at all, but she quickly replied, “Ah, I think it sounds good.”
Lin Wanru smiled. “Then it’s settled. Next time, Huaijin will take you.”
Only then did Shen Qingyu realize what she had just carelessly agreed to. She glanced at Manlin Jiang, who was looking at her with an expression that said, “See, what did I tell you?”—her eyes full of amusement.
“…Okay,” she said, maintaining a polite smile on her face despite herself.
Out of the corner of her eye, Pei Huaijin picked up his wine glass.
He seemed to be smiling.
She pretended not to notice.
Pei Huaijin watched as Shen Qingyu listened to his mother speak, the corners of her lips slightly curved—not too much, not too little, just the perfect expression of “a well-behaved junior listening to an elder.” Her hands were placed neatly on her knees, her back straight, her posture so proper it was as if she had been repeatedly corrected as a child—don’t slouch when sitting, a girl should have a girl’s demeanor.
The pale yellow dress fit her perfectly, the neckline neither too high nor too low. Her hair fell gently, pinned behind her ears with a pearl clip, revealing her fair neck and the small pearls on her earlobes. Her makeup was just right—not heavy or flashy, every stroke applied exactly where it should be.
From head to toe, every detail proclaimed: I am a well-behaved, rule-abiding girl who gives her parents no trouble.
Pei Huaijin took a sip of wine.
Well-behaved girl.
He chewed over these three words in his mind, feeling an indescribable sense of absurdity.
That night, he had witnessed another side of this “well-behaved girl.”
She hadn’t spoken in that obedient, proper tone then. Instead, she had said—
Pei Huaijin’s lips twitched slightly.
“Handsome, you brought me here to a hotel, aren’t you coming up with me?”
“Or is it that you can’t handle it?”
“This is my first time tonight, so you’re getting a bargain.”
Pei Huaijin’s smile was becoming harder to suppress.
“Huaijin,” Lin Wanru’s voice suddenly cut in, “what are you smiling about?”
Pei Huaijin immediately straightened his expression and glanced at his mother. “Nothing.”
Lin Wanru gave him a reproachful look but didn’t press further, turning back to continue chatting with Manlin Jiang.
Pei Huaijin watched as Shen Qingyu drank her soup with great refinement—her spoon never clinked against the bowl, and after finishing, she gently dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin, her movements as elegant as if she were filming an etiquette tutorial.
Pei Huaijin looked at her and suddenly remembered how she had been when she was drunk that night.
She really was full of contrasts.
And the way she looked at him now was as innocent as a blank sheet of paper.
Two possibilities.
First: She was pretending.
Second: She genuinely didn’t remember him.
Pei Huaijin weighed both possibilities in his mind and felt the first was more likely. After all, no matter how drunk she was that night, it was impossible to have no recollection at all, right?
But if she was pretending—
Pei Huaijin’s gaze swept slowly over her face, the corners of his lips twitching almost imperceptibly.
Then she was doing an excellent job.
So excellent that if he hadn’t personally experienced that night, he might truly believe that this girl sitting with perfect posture, a proper smile, and a gentle voice was the Shen Qingyu his mother described as “a well-behaved girl since childhood, never giving her parents any trouble.”
Pei Huaijin leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the table, but his attention was entirely on the woman sitting across from him.
He was wondering whether she remembered him at all.
If she didn’t—
Pei Huaijin turned this possibility over in his mind once more.
Had she really forgotten him? Completely forgotten him?
For some inexplicable reason, this possibility made him feel a little uncomfortable. He couldn’t quite put his finger on the feeling—it wasn’t anger, nor was it hurt. He wasn’t so fragile as to be hurt just because a one-night stand didn’t remember him. It was more of an indescribable, subtle sensation.
That night, the moment her body tensed, her fingers dug into his arm, her nails sinking into his skin, making him gasp in pain.
She didn’t know how to breathe properly when kissing, often turning red in the face from holding her breath. She boasted about having a “great figure,” but when he really looked at her, she would still shy away, turning her face aside, the tips of her ears flushing as red as if they were about to bleed.
She claimed, “This is my first time tonight, so you’re getting a bargain,” but when it came down to it, she trembled with nervousness, her fingers clutching the bedsheet until her knuckles turned white.
Her words were wilder than anyone’s, but her body was more honest than anyone’s.
Yet now, sitting across from him, her gaze was as clean and detached as if she were looking at a complete stranger.
Interesting.
Whether she was pretending or genuinely didn’t remember, it was interesting.
If she was pretending, he wanted to see how long she could keep it up.
If she really didn’t remember—
He was curious to know what expression she would wear when she finally remembered.