Category: Captivating Beauty

Chapter 76 p1

Zhou Pei.

Xu Jinnan had suspected her ever since discovering her connection to Lu Yun…

But hearing her name confirmed, she still felt a pang of surprise and disappointment.

Shen Shu had been the first person she met in this world.

And Zhou Pei, the first person she had trusted.

Initially, having read the first half of the novel, she had seen Zhou Pei as a loyal and efficient assistant, the kind any executive would appreciate.

Then, she had discovered Zhou Pei’s true allegiance to Lu Yun.

Xu Jinnan put down her phone, her thoughts a tangled mess, like a muddy pond, slowly settling, the murky water gradually clearing, revealing the truth hidden beneath.

Once you knew the outcome, you could retrace the steps, connect the dots.

She mentally reviewed every interaction she had had with Zhou Pei, every detail, every seemingly insignificant event.

Her expression hardened as the pieces fell into place.

Shen Shu, also woken by the vibrating phone, had heard Xu Jinnan’s side of the conversation, and while she hadn’t caught the name, seeing Xu Jinnan’s grim expression, she felt a surge of anxiety.

She sat up and looked at Xu Jinnan, her hand reaching out to gently pat Xu Jinnan’s hand, which was resting on the blanket.

Xu Jinnan instinctively grasped her hand, her mind still racing.

Zhou Pei was the one behind the stalker, the one who had access to the company’s security system.

The attack on Shen Shu hadn’t been entirely a coincidence; Zhou Pei must have informed the woman that Xu Jinnan wouldn’t be at the office that day.

And what about Yin Xue?

Zhou Pei had been the one investigating Yin Xue’s unauthorized entry into the hospital, but she had found nothing. Xu Jinnan had assumed it was a dead end.

But now, she suspected Zhou Pei had been the one who helped Yin Xue, or perhaps she had simply been covering for her.

“Yin Xue,” she murmured.

“What?” Shen Shu asked.

Xu Jinnan turned to her, her eyes dark. “The white powder Yin Xue used in Rongcheng… what if Zhou Pei was the one who gave it to her?”

Zhou Pei had been her assistant, privy to her schedule, even with Xu Jinnan’s attempts to maintain a certain distance.

If Zhou Pei had been in contact with Yin Xue, it would explain how she obtained the drug.

Of course, it was just a theory.

The cool autumn air, crisp and clear, filled the room, the occasional chirping of birds outside a stark contrast to the heavy silence within.

Only the sunlight streaming through the window offered a glimmer of hope.

Shen Shu, meeting Xu Jinnan’s gaze, felt her hand turn cold in Xu Jinnan’s grasp, the coldness spreading through her as she listened to Xu Jinnan’s words.

She covered Xu Jinnan’s hand with her own, her touch gentle and reassuring.

Then who is behind Zhou Pei? Xu Jinnan wondered, several names coming to mind.

Shen Shu’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure, but I saw Zhou Pei with Xu Li once, at a cafe,” she said. She had been in the car with Tong Jia at the time and hadn’t been certain, thinking she might have been mistaken.

She had never seen or heard of any connection between them before, and Zhou Pei had always seemed efficient, discreet, and reserved, the kind of person who wouldn’t cause trouble.

“If it’s Xu Li, what’s her motive? Does she think hurting you will hurt me?” Xu Jinnan asked, taking a deep breath.

If Xu Li was simply after the inheritance, her hatred for Xu Jinnan shouldn’t be this intense…

“It could also be Lu Yun,” Xu Jinnan said.

Lu Yun had always disliked Shen Shu, blaming her for Xu Jinnan’s recent rebellious behavior.

If that was the case, then Xu Tao was also a suspect.

“Don’t overthink it,” Shen Shu said, sensing Xu Jinnan’s distress. “Xu Jinnan.”

“There might be others I don’t know about,” Xu Jinnan said, her voice low.

“Xu Jinnan, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” Shen Shu said, cupping Xu Jinnan’s face in her hands. “Zhou Pei doesn’t know we’re onto her. Finding out who’s behind her won’t be difficult.”

Xu Jinnan took Shen Shu’s hand and, after looking at her for a moment, rested her forehead against Shen Shu’s palm, her head bowed.

She took a deep breath, the familiar scent of vanilla calming her racing heart, easing her anxiety.

“You’re right,” she murmured.

Li Lan had said she would handle the investigation discreetly, with Xu Jinnan’s cooperation. As long as they kept an eye on Zhou Pei, they would eventually uncover the truth.

—

It was almost noon.

Zhou Pei entered Xu Jinnan’s office, carrying a folder.

“Miss, this is the contract from the Chen family. They asked you to review it and let them know if you have any questions,” she said, her use of the honorific “Miss,” more intimate than the usual “CEO Xu,” creating a sense of familiarity.

She placed the folder on the desk.

Xu Jinnan looked up at her. “With the North District project, I’ve been delegating a lot of work to Viola. Are you… upset about that? You can tell me,” she asked, her voice gentle.

Zhou Pei looked surprised, then shook her head. “No, it’s just work. I understand.” Her answer was simple and direct.

Xu Jinnan had always admired her efficiency and professionalism.

“Good. You’ve been with me for so long, and while I’ve been relying on Viola lately, I still trust you more than anyone else in this company,” Xu Jinnan said, her gaze fixed on the open folder, as if she had just thought of it.

Zhou Pei smiled faintly. “Thank you for your trust, Miss.”

Xu Jinnan nodded, and Zhou Pei turned to leave.

As she reached the door, she felt Xu Jinnan’s gaze on her back and instinctively looked over her shoulder, but Xu Jinnan was still reading the contract, her expression focused.

—

Two hours later, Xu Jinnan, her back aching from sitting for so long, stood up and stretched, then took out her phone and messaged Tong Jia, asking when Shen Shu would be done filming.

Tong Jia replied quickly: [Around 6 p.m.]

Tong Jia: [Going to Cai Ying’s place tonight.]

Xu Jinnan assumed Shen Shu would also want to check on Cai Ying, and after a moment of thought, she closed Tong Jia’s chat and opened Cai Ying’s.

She couldn’t find her in her recent contacts, finally locating her in the group chat member list – a solid black profile picture.

Xu Jinnan: “…”

She remembered doing the same thing when she was younger, around thirteen or fourteen, whenever she was upset – deleting all her social media posts and changing her profile picture to something blank, as if seeking a sense of emotional detachment, a way to escape the world’s noise and find a moment of peace.

But she had outgrown that phase.

Now, she preferred to confront her problems directly, seeking solutions instead of escaping into a world of silent introspection.

Of course, everyone was different.

She understood Cai Ying was hurting.

Xu Jinnan sighed softly and sent her a link to an online menu.

[Dinner’s on me. Order whatever you want.]

After waiting for half a minute with no reply, she was about to turn off her phone when a voice message popped up.

“Xu Jinnan, do you think I’m a beggar? A single meal?”

Xu Jinnan chuckled, relieved to hear the familiar, albeit slightly weaker, defiance in Cai Ying’s voice.

She had been right; Cai Ying was resilient.

She just needed a little time.

Xu Jinnan replied playfully: [Oh, looks like you’re not even getting a meal now.]

Cai Ying: […………]

Cai Ying: [Are you human?]

Cai Ying: [Kicking me while I’m down?]

Cai Ying: [Get lost!]

Xu Jinnan raised an eyebrow, staring at the last message.

Then, it was retracted.

After a moment, Cai Ying sent another message.

[Sorry.]

[My dad told me about last night. Thank you.]

Xu Jinnan sat down on the sofa and typed a reply.

[Tell me what you want, call me ‘sis,’ and I’ll make it for you.]

Cai Ying retracted a message.

Cai Ying retracted a message.

Xu Jinnan: “…”

Cai Ying: [Go to hell.]

Xu Jinnan chuckled, taking a screenshot of the conversation and sending it to Shen Shu.

Shen Shu had been worried about Cai Ying and hadn’t slept well.

She wanted to reassure her.

—

Xu Jinnan was in a meeting about the live streaming platform’s marketing strategy when Chen Bo messaged her, saying she had become a legend among the second-generation rich kids after last night’s incident.

She didn’t need him to tell her; she had received countless calls that morning from companies seeking partnerships, at least ten.

She had only helped Cai Ying out of friendship, but it had inadvertently boosted her own reputation. Even Xu Tao didn’t have the influence to unite so many powerful figures against a common enemy.

But last night, besides Xu Tao, the Cai family, the Chen family, and even Han Fu’s mother had all sided with her.

Especially against the HP Group.

She was one step closer to her goal.

Chen Bo also mentioned Han Wenling’s engagement to the He family heiress, which had apparently been called off.

This wasn’t surprising.

After offending both the Cai family and Xu Jinnan, Han Wenling had also alienated the He family, in their eyes, and Mr. Han’s public display of disapproval had likely been the final nail in the coffin.

Xu Jinnan didn’t dwell on it.

—

The “Show” live streaming studio was on the 16th floor, and as Xu Jinnan stepped out of the elevator, she saw a crowd of crew members; they were filming in the pantry area.

They seemed to have just finished a take, and Shen Shu was talking to the director, her head slightly bowed, perhaps discussing the scene.

Xu Jinnan and Viola, after watching them for a moment, were about to return to their office when Tong Jia hurried over.

“CEO Xu, are you going to the Cai residence tonight?”

“Not sure yet,” Xu Jinnan replied. She had a meeting at Meilai Jewelry later.

Tong Jia nodded. “I’m so angry! I should have slapped her harder! All Alphas are scum!”

Xu Jinnan raised an eyebrow.

“Not you, of course,” Tong Jia added quickly.

Xu Jinnan, used to her quick backpedaling, simply said, “Let me know when Shen Shu is free.”

“Why?”

“Why should I tell you?”

Tong Jia: “…”

Childish.

As Xu Jinnan walked away, Tong Jia rolled her eyes, then noticed Viola lingering behind.

Viola was taller, even with Tong Jia’s heels.

“Miss Tong,” she said.

“Yes?”

“I’m also an Alpha.”

Tong Jia paused. “I didn’t mean you,” she said.

Viola smiled faintly. “Thank you, Miss Tong.”

After she left, Tong Jia tapped her chin thoughtfully. She’s quite sensitive.

But not in an unpleasant way.

—

Half an hour later, Xu Jinnan’s back was aching again. She was only 26, but these past few months had taken a toll on her body.

She would have to schedule another massage soon.

She turned on the massage device and leaned against the armrest of the sofa, her body slightly angled.

A knock came at the door, and she called out, “Come in,” straightening up, then froze as the door opened.

Shen Shu, seeing the massage device in her hand, walked in. “Your back acting up again?”

Xu Jinnan: “…” The phrasing was a little… suggestive.

She put away the device. “Just relaxing.”

“Oh.”

Shen Shu walked closer. “Did you need something?”

“Wait here.”

Xu Jinnan went to the small lounge area inside her office, and a few moments later, Shen Shu, hearing a buzzing sound, followed her, curious. The room was small, furnished with a black massage chair by the window, a round wicker coffee table, two armchairs, and a small counter with a sink.

Xu Jinnan was standing by the counter, pouring a glass of grape juice from a juicer.

“Sit on the sofa. The chairs here are uncomfortable,” she said, gesturing towards the living room.

Back on the sofa, Shen Shu looked at the glass of grape juice, then said calmly, “I’m not thirsty.”

Xu Jinnan looked at her for a moment. Shen Shu had been avoiding grapes since the parking garage incident, likely because of the stalker.

Knowing Shen Shu was usually picky about fruit, grapes being one of the few she enjoyed, Xu Jinnan had been trying to… reintroduce them, to help her overcome her aversion.

“Okay, I’ll leave it here then,” she said, placing the glass on the coffee table.

Shen Shu picked up the massage device Xu Jinnan had been using, a pink, handheld device.

Xu Jinnan looked at her, and Shen Shu, after a moment of silence, said, “I’ll have a little.”

Xu Jinnan immediately handed her the glass.

“You’re sneaky,” Shen Shu muttered, taking the glass.

Xu Jinnan chuckled. “Just a little. You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to,” she said gently, not wanting to pressure her.

Shen Shu’s long eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks as she lowered her head to take a sip, her lips brushing against the rim of the glass. Since she hadn’t reached for the glass, Xu Jinnan had to lift it slightly to accommodate her.

Shen Shu sometimes enjoyed this… special treatment, the way Xu Jinnan’s eyes softened with indulgence, making her feel pampered and powerful.

No one could resist this side of Xu Jinnan.

A drop of juice escaped her lips, sliding down her chin, and Xu Jinnan, taking the glass from her, gently wiped it away with a tissue.

Shen Shu, thinking she hadn’t cleaned it properly, licked her lip, the gesture unexpectedly sensual, making Xu Jinnan’s eyes darken.

And Shen Shu’s gaze, as she did so, was fixed on Xu Jinnan’s face.

It was almost too much.

Shen Shu’s gaze drifted from Xu Jinnan’s eyes to her throat, her thoughts wandering, when a sudden buzzing sound made her look down.

“Oops,” Xu Jinnan said, her hand slipping, the glass tilting, the grape juice spilling onto Shen Shu’s black skirt.

Xu Jinnan: “…”

Shen Shu: “…”

—

 

Chapter 75

The sharp crack of Cai Ying’s slap echoed through the room, making everyone gasp.

Most of them didn’t recognize Cai Ying, but everyone knew Han Wenling.

At least, everyone at this banquet did.

Han Wenling had been slapped before, as a child, by both her parents.

A few incidents stood out in her memory.

Once, when her parents were divorcing, her mother, drunk, had slapped her.

Another time, when Han Wenfang had fallen and hit her head on a flowerpot, their father, assuming Han Wenling had pushed her, had slapped her. Her stepmother had been there too, holding Han Wenfang, her face impassive. Han Wenling had been only nine years old.

Both times, the burning sting on her cheek, the tears streaming down her face, had been an involuntary reaction to the physical and emotional pain.

But she hadn’t cried since she was nine.

She had become like the moss-covered stone in the garden she had seen that day, cold and unyielding.

It wasn’t the stone that had injured Han Wenfang.

It was the stone that had broken her heart.

Now, looking down at Cai Ying, she felt a strange warmth spreading through her chest, her heart, usually cold and still, beating slowly, then quickening as a tear traced a path down Cai Ying’s cheek.

A burning sensation.

“Cai Ying,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, lost in the noise of the banquet hall, a sound only she could hear.

“Are you crazy?!”

The woman beside Han Wenling, reacting first, shoved Cai Ying.

Cai Ying stumbled backward, caught by Shen Shu, who instinctively stepped in front of her, shielding her protectively, her anger flaring at the woman’s aggressive behavior.

Xu Jinnan also reacted instantly, stepping forward to stand in front of Shen Shu and Cai Ying.

He Qing, the He family heiress, recently returned from abroad, wasn’t familiar with these people.

She only sensed a dangerous aura emanating from the woman in front of her, a subtle dominance, especially in her sharp, almond-shaped eyes, that made her instinctively wary.

She had already lost this battle.

“Nan-jie!” Chen Bo exclaimed nervously.

There was only one person in North City who was addressed with such deference. He Qing paused, the words “Miss Xu” still forming on her lips.

Xu Jinnan glanced at her coldly, then turned to Han Wenling.

Chen Bo, seeing this, hurried over, his voice low and urgent. “Nan-jie, calm down! Don’t do anything rash!”

He was genuinely afraid of what she might do.

This wasn’t on the same level as Cai Ying’s slap.

This was a public place, with too many people, too many prying eyes. It wasn’t the time or place for a confrontation.

Han Wenling, looking at Xu Jinnan’s cold, impassive face, her thoughts racing, then her gaze shifted to the person behind her.

Cai Ying stepped forward, tears streaming down her face, her eyes red and swollen.

She blinked, trying to hold back the tears, then stood directly in front of Han Wenling, her hand, still stinging from the slap, trembling slightly.

She looked at Han Wenling for a long moment, her gaze unwavering, then lowered her head and tried to unclasp the bracelet on her wrist, the sparkling diamonds now like icy shackles, a cold weight on her skin.

But she couldn’t unclasp it.

Shen Shu reached out to help, but Cai Ying, with a sudden surge of anger, ripped the bracelet from her wrist, a single pink diamond, the most beautiful one on the delicate silver chain, flying off and disappearing into the crowd.

“Han Wenling,” she said, her voice trembling, the name, both familiar and unfamiliar, a bitter taste on her tongue, “I was blind.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “From now on, I wouldn’t look at you even if you were a dog.”

“I swear.”

—

Cai Ying turned and walked away, her head held high, the crowd parting slightly as she passed.

Xu Jinnan glanced at Han Wenling, then, without another word, followed Shen Shu and Cai Ying.

That single glance was enough for Chen Bo to sense the shift in the atmosphere.

“This isn’t good…” he muttered, watching the three women leave, then turned to Han Wenling and He Qing. “Miss Han, that Miss Cai is the only daughter of the Cai family.”

Not only was she the apple of her father’s eye, but Xu Jinnan and Shen Shu’s protectiveness towards her was also a clear sign that this wasn’t a trivial matter.

And that look in Xu Jinnan’s eyes…

While the Han family was almost equal in status to the Xu family, it wasn’t quite there yet.

And Xu Jinnan’s own influence was considerable. If she decided to retaliate on Cai Ying’s behalf, combined with the Cai family’s own power, Han Wenling would be in serious trouble.

He was certain of it.

Han Wenling didn’t reply, her gaze following Cai Ying’s retreating figure, her eyelashes fluttering slightly.

“What just happened? I thought I was helping you avoid trouble, but now it seems like I’ve caused even more,” He Qing said, pulling her hand away from Han Wenling’s arm.

—

Outside the hotel, Cai Ying’s tears flowed freely, her face wet and streaked with mascara.

Hearing Shen Shu call her name, she stopped, then turned and threw herself into Shen Shu’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

Images of her time with Han Wenling flashed through her mind – their first meeting at the studio, their first tutoring session at the library, their first date at the mall, holding hands, their first kiss at the movie theater.

Han Wenling had always been kind, gentle, and patient, her occasional moments of introspection only adding to her allure. Cai Ying had never suspected she was being deceived.

Even her name was fake.

Every word, every gesture, a carefully crafted lie.

And she even had a fiancée… Did that make Cai Ying the “other woman”?

The thought made her cry even harder, Han Wenling’s confession a knife twisting in her heart.

She had been betrayed again.

“Shu Shu, do I look that easy to fool? I’m so heartbroken…”

Shen Shu’s heart ached, her anger flaring. She wanted to go back inside and slap Han Wenling again.

“They’re the ones who are messed up,” she said, her voice tight with anger, gently patting Cai Ying’s back.

Xu Jinnan stood beside them, sighing inwardly. While she usually enjoyed teasing Cai Ying, seeing her cry like this made her feel strangely protective, especially noticing Shen Shu’s worried expression.

After a while, Cai Ying pulled away from Shen Shu’s embrace, her eyes meeting Shen Shu’s. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice choked with sobs. “It’s not like I haven’t dealt with scumbags before. I’ll be over it in a few days.”

But her heart ached, a heavy, suffocating pain, like a balloon inflated to its bursting point.

Giving your heart to someone, only to have it trampled and discarded…

It was a disgusting feeling.

She never wanted to see Han Wenling’s face again.

Shen Shu’s heart ached even more, and she was about to turn around and go back inside when Xu Jinnan gently grasped her arm.

“You two go wait in the car,” she said, her thumb gently caressing Shen Shu’s wrist. “I’ll handle this.”

While Cai Ying and Han Wenling hadn’t been together for very long, Xu Jinnan could tell Cai Ying had been deeply invested in the relationship.

Despite her claims of wanting to “seduce” her tutor, Cai Ying was a genuine and passionate person, the type to give her heart freely and without reservation.

Shen Shu wouldn’t let this go.

And besides their connection through Shen Shu, Xu Jinnan also considered Cai Ying a friend, almost a younger sister.

“Where are you going?” Shen Shu asked.

Xu Jinnan glanced at Cai Ying, whose eyes were still filled with tears, then said, “Mr. Cai is inside. He must have heard the commotion. You two shouldn’t get involved in this.”

Cai Ying, wiping away her tears, seemed to realize the implications of slapping Han Wenling, the eldest daughter of the HP Group.

“Did I cause trouble for my dad?” she asked, fresh tears streaming down her face, her heartbreak still raw.

“You didn’t cause any trouble,” Shen Shu said softly.

“Shu Shu’s right,” Xu Jinnan said, her fingers toying with the pearl and gold necklace, which suddenly felt too tight. “With me here, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

She watched as they got into the car, telling Viola to stay with them, then turned and reentered the hotel.

—

Chen Bo, unsure if Xu Jinnan would return, had been waiting at the entrance after informing his father of her arrival.

Seeing her now, his eyes lit up, and he hurried over to greet her.

Without a word, Xu Jinnan had him lead her to the VIP area.

It was a lavishly decorated room, filled with North City’s business elite. Chen Bo’s father, the guest of honor, sat at the head of the table.

Xu Tao sat on one side, the Han family on the other.

The remaining guests included the matriarch of the HL Group, Director Song, Han Fu’s mother, and a few other prominent figures.

As Xu Jinnan entered, she saw Cai Ying’s father, his face grim, walking towards the exit.

“Mr. Cai, please wait a moment,” she said, her voice calm and clear. “Shu Shu is waiting for her in the car.”

Mr. Cai, his hair streaked with gray despite being only 48, his face pale, nodded at Xu Jinnan, his tone grateful. “I know you’re protecting her. Thank you.”

“Now, now, Mr. Cai, don’t jump to conclusions. There might be a misunderstanding,” the matriarch of the HL Group said.

Xu Jinnan smiled faintly. “You’re right, Mrs. He. It was a misunderstanding. But the one who caused it was Miss Han.” She turned to the Han patriarch. “With your impending merger, I thought it best to clarify things, to avoid any unpleasant rumors.”

She briefly explained the situation, starting with Han Wenling’s fake identity as a tutor.

“I have to say, Miss Han’s deception was quite impressive. Even I was fooled,” she said, looking at CEO Han.

Mr. Cai scoffed. “How dare she! I’ve heard about your daughter’s reputation, Mr. Han, but I never thought she would target my family. Does she think the Cai family is easy to bully?”

“Mr. Han, you owe me an explanation! Or should I seek it myself?”

“Mr. Cai, please calm down,” Xu Jinnan said, her voice soothing. “Cai Ying is Shu Shu’s friend, and my friend.”

Her stance was clear.

Xu Tao, who had been silent, finally spoke. “While it might seem like a trivial matter between children, Miss Han’s actions were inappropriate.”

Xu Jinnan wasn’t surprised by his intervention. He enjoyed seeing the Han family lose face, and he always supported her in public, especially now.

Chen Bo’s father, his attitude towards Xu Jinnan having changed considerably, also spoke up, despite his position as the host, wanting to maintain a neutral stance, but also wanting to show respect for Xu Jinnan and Xu Tao.

“I think it’s best to clarify things. Why don’t we have Miss Han explain herself? Mrs. He, Mr. Han, what do you think? We’re all friends here. Let’s not let this create any unnecessary conflict.”

Mrs. He was speechless. Most of the influential figures in the room were siding with Xu Jinnan. What could she do?

She suddenly regretted agreeing to the engagement with Han Wenling, which had seemed like a strategic alliance, considering Han Wenling’s promising future. Now, she was trapped.

The Xu family alone was a formidable opponent.

What had Han Wenling done?!

Mr. Han, his face pale and his breathing labored, slammed his hand on the table. “That ungrateful wretch! Bring her here!”

Han Wenling was quickly summoned. She had a feeling she knew what this was about.

Slap!

Mr. Han, his hand trembling, stood up and slapped her hard across the face, her lip splitting at the impact.

—

Half an hour later, Xu Jinnan and Mr. Cai left the hotel and returned to the car.

Mr. Cai woke Cai Ying, who, seeing his face, immediately clung to him, her voice choked with tears. “Dad…”

He patted her back gently. “It’s okay. Daddy’s here.”

Cai Ying tried to speak, but he stopped her. “It’s not your fault. It’s my fault. I didn’t even know you were dating. I’ve been too busy, too neglectful.”

Seeing her tear-streaked face and red, swollen eyes, his heart ached, and he forced himself to calm down, soothing her before turning to Xu Jinnan and thanking her.

Xu Jinnan and Shen Shu shook their heads. “It was nothing, Mr. Cai. You should take her home now,” Shen Shu said.

“Indeed. There’s no need for further thanks,” Xu Jinnan added. Shen Shu had always been kind to Cai Ying, encouraging her and supporting her, even inspiring her to focus on her studies, along with Xu Jinnan’s own words of encouragement.

Mr. Cai looked at Xu Jinnan. “Xiao Xu, words can’t express my gratitude. From now on, the Cai family is your ally. No matter what.” Xu Jinnan had risked offending both the Han and He families with her actions tonight.

He could tell it wasn’t just a strategic move to gain the Cai family’s support; she genuinely cared about Cai Ying.

Besides, after decades in the business world, he had a keen sense for these things – Xu Jinnan was a rising star, a force to be reckoned with.

—

Viola drove Xu Jinnan and Shen Shu back to Xingcheng International.

Shen Shu remained silent during the drive, her calm demeanor masking her anger.

Xu Jinnan moved closer to her, taking her hand, and didn’t speak until they were back in the apartment, then whispered, “I promised you, if it was Han Wenling, I would rip her head off.” While it was meant as a joke, there was a steely undertone to her voice.

“Don’t worry, Han Wenling will be paying for this for a long time,” she continued.

She had expected a fight, but Mr. Han, without even asking for an explanation, had publicly slapped his daughter, a clear message to everyone present.

He had then announced that Han Wenling was being relieved of all her duties, further solidifying her downfall.

Actions had consequences.

Xu Jinnan briefly explained what had happened.

Her calm, soothing voice, her warm breath, slightly tinged with alcohol, eased Shen Shu’s lingering anger.

“Cai Ying has her own path to walk. Perhaps this is a necessary step in her growth,” Xu Jinnan said.

“I’d rather she didn’t have to grow up,” Shen Shu replied softly, her voice full of a wistful longing for Cai Ying’s continued innocence.

It was a selfish thought.

She knew Cai Ying, as the sole heiress of the Cai family, would eventually have to face the harsh realities of the business world, even with professional managers to assist her.

Cai Ying’s father, Shen Shu, and Xu Jinnan could protect her for now, but not forever.

“At least not like this,” Shen Shu said.

Xu Jinnan wasn’t sure how to comfort her. Life wasn’t fair, and she herself had experienced more in the past few months than most people did in a lifetime.

You could only learn from your experiences and become more discerning.

She gently stroked Shen Shu’s hair, her fingers brushing against the back of her neck, untangling a strand of hair caught in the lace of her dress.

“I understand,” she murmured.

The light touch on her neck, and the faint scent of alcohol on Xu Jinnan’s breath, drew Shen Shu’s attention.

“Have you been drinking?”

“A couple of glasses,” Xu Jinnan replied.

Her lips, slightly dry from the alcohol, looked like parched leaves.

With so many important figures present, especially Chen Bo’s father, who had shown her considerable respect, she had to make an effort.

Achieving her goals sometimes required… social lubrication.

But the thought was fleeting.

She bent down to retrieve their slippers from the shoe rack, the fitted dress clinging to her slender frame.

As she stood up, the pearls and gold chain around her neck swayed gently.

“Aren’t you cold?” Shen Shu asked.

“I didn’t notice until you mentioned it,” Xu Jinnan replied, rubbing her arms, a slight shiver running through her.

“Go take a shower then,” Shen Shu said.

Xu Jinnan, seeing Shen Shu’s insistence, nodded and retrieved a two-piece silk pajama set.

—

After their showers, neither of them felt like watching TV, so they sat on the bed, one with her phone, the other with a book.

Xu Jinnan was typing on her phone, while Shen Shu was reading The Ferryman.

Xu Jinnan scrolled through the messages in her work group chat. They were discussing the team-building event again.

Designer Qi: [CEO Xu, about that camping trip with hot springs… should we start planning?]

HR: [Raises hand emoji]

Finance Director Nana: [Raises hand emoji]

Admin Liu: [Hot springs!!!]

The company had been performing well, exceeding their KPIs for the first half of the year in just two weeks, and after a period of intense work, they deserved a break.

Xu Jinnan: [Okay.]

Xu Jinnan: [@Admin Liu Look into it early next month. Find a suitable location and date.]

Admin Liu: [Roger that! Thank you, boss!]

Designer Qi: [Thank you, boss!]

Finance Director Nana: [CEO Xu, we can bring our families, right? Grinning emoji]

Xu Jinnan immediately replied, “Yes,” then, as they asked if she would be bringing her wife, she paused, glancing at Shen Shu.

Shen Shu, her dark hair in a messy bun, looked up, sensing her gaze.

“What?” she asked, her mood still slightly subdued after the Cai Ying incident.

Xu Jinnan showed her the messages, then, after a moment, asked, “Are you going?”

“Do you want me to go?”

“Of course I want you to go,” Xu Jinnan replied without thinking.

Then, she reconsidered. Camping and hot springs… both presented opportunities for… activities. She had thought about this when they had first suggested it, but she had completely forgotten just now.

Shen Shu, a flicker of amusement in her eyes, nodded. “I’ll check my schedule,” she said, turning a page in her book, her voice calm. “I’ll try to make it.”

Xu Jinnan’s ear tingled at her tone.

“Is it good?” she asked. “The book, I mean.”

Shen Shu closed the book, the cover showing a bright yellow sun breaking through dark purple clouds, its reflection shimmering on the surface of the ocean, a small boat silhouetted against the horizon.

The title: If I Stay.

“It’s good,” Shen Shu replied.

“Dylan is sent to the afterlife by Tristan, but then she realizes what she truly wants and decides to return, despite the dangers. Tristan, however, is now like Dylan was at the beginning, cautious and afraid of breaking the rules… I haven’t finished it yet, but I think it has a happy ending,” she explained.

Xu Jinnan, looking at the title, felt a pang of emotion. “It sounds… hopeful.”

—

Time passed, and at 11 p.m., Shen Shu put down her book. “Aren’t you going to sleep?”

“Soon. You go ahead,” Xu Jinnan replied.

She turned off the living room lights, leaving only the bedside lamp on.

A few minutes later, hearing Shen Shu shift on the bed, she quickly finished replying to her messages and turned off the light.

The room was plunged into darkness.

Xu Jinnan lay down, feeling drowsy after only two glasses of wine. “Good night, Shu Shu,” she murmured.

Shen Shu didn’t reply, and Xu Jinnan turned to her, her eyes still adjusting to the darkness, about to speak, when Shen Shu’s blanket shifted, the warmth of her body followed by a sudden coolness as she moved closer, then the warmth returned as she snuggled against Xu Jinnan, her arm wrapping around her waist.

Xu Jinnan’s heart skipped a beat, a pleasant flutter in her chest.

“Xu Jinnan.”

“Yes?”

“Your heart is racing.”

“…It is,” Xu Jinnan replied, thinking, Because you’re holding me so tight, your ear pressed against my collarbone, that’s why my heart is racing.

Shen Shu’s fingers gently poked her side.

Xu Jinnan opened her eyes, chuckling softly. “Where did you learn that habit? Poking people’s sides?”

“From you,” Shen Shu replied.

Xu Jinnan’s throat tightened.

…Touché.

After a moment, she gently disentangled herself from Shen Shu’s embrace, cupping her face in her hands and kissing her softly.

“Go to sleep,” she murmured, her breath warm against Shen Shu’s cheek, then took Shen Shu’s hand, her fingers interlaced with hers, as if afraid she would move again.

Xu Jinnan’s skin was warm and clean, the faint scent of alcohol still lingering.

A subtle, intoxicating fragrance.

“Just one?” Shen Shu whispered.

Xu Jinnan took a deep breath. Here we go again.

Since that night, these… tests had become more frequent. And Shen Shu seemed bolder now, her touch more deliberate, her words more suggestive.

It made Xu Jinnan feel strangely passive.

Her eyes darkened as she leaned in, their foreheads touching.

As they pulled away, their breathing slightly ragged, the only sound in the room the gentle rustling of the wind outside, like a soft melody accompanying their silent symphony.

Xu Jinnan’s lips, no longer dry, glistened in the darkness.

“Shu Shu, only puppies do that,” she murmured, her voice husky.

Shen Shu’s face burned in the darkness, and she leaned in again, gently biting Xu Jinnan’s lower lip.

Xu Jinnan winced, a soft hiss escaping her lips.

Shen Shu pushed her away, then, when Xu Jinnan didn’t resist, simply lay back down, a chuckle escaping her lips. “See? I told you.”

“You’re annoying,” she murmured.

“Yes, I am,” Xu Jinnan replied, accepting the accusation with a smile.

Shen Shu, hearing the amusement in her voice, playfully slapped her arm, the light touch a subtle caress.

She turned over, her back to Xu Jinnan. “Go to sleep,” she said.

Xu Jinnan also turned over, her gaze lingering on Shen Shu’s bare shoulder, then she pulled the blanket higher, covering her.

“Good night,” she whispered.

—

The peaceful silence of early morning was shattered by a vibrating phone.

Xu Jinnan reached for it, glancing at Shen Shu, who had also been woken by the noise. She picked up her own phone; it was Li Lan.

Li Lan wouldn’t call at this hour unless it was important.

Unless there had been a breakthrough in the stalker case.

Xu Jinnan was instantly wide awake, sitting up in bed. “She confessed,” Li Lan said.

Xu Jinnan waited for the name.

“Zhou Pei.”

Chapter 74

Xu Jinnan and Shen Shu were both wearing pearl-colored gowns. Xu Jinnan’s was a slip dress with two thin pearl strands draped around her neck, the largest pearl dangling between her breasts, swaying gently with her movements.

Shen Shu’s dress, custom-made to match Xu Jinnan’s, had a similar neckline, but with lace and sequins covering most of her chest, as she preferred not to show too much skin. However, the elegant lines of her bare back were still a captivating sight.

As they stepped out of the car, arm in arm, they drew all eyes, like celebrities on a red carpet.

Tan Jie, arriving at the same time, felt a pang of jealousy as she watched them approach. Even her meticulously chosen designer gown seemed to pale in comparison to Shen Shu’s effortless elegance.

And it was all because of Xu Jinnan.

Without Xu Jinnan, Shen Shu wouldn’t be anyone.

She maintained a polite smile, then, seeing Chen Bo at the entrance, assumed he was waiting for her, and walked towards him, her head held high.

Before she could reach the steps, she heard Chen Bo’s voice call out, “Nan-jie! I’ve been waiting for you! My father’s waiting too. Sister-in-law…” His voice softened considerably on the last word.

They were walking ahead, not noticing Tan Jie behind them.

After a moment, Chen Bo glanced back, then smiled. “Miss Tan, you’re here too.”

Tan Jie’s expression softened slightly as she walked over, greeting Chen Bo before turning to Xu Jinnan and Shen Shu.

“CEO Xu, Shu Shu, it seems we’re destined to meet,” she said warmly.

Xu Jinnan smiled faintly, not replying, and Shen Shu simply nodded. “Teacher Tan.”

Tan Jie seemed to have a particular interest in Xu Jinnan, perhaps because of Xu Jinnan’s earlier flirtatious behavior, constantly seeking her attention.

Xu Jinnan felt Shen Shu’s arm tense slightly, as if she was about to pull away, and instinctively tightened her grip, their skin brushing against each other.

Shen Shu didn’t move again.

Just as they were about to enter the hotel, Chen Bo turned to Tan Jie. “Miss Tan, why don’t you go inside first? I’ll find you later,” he said.

Tan Jie: “…”

He continued chatting with Xu Jinnan, oblivious to her displeasure.

While Tan Jie was a relatively well-known actress, to him, she was just a slightly more prestigious version of an internet celebrity.

Just another Omega to flirt with when he was bored.

With Xu Jinnan here, he had no interest in other women. His father was waiting to speak to her, and Xu Jinnan’s status had changed considerably.

It might sound exaggerated, but his father had actually intended to greet her personally.

However, having already welcomed Xu Tao earlier, it would have been inappropriate to show Xu Jinnan the same level of deference.

“Nan-jie, about that land you suggested I use for the online platform, the one for the live streaming company… my father didn’t understand at first, he was even a little skeptical, but after meeting you the other day…” He paused as someone greeted him, then continued, “Especially with your recent successful investments, he’s practically begging me to join your team.”

Xu Jinnan thought Chen Bo, despite his playboy ways, had a good eye for opportunities and a wide network of connections. He would be a valuable asset in this industry.

His father, worried about Xu Jinnan’s influence on his son, had even invited her to dinner.

The conversation had been pleasant, and she had even shared some of her insights and resources.

The Chen family’s businesses were mostly traditional, recently expanding into real estate and catering, but with limited success. Her advice, forward-thinking and innovative, had impressed Mr. Chen.

Besides discussing investment strategies, she had also shared her views on the current stock market trends and other financial matters.

By the end of the dinner, Mr. Chen, after a glass of baijiu(Traditional Chinese liquor), had asked her to mentor his son.

Since he had made the request, she would grant him the favor.

“As long as he doesn’t cause any trouble,” she had said.

Chen Bo had a sort of hero worship for the original Xu Jinnan, often imitating her behavior, but Xu Jinnan wasn’t interested in being anyone’s savior.

This was a business transaction, a mutually beneficial exchange of favors.

In the business world, it was all about profit and connections.

Chen Bo had promised to be on his best behavior, to follow her instructions without question.

He led them towards the VIP area, where North City’s business elite were gathered. In the past, she wouldn’t have been allowed in this exclusive circle.

It was a world of sharks, and as a junior, she hadn’t been worthy of their attention.

But now, she was.

She wasn’t particularly interested, but she still had to make an appearance – whether she enjoyed it or not, gaining access to this elite circle was one of her goals.

Shen Shu definitely wouldn’t be joining them, so she turned to her, intending to discuss it, then noticed Shen Shu was looking down at her phone. “Isn’t Cai Ying here yet?” she asked.

“I’ll call her,” Shen Shu replied.

Cai Ying had said she would be waiting at the entrance, but they hadn’t seen her, and she hadn’t replied to their messages.

“Who are you looking for? I can help,” Chen Bo offered.

Xu Jinnan, her chin lifting slightly, said, “Over there.”

Shen Shu followed her gaze and saw a figure in a lilac dress, standing alone like a solitary lily in a crowded garden.

Xu Jinnan and Shen Shu walked towards her, telling Chen Bo to go ahead and greet his father.

He agreed, but lingered, intending to escort them to the VIP area after they found Cai Ying.

As they approached, they saw Cai Ying still searching for someone, her movements slightly frantic.

She had been looking for Han Ling, whom she thought she had seen earlier, but the figure had disappeared.

She had been scanning the crowd for a while, but hadn’t seen her again.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned around to see Xu Jinnan and Shen Shu, realizing she had forgotten about them.

“What are you looking at? We called you, but you didn’t even hear us,” Shen Shu said.

Cai Ying, embarrassed, stuck out her tongue. She had been too preoccupied, even ignoring her phone.

“I thought I saw Teacher Han. It startled me,” she explained.

A waiter approached, and Xu Jinnan ordered two glasses of orange juice, one for Shen Shu, one for herself.

As Shen Shu took the juice, she said to Cai Ying, “Didn’t she say she also had a banquet to attend? Did you ask where it was?”

“You can ask her,” Xu Jinnan said, gesturing towards Cai Ying’s phone.

Cai Ying’s smile faltered. “It’s probably not her,” she said quickly. The person she had seen had been with another woman.

Perhaps she had been mistaken.

“Okay,” Xu Jinnan said, shrugging and taking a sip of her juice. She turned to Shen Shu. “You two can chat. I’ll be back in a bit.” She just needed to make a brief appearance; she wasn’t staying long, and she had already eaten.

“Okay,” Shen Shu replied, nodding.

The crowd was getting larger, and people were staring, so Xu Jinnan suggested they find a quieter spot to sit and wait for her.

“Don’t worry, I can handle this. I’ll protect Shu Shu,” Cai Ying said, puffing out her chest.

They started walking, but before they could even take two steps, someone stopped Xu Jinnan, wanting to chat.

Cai Ying and Shen Shu exchanged a look, stepping aside. “Your wife is quite popular now, isn’t she?” Cai Ying commented.

Shen Shu glanced at Xu Jinnan, her long, wavy brown hair cascading over her shoulders, the delicate lines of her collarbone and the pearl and gold necklace accentuating the elegant curve of her décolletage, the most striking feature of her dress.

“She is,” Shen Shu replied.

Popular.

Actually, Shen Shu and Cai Ying, standing beside Xu Jinnan, were also attracting attention.

Everyone knew Shen Shu was Xu Jinnan’s wife, the one she had pursued so relentlessly.

And Cai Ying, who rarely attended such events, wasn’t widely recognized.

Xu Jinnan introduced Cai Ying, and the people she was talking to, surprised, realized she was the Cai family heiress. They had heard about the mixed-race daughter of the Cai family CEO, but they hadn’t expected her to be so beautiful.

Cai Ying mumbled a few polite responses, then looked away, bored. She disliked these social gatherings; they were too superficial, everyone putting on a facade of politeness and propriety, their true thoughts and intentions hidden.

She hated pretense.

It was too complicated.

She linked arms with Shen Shu, scanning the room, a strange unease settling over her. Just as she was about to suggest they find a quieter spot, her eyes widened, as if she had just seen something incredibly shocking.

A familiar figure, a woman with alluring fox-like eyes, her arm linked with another woman in a white dress, emerged from a nearby doorway.

Perhaps drawn by the commotion, or having heard something, the woman’s gaze suddenly shifted towards Cai Ying—

Across the room, through the crowd, their eyes met, and Cai Ying saw a flicker of surprise in Han Ling’s eyes, her own breath catching in her throat.

She blinked slowly, her heart pounding.

She hadn’t been mistaken. It was Han Ling.

Just then, Chen Bo’s voice came from behind her.

“Miss Cai, do you know Miss Han?”

Cai Ying, her gaze still fixed on Han Wenling, her voice slightly dazed, asked, “Miss Han?”

“Han Wenling,” Chen Bo clarified, his tone suggestive. Han Wenling, with her beauty and charisma, was the type to attract younger women, similar to Xu Jinnan.

Shen Shu felt Cai Ying’s hand tighten around her arm, the grip almost painful, and she instinctively tensed, sensing something was wrong.

“Cai Ying?”

Cai Ying, snapping out of her trance, turned to Chen Bo. “What did you say her name was?”

Chen Bo, puzzled, repeated the name.

Han Wenling.

Cai Ying’s voice rose slightly, drawing Xu Jinnan’s attention, who saw her hurrying towards the other woman, her pace so quick she almost bumped into a waiter.

It all happened so fast.

Shen Shu followed Cai Ying, exchanging a brief look with Xu Jinnan as they went, both of them realizing, with a sudden jolt of understanding, what this meant.

Han Wenling…

Within seconds, Cai Ying reached Han Wenling.

Her hurried approach made her stumble slightly, and Han Wenling instinctively reached out to steady her, then withdrew her hand as Cai Ying regained her balance.

Cai Ying looked up at Han Wenling, her voice trembling slightly, her eyes searching.

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

Her tone was calm, but her voice betrayed her, like a branch trembling in the wind.

Han Wenling’s hand returned to her side, her fingers fidgeting slightly.

She felt a strange mix of emotions, something she had never experienced before. Using a fake identity had been a whim, a spur-of-the-moment decision, but after meeting Cai Ying a few times, she had found her intriguing, her innocent cheerfulness a welcome distraction from the complexities of her own world.

Even without any physical intimacy, she had enjoyed spending time with Cai Ying.

If there was one thing she regretted, it was Cai Ying’s apparent lack of interest in material possessions.

She had offered her a black card, her car keys, but Cai Ying had been more delighted with the bracelet, a relatively inexpensive gift.

She had occasionally considered the possibility of Cai Ying discovering the truth about her identity, but she hadn’t dwelled on it. Besides power and profit, she rarely cared about anything deeply.

She had even rationalized it, thinking, So what if she finds out? We’ll just break up. It’s not like I’m desperate.

But now, looking at Cai Ying’s reddened, tear-filled eyes, she felt a pang of guilt, a strange nervousness she had never experienced with another woman.

“Ling Ling, who is this?” the woman beside her asked, leaning in close.

Han Wenling frowned, not at the question itself, but at the way Cai Ying’s eyes darkened at the woman’s words.

“Ying Ying,” Shen Shu said, arriving just then and standing beside Cai Ying. It was clear now.

Han Wenling was Han Ling.

Cai Ying’s tutor.

Xu Jinnan joined them, her expression grim. “She’s asking who you are,” she heard Cai Ying say, her voice choked with emotion.

Cai Ying didn’t look at the woman beside Han Wenling, her gaze fixed on Han Ling, waiting for an answer.

Han Wenling looked at Cai Ying, her eyes flickering towards Xu Jinnan and Shen Shu, then around the room, aware of the curious stares.

What could she say? Explain herself?

Tell Cai Ying about her agreement with the He family heiress, the fake engagement meant to benefit both their families?

For a moment, looking at Cai Ying’s heartbroken expression, she almost did. Then, she decided against it. It seemed pointless.

It was her own fault.

She had never imagined Cai Ying would be connected to Xu Jinnan. She usually investigated anyone she got involved with, but with Cai Ying, she hadn’t bothered. She had seemed so innocent, so pure.

After a brief hesitation, she said, “I’m her fiancée.”

Cai Ying heard the words, not from Han Ling, but from a stranger.

Tears streamed down her face, her lips trembling, and Shen Shu, her heart aching, reached for her hand, but Cai Ying pulled away, taking a step closer to Han Wenling.

“Really?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

She always avoided trouble, and anyone connected to Xu Jinnan and Shen Shu was trouble.

Or so she thought.

She didn’t notice the conflicting emotions stirring within her, the hesitation that belied her usual decisiveness.

And she didn’t realize the weight of that single word, the way it would change the course of her life.

“Yes,” Han Wenling replied.

Slap!

Cai Ying slapped her.

Chapter 73 p2

It was almost midnight.

The living room lights were brighter than the bedroom lights.

The sofa was wide and comfortable, big enough for two people to lie down on, and Xu Jinnan often worked there.

After working on her laptop for a while, her mouth feeling dry, she looked towards the coffee table.

She opened the cupboard and saw a stash of her favorite snacks – dried mangoes, freshly baked bread, and a small bag of assorted fruit candies.

The kind Little Crescent Moon had given her.

She took a mint candy, the flavor sweet and refreshing, not too strong.

Just as she popped it into her mouth, Shen Shu’s bedroom door opened.

Shen Shu glanced at her, her eyes lingering on the candy in Xu Jinnan’s hand. “Are you hungry?”

“Just needed something to… freshen my breath,” Xu Jinnan replied, gesturing towards the bedroom. “Is Cai Ying asleep?”

“Yes,” Shen Shu said.

Cai Ying wasn’t one to stay up late; she usually fell asleep after chatting for a while.

Shen Shu went to the bathroom, and when she returned, Xu Jinnan called out to her.

She walked over to the sofa, noticing the new cushions, a pale green with white lace trim, a refreshing change.

Xu Jinnan had bought them.

She had been planning to tell Shen Shu about it later, since Cai Ying was staying over, but seeing her now, she decided not to wait.

“I haven’t shown you what Chen Yue brought back,” Xu Jinnan said, taking Shen Shu’s hand and pulling her down onto the sofa beside her.

She opened the photos on her phone, her expression serious, a hint of nervousness in her eyes that Shen Shu rarely saw.

Shen Shu took the phone, puzzled.

At first, she didn’t understand, but then, seeing Lu Yun’s information, her blood ran cold.

Lu Yun, 95% compatibility.

(Note: Close relative within three generations of the Xu family.)

Xu Jinnan had told her bits and pieces about the Xu family – the locked box, the abuse, the mysterious powder, the town of Qucheng – none of it trivial.

But nothing had prepared her for this.

Close relative.

The implications for Xu Jinnan were devastating.

Shen Shu’s grip on the phone tightened, her fingers turning white.

She forced herself to scroll to the next photo, her vision blurring.

A tear splashed onto the screen.

Xu Jinnan’s heart lurched, and she reached out to cup Shen Shu’s face in her hands, her thumbs gently wiping away her tears. “Don’t cry,” she whispered, her voice filled with concern.

Shen Shu’s eyes met hers, tears streaming down her face, unable to speak.

She pulled Xu Jinnan’s hands away and buried her face in her shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

Xu Jinnan was speechless, her mind reeling, having never seen Shen Shu cry like this.

“Don’t cry, Shu Shu,” she murmured, her voice soft and soothing. It was breaking her heart.

“Xu Jinnan,” Shen Shu whispered, her voice thick with tears, then didn’t say anything more.

She had never realized the burden Xu Jinnan carried.

Was that why she had been so worried about involving Shen Shu, afraid of being a burden? Perhaps her earlier coldness had been partly due to that fear.

Shen Shu rarely cried, and she hadn’t cried like this in years, not even after the attack in the parking garage.

But now, thinking about everything Xu Jinnan had endured, her tragic past, her heart felt like a shattered glass bottle.

Why was life so unfair? Why did she have to suffer so much?

Xu Jinnan held her close, gently patting her back, their voices low, afraid of waking Cai Ying.

I should have gone to the bedroom, she thought, regretting her earlier hesitation.

Shen Shu’s tears made her question whether she should tell her about her own fears and anxieties. After a moment of thought, she decided she had to.

“Shu Shu, I might have other problems in the future, physical, mental…” she began, but Shen Shu’s arms, which had been around her neck, suddenly loosened.

Her beautiful face, now streaked with tears, her eyes red and swollen, her cheeks and nose flushed, looked like a ripe peach.

She stared at Xu Jinnan, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Xu Jinnan, trying to lighten the mood, said, “I haven’t even started crying yet, and you’re already a mess. Shouldn’t you be comforting me?”

“Xu Jinnan.”

“Yes?” Xu Jinnan’s voice was also slightly hoarse now, her smile fading.

“I’ll comfort you,” Shen Shu whispered, then leaned in and gently kissed the corner of Xu Jinnan’s lips.

She pulled away, but her forehead rested against Xu Jinnan’s, their breaths mingling, like tangled threads in a dye bath, creating a vibrant, chaotic mix of colors.

Xu Jinnan’s eyes darkened, and she returned the kiss, her movements both gentle and demanding.

Shifting slightly, she placed her knee on the sofa, lifting Shen Shu slightly, their bodies now closer.

Shen Shu’s arms wrapped around Xu Jinnan’s neck, her gaze, through her long eyelashes, meeting Xu Jinnan’s half-closed eyes, her mind blank.

Aware of Cai Ying’s presence in the next room, they kept their movements restrained, their breathing shallow, but their bodies still gravitated towards each other, sinking deeper into the sofa.

The close confines of the living room, the risk of being discovered, only intensified the intimacy of the moment.

Like two thieves stealing a forbidden pleasure.

As Shen Shu’s hand moved lower, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of Xu Jinnan’s neck, Xu Jinnan gently pushed her away, sitting up.

“Shu Shu,” she murmured, her voice husky, “Cai Ying is still here.”

Her breath was minty fresh.

A cool breeze drifted in from the balcony, dispelling the heat that had been building between them, though Shen Shu’s cheeks were still flushed. She placed her hands on Xu Jinnan’s shoulders. “Would it matter if she wasn’t?” she whispered, her own breath minty fresh.

Her voice was so low, so soft, that Xu Jinnan’s heart pounded, a wave of desire washing over her, almost overwhelming.

Screw the rut, she thought.

But then, a sliver of sanity returned.

She winced as Shen Shu’s fingers dug into her shoulders.

“Did you just pinch me?” she asked, a smile playing on her lips despite the slight pain.

Shen Shu didn’t reply, understanding now the reason for Xu Jinnan’s restraint, her fears and anxieties.

This was a difficult situation for anyone.

She thought, She needs time to adjust.

And she’ll realize I don’t care.

“Go wash your face and get some sleep,” Xu Jinnan said, her hand gently brushing Shen Shu’s eyelashes.

“Okay,” Shen Shu replied, then suddenly asked, “What did that girl at the restaurant look like?”

Xu Jinnan, caught off guard by the abrupt question, paused. “Oh, she had a ponytail, looked young, probably a college student.”

“A student? No wonder…”

“No wonder what?”

“You called her ‘little girl’.”

Xu Jinnan: “…” So that’s what this is about.

She chuckled, then, seeing Shen Shu’s expression, stopped. “Isn’t that what you call young people?”

Shen Shu ignored her, remembering the other photo. “What about the other one?”

Xu Jinnan opened the photo on her phone and explained her theory. “This could be a much bigger problem. I’m still investigating.” The children in the photo were around the same age as she and Shen Shu.

“X4 is the same age as you,” she added.

Not just the same age, but the same birthdate.

But they were all labeled with codes, making it difficult to identify them. She could only start with Lu Yun’s information.

And she had to be careful, especially with Shen Shu involved.

Shen Shu zoomed in on the photo, her gaze lingering on the codes.

X1, X2, X3… X4.

As she stared at X4’s information, the birthdate 1121, a sudden ringing filled her ears, as if something was trying to break through from the depths of her memory.

She felt a wave of nausea.

Xu Jinnan, noticing her reaction, asked, “What’s wrong?”

Shen Shu frowned, taking a deep breath. “Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “Seeing the same birthdate… it just made me feel a little uneasy.”

Xu Jinnan took the phone, remembering her own reaction to seeing the date, the instinctive aversion.

She didn’t want this to be connected to Shen Shu in any way.

It was past 1 a.m.

They slept in the guest room that night.

—

The next morning, Cai Ying, not seeing Shen Shu in her bed, was indignant, accusing Xu Jinnan of kidnapping her in the middle of the night and demanding a luxurious lunch as compensation.

Of course, it was just an act.

She enthusiastically recounted the details of sharing a bed with Shen Shu in the group chat.

–

On their way to the Chen family banquet that evening, Cai Ying and Tong Jia were chatting in the group chat.

Cai Ying: [@Tong Jia My married bestie, a bird flown from the nest, sweet nothings before bed, an empty bed upon waking. Sigh]

Tong Jia: [@Cai Ying You should have come with me. Now you’re just a third wheel.]

Cai Ying: […Woof.]

Tong Jia: [Hahaha, Little Cai, you’re so cute! I claim you as my little sister!]

Cai Ying: [This little sister has a girlfriend. Thanks, but no thanks.]

Tong Jia: […Oh.]

Tong Jia: [As the group admin, please take a look at the group name. Thank you.]

Cai Ying immediately changed the group name to “PDA Allowed.”

Tong Jia: […]

Xu Jinnan, amused, sent a message: [@Cai Ying We’re almost there.]

Cai Ying: [I’m already here, waiting for you.]

Cai Ying: [Hurry up! I’m lonely without Jia Jia!]

Tong Jia: [I’m having dinner with a director. Can’t miss this opportunity. Just cling to Shu Shu and let CEO Xu trail behind you. It’ll be hilarious!]

Cai Ying: [Good idea!]

Xu Jinnan turned to Shen Shu, chuckling. “Those two are a riot.”

Seeing Shen Shu turn off her phone, she asked, “Are your eyes bothering you?”

“Yes, they’re a little sore,” Shen Shu replied.

She had been staying up late, and after crying last night, her eyes had been puffy this morning. Her scenes had been rescheduled for the afternoon, fortunately, and the director hadn’t complained.

“Take a nap,” Xu Jinnan said.

Shen Shu leaned against Xu Jinnan’s shoulder, closing her eyes.

Xu Jinnan glanced at her, then checked her phone, opening Chen Bo’s “Fishing Nightclub” group chat.

Several messages were tagged with her name.

Chen Bo: [@Xu Jinnan Nan-jie, when are you arriving?]

Han Fu: [@Xu Jinnan Ahhh, my Nannan, haven’t seen you in ages! Miss you!]

The other messages were similar, all from about an hour ago.

She hadn’t replied. Chen Bo had already called, saying he would meet them at the entrance.

Just as she was about to close the chat, she saw a new message from Chen Bo.

[@Han Wenfang Holy shit, is your sister finally engaged to the He heiress? She even brought her here?]

[Photo]

Xu Jinnan didn’t open the photo, recognizing Han Wenling and a woman in a white dress standing beside her, their arms linked.

Han Wenfang: [Who knows?]

Xu Jinnan didn’t think much of it. Strategic marriages were common in their circles.

—

Five minutes later, they arrived at the five-star hotel, owned by the Chen family.

Its opulent exterior, gleaming with gold and marble, was even more extravagant than most five-star hotels.

As soon as they got out of the car, Shen Shu received a message from Cai Ying, asking if they had arrived.

Shen Shu: [We’re here.]

Cai Ying’s spirits lifted, seeing Shen Shu’s message. She didn’t usually enjoy these social gatherings, but she had been looking forward to spending time with Shen Shu.

However, it was proving to be less entertaining than she had hoped. She would rather be at home on her computer, or at the beach, or even at a quiet bar.

She was wearing a lilac dress that accentuated her slender ankles and silver heels, her mixed-race features giving her the air of a princess from a fairytale.

She attracted quite a few admiring glances.

After politely declining several invitations, she walked towards the entrance, looking for Shen Shu and Xu Jinnan.

Then, her gaze stopped on a familiar figure in the distance.

Chapter 73 p1

Cai Ying’s face fell, her earlier excitement replaced by disappointment, as she didn’t receive the answer she had hoped for.

“You don’t understand the pain of unfulfilled expectations,” she said, putting on a mock-fierce expression, seeing the amusement in Xu Jinnan’s eyes.

“I wasn’t laughing at you,” Xu Jinnan said. “If not this time, then next time. There’s no rush.”

“Exactly, there’s no rush,” Tong Jia agreed, nodding. “If you really don’t want to go alone, I’ll go with you tomorrow, sis.” Her pause was deliberate, the suggestive undertone obvious.

She was only being this restrained because of Cai Ying’s presence.

If Xu Jinnan had been alone, her innuendos would have been far more explicit.

Cai Ying, still uncorrupted by Tong Jia’s influence, focused only on the latter part of her sentence, throwing her arms around Tong Jia in a grateful hug.

They patted each other on the back, exchanging sisterly affections, then, caught up in the moment, clinked their beer cans together.

—

The dinner, which had already lasted over an hour, showed no signs of ending.

Tong Jia and Cai Ying, both with high alcohol tolerances and a shared love of drinking, were deep in conversation, their chatter increasing with each sip.

Shen Shu stood up and went to the bedroom.

Xu Jinnan glanced at them, then followed her.

The bedroom lights were off, only a faint light coming from the balcony, the streetlights outside casting a warm glow, the windows of the buildings across the street twinkling like distant stars.

The occasional sounds of traffic, conversations, and the rustling of leaves drifted in, creating a peaceful, almost intimate atmosphere.

Xu Jinnan stood at the doorway, watching as Shen Shu took a few garments from the drying rack, then joined her, picking up Shen Shu’s strawberry-print pajamas, the soft fabric inviting.

Shen Shu, without a word, walked past her, carrying the other clothes, but Xu Jinnan caught her wrist, pulling her back gently.

“Shu Shu.”

Xu Jinnan leaned down slightly, about to ask if she was okay, when Shen Shu pushed her away. “What?” she asked, her tone playful despite the slight annoyance in her voice.

If it weren’t for the softening lilt at the end, Xu Jinnan would have thought she was genuinely angry.

The sound sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

She released Shen Shu’s wrist, letting her go, Shen Shu taking the pajamas with her.

Xu Jinnan watched her go, a faint smile playing on her lips.

They could talk later, after Cai Ying and Tong Jia left.

Cai Ying had said she was going home tonight.

But words were cheap.

—

Cai Ying, wiping away tears brought on by a yawn, bid Tong Jia a dramatic farewell. “My dearest Jia Jia, goodbye! Be careful! Don’t talk to strangers! And let me know when you get home!”

Tong Jia: “My dearest Little Cai, goodbye! I never thought you would become a third wheel! Don’t barge into married couples’ bedrooms! I’ll definitely let you know when I get home!”

Xu Jinnan: “…Just go together.”

Tong Jia turned back to Cai Ying, a playful glint in her eyes. “See? She’s kicking you out, Little Cai.”

“Alright, enough with the theatrics,” Xu Jinnan said, following them to the door. “Viola is still nearby. She can drive you home.”

After seeing them off at the elevator, Xu Jinnan returned to the apartment to find Cai Ying draped over Shen Shu on the sofa. “Shu Shu’s lap is so much more comfortable,” she murmured.

Xu Jinnan stared at them: “…”

For the first time, she considered physically removing Cai Ying from the premises.

But it was just a fleeting thought.

Tonight, Cai Ying’s words, though occasionally excessive, didn’t seem malicious; she simply needed someone to talk to.

That was why Shen Shu had let her stay.

Having known each other for so long, Shen Shu knew when Cai Ying needed her.

Xu Jinnan messaged Viola, letting her know Tong Jia was downstairs.

She had originally intended to have Viola join them for dinner, then drive Tong Jia and Cai Ying home, but Viola had declined.

She hadn’t pressed the issue.

—

Outside, the cool night air was a welcome relief after the warmth of the apartment and the alcohol, clearing Tong Jia’s head slightly.

She saw a white car with its window down, waved, and walked over, leaning against the doorframe. “Hey, Viola, you’re working hard tonight,” she said.

Viola smiled. “It’s nothing. Get in, Miss Tong.”

Tong Jia got into the passenger seat, and as Viola started the car, she asked, “Miss Tong, you have a high tolerance for alcohol, don’t you?”

“Not bad. Definitely better than your CEO Xu,” Tong Jia replied without thinking.

Viola, a smile playing on her lips, didn’t reply, but she didn’t deny it either, her gaze fixed on the road ahead.

Tong Jia chuckled. “Sorry for talking about your boss behind her back. I get it, I get it. No need to explain. We all know what she’s like.”

Viola smiled. After a moment, she asked, “Want some water?”

Tong Jia shook her head. “I prefer alcohol. Secretary V, can you hold your liquor? I’ll have to show you sometime.”

“I’d like that,” Viola replied, her tone sincere.

Tong Jia glanced at her, observing her profile, her features sharp and elegant, her demeanor efficient and professional.

She seemed like a straightforward person, her actions direct and decisive.

Tong Jia’s gaze drifted downwards, lingering on her figure, her auburn hair a striking contrast against her dark suit, the white shirt beneath not too tight, her physique slender, typical of an Alpha.

Viola suddenly turned her head, and Tong Jia, blinking, looked up, pretending she hadn’t been staring.

“Miss Tong.”

“Yes?”

“You haven’t told me where you live.”

“Oh, I live at…”

After giving Viola her address, perhaps because of the alcohol, or perhaps just fatigue, she leaned against the window and closed her eyes, quickly drifting off to sleep.

Then… she woke up just as quickly.

She had been dreaming of Qiao Rui.

It was snowing, the soft flakes falling like white flowers, covering the ground in a blanket of pure white.

She had been sulking, having refused to eat all day after seeing Qiao Rui accept a gift from another woman.

She had ignored Qiao Rui’s calls and messages, even the ones relayed through mutual friends.

Then, that night, Qiao Rui had appeared outside her dorm, holding a bouquet of red roses, their vibrant color a stark contrast against the white snow, bright enough to melt even the coldest winter heart.

Then, the scene had shifted, and she had seen Qiao Rui in bed with another woman, smiling at her, the woman in her arms saying, “Tong Jia, you’ve been such a fool all these years.”

She had been enraged, about to lunge at them, when she woke up.

Her breathing ragged, she rolled down the window, the cool night air dispelling the lingering anger from her dream.

It was almost laughable.

She was still dreaming of Qiao Rui.

It wasn’t the first time; most of her dreams about Qiao Rui were filled with pain and anger, like the one she had just had.

Sometimes, she would dream of happier times, and those dreams were even more painful upon waking.

Betrayal wasn’t the worst part; it was the lingering shadow of that betrayal, the inability to erase the memories, that truly hurt.

Cai Ying had said it was like a malignant tumor, impossible to completely remove, the scar always remaining.

But you could distract yourself, and eventually, you would forget about it.

Tong Jia had asked how to distract herself.

Cai Ying, twirling the bracelet on her wrist, had said with a smile, “Find someone new.”

Tong Jia agreed, but despite her open-mindedness, her only romantic experience had been with Qiao Rui.

She had tried dating other people, but she always felt a sense of resistance, a lack of connection.

Sometimes, what you wanted wasn’t easy to find, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

Because you couldn’t control your feelings.

And hatred, after all, was also a form of attachment.

Lost in thought, her head resting against the car window, she heard Viola’s voice. “Miss Tong, do you like chocolate?”

She turned her head slowly. “Huh?”

Viola smiled, stopping at a red light, and took a piece of chocolate from her pocket, offering it to Tong Jia.

—

It was 9 p.m.

The night sky was dark and overcast, the forecast predicting more rain before dawn.

While Cai Ying was showering, Shen Shu brought the roses in from the balcony.

When Xu Jinnan entered the bedroom, Shen Shu was just returning from the balcony. She glanced at Xu Jinnan, then opened the wardrobe to get her pajamas.

Xu Jinnan stepped closer, her voice low. “You’re sharing the bed with Cai Ying tonight, right?”

Shen Shu glanced at her. “Yes,” she replied calmly. “That way, you can get some rest.” No need to wait for her to fall asleep before coming to bed.

Xu Jinnan: “…”

She had been deliberately maintaining a distance these past few days, but the implication that she had been intentionally staying up late was unfair. Shen Shu had been perfectly fine these past two days; the problem had been that phone call at lunchtime.

“I don’t know that woman who asked for my WeChat. I just met her randomly at the restaurant,” Xu Jinnan explained.

Shen Shu’s gaze cooled slightly.

“Teacher Xu is quite the charmer, attracting admirers wherever she goes,” she said dryly.

Xu Jinnan: “…”

She’s missing the point.

Just then, they heard Cai Ying emerge from the bathroom.

Shen Shu didn’t say anything more, taking her pajamas and turning to leave.

As she did, Xu Jinnan stepped in front of her, blocking the doorway with her foot.

The door swung closed slightly.

The dim light of the bedroom contrasted with the brighter light of the living room, spilling through the gap in the doorway.

Xu Jinnan stood in the shadows, Shen Shu in the light.

Xu Jinnan stepped closer, crossing the dividing line, and gently kissed Shen Shu’s lips.

“I’m not that charming,” she murmured.

Shen Shu froze for a moment, then, as she looked up, Xu Jinnan had already opened the door and left the room.

The lingering coolness of her lips was both familiar and unfamiliar.

Shen Shu touched her lips. They hadn’t been this close since that night.

Xu Jinnan had been holding back, her touch hesitant, as if she was worried about something.

And they had both been busy lately, Shen Shu with her increasingly demanding filming schedule, Xu Jinnan with the launch of the live streaming platform.

They rarely saw each other except late at night, Shen Shu often half-asleep when Xu Jinnan finally came to bed.

So, there hadn’t been many opportunities for intimacy.

That fleeting kiss, light as a butterfly’s wings, had stirred something within her, a ripple of desire spreading through her like a wave.

—

At 10:30 p.m., Shen Shu and Cai Ying lay in bed, chatting.

Cai Ying talked about Han Ling.

“She’s amazing! Like, she can do anything, knows everything, kind of like Xu Jinnan… She always knows what I’m thinking. And she’s so good to me, but sometimes, I can’t read her, don’t know what she’s thinking,” Cai Ying said, sighing. “And these past two times we met, she seemed upset, but she wouldn’t tell me why. It bothers me.”

Shen Shu turned on her side. “Do you like her?”

Cai Ying thought about it, then nodded. “I do.”

“I started seeing her to get over my ex, not just for fun, but to find someone new. And then I realized how amazing she is, how kind and… perfect,” she said, her voice softening as she talked about Han Ling. “And most importantly, she’s beautiful, especially her eyes. They’re mesmerizing.”

Shen Shu chuckled, amused by her sudden shift from melancholy to lovestruck teenager.

“Shu Shu.”

“Yes?”

“Teacher Han’s pheromones smell so good!”

“…”

Shen Shu opened her mouth to ask, but Cai Ying, anticipating the question, quickly added, “We haven’t done anything! Just… kissed a lot,” she said, her voice dropping slightly, a shy smile on her face.

“Well, just be careful,” Shen Shu said.

“I will!”

They chatted for a while longer.

“I’m so tired. Let’s go to sleep,” Cai Ying said, yawning and listening to the faint sounds from outside the bedroom. “What’s Xu Jinnan doing out there?”

—

 

Chapter 72 p2

—

A few days later, Xu Jinnan finally had time for her check-up.

Professor Qin’s expression was slightly strained as he greeted her, but he didn’t want to be disrespectful, simply saying, as he drew her blood, “Miss Xu, I’m responsible for your health, but you also have to take responsibility for yourself. Secondary differentiation is rare, and there are many unforeseen risks. Regular check-ups are essential. It’s difficult for me to do my job if you don’t take this seriously.”

Xu Jinnan nodded. “I apologize for the trouble, Professor Qin,” she said sincerely.

Professor Qin paused, unable to say anything more.

He couldn’t bring himself to be truly angry with her.

After the blood test, Xu Jinnan sat down to rest and check her messages.

A few minutes later, Professor Qin returned with her results, his brow furrowed.

“Miss Xu, your levels are so high, and you don’t feel anything unusual? Why did you wait so long to come in?” he asked, handing her the report. Her Alpha levels were significantly higher than before.

“I do feel… uncomfortable,” she admitted.

The tingling in her scent gland had become more frequent, sometimes even occurring when Shen Shu wasn’t around.

“Of course you feel uncomfortable. Your levels are very high. And with any additional stimuli, the risk of a rut is even higher,” he explained.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“I’ll prescribe some medication to lower your levels, and I’ll give you two more doses of AOH suppressants. Keep them with you at all times. You have to be very careful with your current levels…” He didn’t need to elaborate, and Xu Jinnan nodded.

She felt a sudden wave of sadness, a deep, inexplicable melancholy.

“Is there no way to permanently cure this… sensitivity?” she asked.

“So far, it seems to be self-resolving. It usually only occurs during the initial stages of secondary differentiation. The AOH suppressants can only alleviate the symptoms temporarily,” he explained, then, seeing her downcast expression, added gently, “It will get better, Miss Xu. Don’t worry.”

She asked about the medical records he had checked for her.

“I reviewed everything. Most of the tests were neurological and psychiatric, and there were no abnormalities. Miss Xu, your main concerns now are your high Alpha levels and the potential for a rut,” he said.

—

The morning sky had been clear and bright, but by noon, dark clouds had gathered, threatening rain.

While Professor Qin hadn’t found anything unusual in her medical records, the thought of being a product of incest still bothered her, a deep-seated unease.

Especially when she thought about Shen Shu.

She paused, then started the car.

The sensitivity issue was related to her Alpha identity… and after the incident with the stalker, she had decided to tell Shen Shu the truth about her past.

—

The opportunity came three days later.

Shen Shu had been filming night scenes for the past two days, working until late.

They hadn’t had dinner together at home in days, and with her late nights, they hadn’t even been sleeping together. One day, they hadn’t even seen each other, only exchanging a brief glance in the morning when Xu Jinnan left for work.

They hadn’t even had lunch together.

On her way to the office, Xu Jinnan stopped at a casual restaurant chain and messaged Shen Shu, asking what she was having for lunch.

Just as she sat down with her food, she received a reply.

Shen Shu: [The one you ordered.]

A photo followed.

It was the healthy meal Xu Jinnan had ordered for her, the photo taken with the container on Shen Shu’s lap, a few inches of black stocking visible beneath it.

Xu Jinnan also took a photo of her own meal – a simple lunch of meat and vegetables, and a bowl of pork rib soup.

She sent a voice message. “My lunch is better than yours,” she said playfully.

She put down her phone, picked up her chopsticks, and took a few bites of her food, when a young woman with a ponytail sat down opposite her.

Xu Jinnan didn’t pay attention, continuing to eat and check her phone. Shen Shu hadn’t replied to her voice message, so she sent another one.

A few seconds later, the call connected. Just as she was about to put the phone to her ear, a soft voice said, “Excuse me, can I add you on WeChat?”

Xu Jinnan paused. “Sorry, I’m married,” she replied.

The woman blushed, nodding and picking up her tray. “Oh, okay. Sorry to bother you,” she mumbled, hurrying away.

Xu Jinnan put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

Silence. She looked at the screen; the call had ended.

Xu Jinnan: “…”

She touched her nose and sent Shen Shu a message: [Why did you hang up?]

After waiting for fifteen minutes with no reply, she took a sip of her soup, finding it a little too salty, then put it aside and typed another message: [What time are you done tonight? Weren’t you having dinner with Tong Jia and Cai Ying?]

Shen Shu, after about thirty seconds, replied with a single digit: [6]

Xu Jinnan: “…”

Seeing the stark contrast to her earlier silence, she understood, a sweet yet slightly sour feeling, like a ripe grape, spreading through her.

—

That evening, Xu Jinnan went straight home from the North District, arriving at 8 p.m., too late to cook.

But Shen Shu, Tong Jia, and Cai Ying hadn’t started eating yet, waiting for her.

Tong Jia had cooked. She had been feeling guilty since the parking garage incident and had been taking care of everything for Shen Shu, sometimes even more attentively than Xu Jinnan.

Tonight’s dinner was also Shen Shu’s idea, wanting to distract Tong Jia and spend some time with her.

Tong Jia’s reasoning was simple. The recent incident had highlighted her shortcomings as an agent. While she was familiar with the industry, this was her first time managing an artist, and her close relationship with Shen Shu and Xu Jinnan sometimes made her forget that Shen Shu was a rising star, someone who needed a professional agent.

She had to be more… professional.

She understood Shen Shu’s intentions and was touched, quickly finishing two glasses of wine as soon as they sat down.

Cai Ying, ever the supportive friend, cheered her on, and the atmosphere quickly became lively.

In contrast, Xu Jinnan and Shen Shu were much quieter.

Xu Jinnan leaned closer to Shen Shu. “That woman from earlier, I met her at lunch,” she whispered.

“CEO Xu is a busy woman. She didn’t want to be disturbed,” Shen Shu retorted.

“I told her I was married,” Xu Jinnan said.

“Really?” Shen Shu asked, her voice laced with skepticism. “You don’t seem like the marrying type. More like the commitment-phobic type.”

Xu Jinnan: “…?”

Shen Shu took a sip of water, watching Tong Jia and Cai Ying’s animated conversation, then turned back to Xu Jinnan. “And you always wait for me to fall asleep before coming to bed. Afraid I’ll devour you?”

Xu Jinnan: “…”

She could hear the subtle resentment in Shen Shu’s voice.

Fortunately, Cai Ying changed the subject, saving Xu Jinnan from having to respond.

“Shu Shu, Xu Jinnan is going to that banquet tomorrow. Are you going too?”

Shen Shu picked up a shrimp with her chopsticks. “Why would I have to go just because she’s going?”

Cai Ying immediately looked at Xu Jinnan, a questioning look in her eyes – What’s going on between you two?

Xu Jinnan, unable to answer, peeled a shrimp and placed it in Shen Shu’s bowl.

“Little Cai, are you going?” Tong Jia asked.

Cai Ying looked at Shen Shu and Xu Jinnan. “I’ll go if Shu Shu goes. I don’t have any classes. It’ll be fun. Jia Jia, you should come too! Those two will be together, and I’ll be all alone…”

“I think I’ll pass. I prefer having a hot Alpha by my side,” Tong Jia said, glancing at Xu Jinnan and Shen Shu, then added, “And if I go with you, wouldn’t we both be alone?”

Cai Ying: “…”

Xu Jinnan chuckled, then, looking at Shen Shu, who was eating quietly, asked Cai Ying, “What about your Teacher Han?”

“I haven’t asked her,” Cai Ying replied.

“Why not?” Tong Jia asked, surprised.

Cai Ying tapped her chin thoughtfully. “You haven’t met her yet. Wouldn’t it be awkward to bring her to a banquet?”

Tong Jia disagreed. “How do you know she wouldn’t want to go if you don’t ask?”

Cai Ying considered it. She had a point.

She glanced at the diamond bracelet on her wrist, a gift from Han Ling after Cai Ying had bought her a pair of earrings when she was feeling down.

The pink diamonds sparkled in the light, like a miniature galaxy.

She loved it.

She smiled and opened her chat with Han Ling, which was pinned at the top of her list.

[Teacher Han, are you busy tomorrow night?]

Han Ling replied just as they were finishing dinner.

Teacher Han: [I have a banquet to attend tomorrow night.]

Chapter 72 p1

Shen Shu lay on the bed, her pale fingers just barely visible beneath the collar of her pajama top, the glimpse of her collarbone tantalizing.

Xu Jinnan sighed inwardly. Shen Shu had a way of rendering her completely helpless.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and opened the tube of ointment, when Shen Shu’s phone vibrated on the nightstand.

She paused, picking up the phone and handing it to Shen Shu.

It was a call from an unknown number.

Shen Shu glanced at the caller ID, then answered. She didn’t give out her number often.

She waited for the caller to speak.

“Hello?”

Hearing the voice, she instinctively looked at Xu Jinnan, who was examining the ointment, as if studying the ingredients.

Sensing her gaze, Xu Jinnan looked up.

“Ah Shu?” a hesitant voice asked. It was Xia Chun.

The rain had stopped, but the balcony windows were still closed, the apartment quiet, amplifying the sound of Xia Chun’s voice through the phone’s speaker.

“Is something the matter?” Shen Shu asked.

“Your voice… are you okay? I’ve been meaning to call… are you badly hurt? Can I… come visit you?”

Xu Jinnan calmly looked down, continuing to read the instructions on the ointment tube, as if she hadn’t heard.

Shen Shu also looked away, releasing her grip on her collar. “No, thank you,” she replied.

“I’m sorry,” Xia Chun said.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I saw it happen. If I had been more alert, if I had checked on you, you wouldn’t have gone through that. I’m so stupid! I was so close!” A slight slurring in Xia Chun’s voice betrayed her distress. “Xia Chun…” Shen Shu began, her voice softening.

Just then, Xu Jinnan leaned closer, her cool fingers applying the ointment to the bruises on Shen Shu’s neck, the contrast in temperature making Shen Shu’s breath hitch.

Xu Jinnan didn’t speak, her gaze fixed on the marks on Shen Shu’s neck.

She examined them closely. The mark Cai Ying had mentioned, while resembling a love bite, wasn’t one she had made.

Xia Chun’s voice continued, seemingly oblivious to Shen Shu’s silence. “I’m always one step too late. When we broke up, I almost managed to change your mind. When you were attacked, I was almost there. When Xu Jinnan forced you into that marriage, I was almost there… and now…”

Shen Shu gasped softly, the ointment on her skin surprisingly sensitive, Xu Jinnan’s touch sending shivers down her spine.

Xu Jinnan’s finger gently traced the outline of Shen Shu’s collarbone, her touch cool and smooth against Shen Shu’s warm skin.

“Ah Shu?” Xia Chun asked, her voice sharp, finally sensing something amiss.

Shen Shu looked at Xu Jinnan, her heart pounding, unable to reply.

Their faces were inches apart, and she could see the subtle softness in Xu Jinnan’s eyes, despite her usual aloof demeanor.

She felt Xu Jinnan’s finger gently tug at her collar, her breath catching in her throat.

She mumbled a quick reply, then hung up, her gaze fixed on Xu Jinnan.

After a moment, Xu Jinnan, finished applying the ointment, looked up, a smile playing on her lips. “Why are you staring at me?”

“Teacher Xu, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Shen Shu asked, her voice soft.

“Did what on purpose? You asked me to apply the ointment,” Xu Jinnan replied innocently.

The ointment had a slightly greasy texture.

Xu Jinnan straightened up, wiping her hands with a tissue.

Shen Shu watched her for a moment, then looked away, a faint smile playing on her lips, her earlier drowsiness forgotten. She didn’t bother arguing.

“Let me see your elbow and knee,” she said.

Xu Jinnan, remembering the other injuries, had Shen Shu pull up her sleeve and pant leg, revealing more bruises.

After applying the ointment, Xu Jinnan placed the tube beside Shen Shu. “Shu Shu, you can do the rest yourself,” she murmured.

Shen Shu paused, understanding.

Her earlobes flushed slightly. “There’s no need,” she said softly. The bruises had been more noticeable when she woke up, but they had faded slightly, except for one, a little darker than the others.

She paused, then, before Xu Jinnan could reply, unbuttoned another button on her pajama top, pulling it down slightly to reveal the “X” tattoo on her collarbone, a small, dark red mark beside it, about the size of her pinky fingernail.

“Just here. The others are fine.”

Xu Jinnan: “…”

She stared at the tattoo, her fingers twitching. She squeezed some ointment onto her fingertip, then, as if casually asking, said, “Does that tattoo have any special meaning? It’s the same as your WeChat profile picture.”

“Teacher Xu.”

Xu Jinnan looked up.

Shen Shu didn’t answer her question, instead saying, “You’ve been wanting to ask about that for a while, haven’t you?”

Xu Jinnan: “…”

She had been curious ever since learning about Shen Shu and Xia Chun’s past relationship, but she hadn’t found the right opportunity to ask.

“Not really. I just… remembered to ask,” she said.

Shen Shu looked at her for a moment. “Really?”

Xu Jinnan, unable to meet her gaze, admitted, “It’s not Xia Chun’s initial, is it?”

Shen Shu paused, then chuckled softly. “Is that why you kept… biting it?”

Xu Jinnan: “…”

She didn’t reply, not wanting to revisit the memories of last night.

Shen Shu, her cheek resting on her bent arm, said, “It has nothing to do with Xia Chun.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m not telling you.”

Xu Jinnan: “…”

Shen Shu, clearly enjoying her curiosity, her mood having lifted considerably, seemed determined to keep it a secret.

Xu Jinnan sighed inwardly. She couldn’t exactly force her to tell her.

If it wasn’t Xia Chun’s initial, then what did it mean?

Shen Shu didn’t take the herbal supplements, and Xu Jinnan didn’t press her, simply putting them away. “Alright, aren’t you tired? Go to sleep,” she said.

Shen Shu, seeing her stand up, asked, “What about you?”

“I still have some work to do. The company is waiting for my reply.”

“Oh.”

Xu Jinnan paused at the doorway, looking back. “I’ll be in later,” she said.

After a brief pause, and hearing Shen Shu’s “Okay,” she left the room.

—

The rain continued throughout the night, finally stopping just before dawn.

Xu Jinnan opened her eyes, squinting against the faint light filtering through the curtains.

She rubbed her eyes and heard Shen Shu shift beside her.

She turned slightly to see Shen Shu, facing her, fast asleep, her hand, warm and soft, resting on Xu Jinnan’s arm as she turned over.

The faint scent of medication mingled with Shen Shu’s sweet pheromones, the two distinct yet somehow harmonious in Xu Jinnan’s heightened senses.

Sometimes, all she could smell was that sweet fragrance.

A sudden tingling sensation in her scent gland made her heart skip a beat.

But it quickly subsided.

Afraid of losing control, she had been deliberately maintaining a distance from Shen Shu since the night before last.

She had been relieved when Shen Shu had already been asleep when she came to bed last night. Sleeping in separate beds had made it easier to control her impulses, but sharing a bed was different.

Not only was her body still affected by the original Xu Jinnan’s… quirks, but Shen Shu’s attitude had also changed, her occasional displays of affection both surprising and unsettling.

She carefully moved her arm, preparing to get out of bed, when a soft moan came from beside her.

“What time is it?” Shen Shu murmured, her voice still hoarse, but less so than yesterday.

“It’s only 7 a.m. Go back to sleep,” Xu Jinnan replied. “I have to go to the Special Ward today.”

Shen Shu’s eyes fluttered open. “Because of the… incident?”

Xu Jinnan shook her head. “No, remember my brother’s friend, Li Lan? She’s in North City now, and she’s taken over the case. I just have to go through the formalities,” she explained, then got up and started getting ready, putting some porridge on the stove before leaving.

She had a busy day ahead of her.

—

After a morning meeting, which ended around 10 a.m., she went to the North City Special Ward.

It was similar to a regular police station, but specifically for ABO-related matters, its jurisdiction more focused.

Li Lan took her directly to her office and briefly explained the situation.

While she was the director, she still had to follow protocol; she wasn’t one to bend the rules.

Xu Jinnan understood.

“A week, ten days at most. I’ll have an answer for you,” Li Lan said.

Xu Jinnan, taking a sip of the cappuccino Li Lan had ordered for her, smiled faintly. “You’re that confident?”

“This woman seems tough. She’s not giving us anything useful. We need to change our approach,” Li Lan explained.

Xu Jinnan didn’t ask for details, simply saying, “Then I’ll leave it to you.”

Li Lan’s words reminded her of something.

They had never found out who had supplied the drug to Yin Xue.

“If you handled that case, do you think you could get anything out of Yin Xue?” she asked.

Li Lan leaned back in her chair. “I interrogated her.”

Xu Jinnan was surprised. She had known Li Lan had helped with the aftermath, but not that she had personally interrogated Yin Xue.

“Yin Xue is different from this woman. She’s incredibly resilient. Even after two weeks in solitary, on the verge of a mental breakdown, she didn’t say a word. Meaning whatever she’s hiding is more important than her own well-being. Without more evidence, I can’t keep interrogating her.”

That was why they hadn’t been able to get anything out of Yin Xue.

But this woman, the one who attacked Shen Shu, wasn’t as strong.

Xu Jinnan’s thoughts paused.

“Speaking of Yin Xue, she was acting crazy for a while, causing trouble every day, but lately, she’s been behaving, even actively participating in rehabilitation programs,” Li Lan said.

“She wants to get out?”

“She’s not getting out,” Li Lan said firmly, standing up. “Didn’t your brother tell you that?”

He had.

Xu Yincheng had said Yin Xue would never be released.

—

Xu Jinnan sat in her car outside the Special Ward for a while, lost in thought.

She had a feeling that the person behind Yin Xue and the person behind the attack on Shen Shu were the same.

She hadn’t been able to go to the hospital that day, having received an urgent call from the company on her way there.

She had been putting it off, and now, with work piling up, she hadn’t had time.

—

Shen Shu had returned to filming.

Despite the three-day delay, no one on set held it against her. Xu Jinnan had been providing catered meals and afternoon tea for the entire crew, and had even given all the women, both Alphas and Omegas, gifts from Meilai Jewelry.

Someone had even posted about it on Weibo, praising Xu Jinnan as the “perfect wife.”

The post had gone viral, and the hashtag #CEO Wife had trended.

By the time Xu Jinnan heard about it, her and Shen Shu’s names had been trending for three days – after the attack on Shen Shu, someone had promoted their CP super topic, and it had quickly climbed the ranks, reaching the top spot.

Then, someone had dug up more information about their relationship.

This time, a more thorough profile of Xu Jinnan had emerged.

Third daughter of the Xu family. (Need I say more? There’s only one Xu family in North City.)

Notorious playboy, known for her wild ways. (Everyone in the upper echelons of the wealthy socialite circle knows this.)

Used underhanded tactics to marry the stunningly beautiful Shen Shu. (A classic case of forced marriage turning into love. Basically, a reformed scumbag Alpha falling for her wife. I’m not a CP fan, but CEO Xu is definitely cool.)

Started investing a year ago, and her assets are already among the top ten in North City. (What does that mean? It means while your mom gives you a dollar and you think about what kind of candy to buy, she takes a dollar and thinks about how to buy a factory, and succeeds.)

Her most successful ventures so far are Meilai Jewelry (which she saved from bankruptcy, and which is now an international brand) and the “Show” live streaming app (which she personally designed – yes, you read that right, personally designed – and which is revolutionizing the short video industry with its innovative design).

And for those in the financial world, you’ve probably heard about the Song family’s downfall. A friend of mine, a financial manager, said if the Song family hadn’t apologized, their company would be bankrupt by now…

And you’ve probably noticed, there’s almost no information about her online, no photos unless she posts them herself.

Think about it, what kind of background grants you that kind of power? A simple business wouldn’t be enough.

In conclusion, powerful family, powerful CEO.

I know my account will probably be deleted soon, but I’m so jealous! This is a real-life rags-to-riches story!

Xu Jinnan read the post, which, while omitting some details, was relatively accurate, and she was pleased with the praise.

She liked the post using her “RichSisterWithStamina” account.

To her surprise, Shen Shu had also seen the post and liked it.

And because of Shen Shu’s like, their names trended again.

It also boosted the popularity of the “Show” app, its registered user count exceeding five hundred thousand in a single day, and still climbing.

Even celebrities and influencers were joining the platform.

With their names constantly trending, Shen Shu’s Weibo follower count also skyrocketed, many of them CP fans, and the “NanShu” super topic continued to grow.

From the parking garage incident to the #CEOWife hashtag, Shen Shu had been trending almost non-stop for a week.

It even spawned a new term – the Shen Shu Effect.

Anything associated with Shen Shu seemed to trend.

Of course, there were still plenty of haters.

Seriously? Someone with no work to her name is actually famous? What is this world coming to…

Isn’t she an actress? Where are her dramas???

Trending Queen. Ugh, barf.

Xu Jinnan didn’t think the negative comments were a bad thing. If she hadn’t seen Shen Shu’s acting herself, she might have doubted her talent, but she had witnessed it firsthand.

These comments would only fuel Shen Shu’s future success.

—

Chapter 71

Xu Jinnan had gone to bed late, but she woke up early, her mind strangely alert, despite the restless sleep.

The curtains in the guest room were a pale blue and gray, her favorite colors.

Unlike Shen Shu, who was a light sleeper, sensitive to light, yet always left a gap in the curtains, allowing a sliver of sunlight to stream into the room each morning, illuminating the floor, Xu Jinnan preferred complete darkness, drawing the curtains closed before going to sleep and opening them only after waking up.

Now, the faint light filtering through the curtains suggested a cloudy day.

Otherwise, the room would be brighter, allowing her to see more clearly, even just a silhouette.

Shen Shu lay on her side, her back to Xu Jinnan, her dark hair spread out on the pillow, some of it tucked beneath her shoulder, her posture relaxed.

Like the aftermath of their lovemaking last night.

Having changed into a camisole before going to sleep, her back, smooth and pale, was exposed, the bruises on her neck, like dark purple scars, a stark contrast against her skin.

The sight made Xu Jinnan’s heart ache, and she instinctively reached out, then stopped, afraid of waking Shen Shu.

She carefully slipped out of bed, put on her slippers, and walked around to Shen Shu’s side of the bed. Shen Shu’s eyes were still slightly puffy from crying last night.

The blanket was tucked under her arm. It was the pink set, the one Xu Jinnan had used for Cai Ying before.

Xu Jinnan’s gaze drifted upwards, lingering on the red marks on Shen Shu’s collarbone, similar to the ones on her pajamas last night.

Did I go too far? she wondered.

She wasn’t experienced with this, just like with the roses; it had all been trial and error.

Feeling a sudden warmth spreading through her, she looked away, glancing down at her own pajamas, then went to the closet and quickly grabbed a robe.

She went to the kitchen, filled the kettle, and started the rice cooker, planning to make beef and egg porridge.

After washing up, feeling more alert, she finally messaged Viola.

She had left everything to Viola after bringing Shen Shu home last night.

But things weren’t over yet; there were still too many unanswered questions.

“The access card is real, but the ID is fake, and it wasn’t recently registered,” Viola reported, confirming Xu Jinnan’s suspicions. “Like it was prepared in advance.”

All employees had access cards that could be used to enter the building.

These cards were issued by the property management team.

Meaning everyone in the building, including the film crew, had one. But security at Xu Jinnan’s building was tight, and every time a card was used, a record was sent to both the company’s system and the individual’s app.

If a card was lost or stolen, it could be deactivated immediately.

Viola had checked the building’s surveillance footage and found the access records, confirming the card wasn’t stolen.

It was a legitimate card.

And based on Viola’s investigation, yesterday hadn’t been the first time the woman had used it. Others had seen her, but she had cleverly avoided all the security cameras.

Meaning…

“Someone was helping her,” Xu Jinnan said.

“Yes, it will be difficult to trace the origin of the card. We have a large property management team, and our security has always focused on external threats, neglecting internal security,” Viola explained. “This person is likely one of our employees.”

After all, access was restricted.

“Yes,” Viola agreed.

“That woman isn’t mentally stable. She has a history of stalking Miss Shen near the university. Someone saw her and called the police. But she was released after a few days, her family claiming she was mentally ill…”

Xu Jinnan glanced towards the guest room, then went to the balcony. “So, they just let her go?”

“As far as I know, she was only detained for a month. I checked her records last night. After her mother passed away, her older sister and sister-in-law abandoned her. I heard she caused some trouble recently, and they told us to handle it as we see fit,” Viola replied.

“Mentally ill?” Xu Jinnan asked, frowning.

“The psychiatrist at the hospital said she might have some psychological issues, but not to the extent of being legally insane. She’s still aware of her actions. She even tried to trick a nurse into giving her a phone to call the police, and she tried to escape when no one was watching, but…”

Of course, she hadn’t succeeded.

Xu Jinnan had broken both her legs. Even struggling wouldn’t have helped.

“I see,” Xu Jinnan said.

Faking a mental illness was a common tactic.

In this ABO world, mental illness was often treated leniently by the law, regardless of the severity of the crime.

Many people exploited this loophole.

Having a prior record of mental instability, the woman had likely assumed she would be released if she acted crazy, knowing the police would be sympathetic.

It was this kind of manipulation that often led to prejudice against those with genuine mental health issues.

“CEO Xu, have you seen the news online? It’s already spreading. The police will likely get involved,” Viola said carefully, worried Xu Jinnan might do something reckless.

“I know,” Xu Jinnan replied.

While it was tempting, she wouldn’t do anything illegal, like unlawful detainment.

She needed to find out how the woman had obtained the access card, and who had helped her avoid the security cameras.

And there was one more thing… she picked up her phone, a thought nagging at her. Perhaps she was overthinking it, but the timing was too coincidental – she hadn’t been at the office yesterday afternoon.

Ever since Shen Shu had mentioned feeling like she was being followed, Xu Jinnan had been leaving work with her whenever possible.

Several names came to mind – the Xu family, even Zhou Pei.

She would have to find another way to get answers.

—

A soft creak came from the guest room door.

Xu Jinnan’s thoughts were interrupted, and she turned to see Shen Shu emerging, a pillow clutched to her chest, her dark hair framing her face, her chin resting on the pillow.

She looked delicate and vulnerable, yet also strangely innocent and endearing.

Like a small, aloof kitten seeking shelter from the spring rain, its fur slightly damp.

Their eyes met.

Shen Shu’s eyes, slightly puffy and red-rimmed, held a warmth that made Xu Jinnan’s heart skip a beat.

“Go change your clothes,” Xu Jinnan said, her voice soft.

Shen Shu didn’t move. “Aren’t you going to work?” she asked, her voice still hoarse from crying, even more so than last night.

Just like her legs, the soreness always worse on the second and third day.

“Taking a day off. Go change,” Xu Jinnan said, returning from the balcony. The sky outside was gray and overcast, threatening rain.

Seeing Shen Shu still standing there, she took off her robe and draped it over Shen Shu’s shoulders, then gently guided her towards the bedroom, mindful of her sore leg.

“It hurts more than yesterday,” Shen Shu murmured.

As they entered the bedroom, Xu Jinnan paused, looking down at her. “Did I go too far?” she asked softly.

“…A little,” Shen Shu admitted, then added, “But it’s fine.”

The sudden proximity, Xu Jinnan’s head still bowed, their breaths mingling, made Shen Shu’s heart race.

Xu Jinnan’s gaze lingered on her slightly parted lips for a moment. “Do you want me to get your clothes, or can you manage?”

Shen Shu walked slowly towards the wardrobe, then paused.

Xu Jinnan chuckled softly. “You’ve already seen everything anyway,” she said, a playful tease, turning to leave, then heard Shen Shu’s quiet reply, “That’s true,” and saw the pillow she had been holding fall to the bed, the covers rumpled.

Xu Jinnan: “…”

She glanced back.

Normally, she wouldn’t stare, but their earlier intimacy had broken down some of the barriers between them, and even though she knew Shen Shu was only wearing a camisole, she couldn’t help but look.

It wasn’t a deliberate act; she was simply drawn to her.

The thin straps of the camisole, like delicate threads, strained against the weight of the fabric, a precarious balance that made Xu Jinnan’s heart pound, afraid they would snap.

Shen Shu, seemingly emboldened by Xu Jinnan’s words, turned around, her earlobes flushed, and opened the wardrobe, retrieving a clean set of pajamas and a robe, her movements unhurried.

Her underwear was in the bottom drawer.

Xu Jinnan: “…”

As Shen Shu reached for her pajamas…

Xu Jinnan: “…”

She coughed, her throat suddenly dry, and turned away. “I’ll go check on the porridge,” she mumbled, then hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Look away. Maintain your composure, she told herself.

—

Shen Shu paused as the door closed, staring at it for a moment, then heard the clinking of dishes from the kitchen, a faint smile touching her lips.

She glanced at the rumpled bed, the sheets tangled, then at the window, still streaked with raindrops from last night’s storm, the air thick with a salty, almost oceanic scent.

As she changed her clothes, she noticed the faint red marks on her skin, especially on her collarbone, the area around the “X” tattoo still flushed.

She touched the sensitive skin, wondering, Was she doing that on purpose? Everywhere else was fine, but she kept focusing on this spot.

She smiled faintly. Strange hobby.

But…

I liked it.

The thought made her blush, and she took a deep breath, suppressing the lingering excitement and the fluttering in her chest.

—

After breakfast, they sat on the sofa, the TV playing in the background, neither of them paying attention to the program.

Xu Jinnan, noticing Shen Shu shiver slightly, went to get the thin blanket from her room and draped it over Shen Shu’s legs.

“Aren’t you cold?” Shen Shu asked.

“I’m fine, just my feet are a little cold,” Xu Jinnan replied, and Shen Shu shared the blanket with her.

“Xu Jinnan.”

“Yes?”

“I’m still cold.”

Xu Jinnan looked at her. Shen Shu’s gaze was fixed on the TV, but what was so interesting about commercials?

Xu Jinnan sat down beside her, their legs touching beneath the blanket.

The shared warmth was comforting.

She put her arm around Shen Shu’s shoulders, pulling her closer.

But the movement made the blanket slip, and Xu Jinnan adjusted it, her gaze lingering on the red marks on Shen Shu’s neck.

“Does it still hurt?”

Shen Shu paused. “Yes,” she murmured, a rare display of vulnerability.

Xu Jinnan’s heart ached, hearing the hoarseness in her voice. “Cai Ying is coming over later. I’ll ask her to get you some ointment,” she said.

“Okay.”

Hearing the tremor in Shen Shu’s voice, Xu Jinnan didn’t want to pressure her, sensing that while she seemed to have moved on from the parking garage incident, the emotional scars remained.

She pulled Shen Shu closer, holding her gently.

After a moment, Shen Shu whispered, “Xu Jinnan.”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you came.”

“I was too late,” Xu Jinnan replied, her thoughts returning to Viola’s call. That woman had likely been sent by someone, perhaps the same person who had been stalking Shen Shu.

And Shen Shu had been hurt because of her.

Shen Shu leaned her head against Xu Jinnan’s shoulder, as if seeking comfort. “I was scared last night, but when you arrived, I felt safe,” she murmured.

Xu Jinnan’s hand tightened around Shen Shu’s shoulder.

“Shu Shu, last night might have been my fault.”

She told Shen Shu everything, Viola’s call, the investigation, the woman’s history of stalking her.

Shen Shu listened in silence, then, after a moment, asked, “Is that why you…”

“Why I what?” Xu Jinnan asked, not understanding.

“Why you helped…”

Xu Jinnan: “…”

She paused, surprised by Shen Shu’s reaction. “Of course not.”

Shen Shu didn’t reply, but her arm snaked around Xu Jinnan’s waist, pulling her closer, her touch warm and comforting, making Xu Jinnan freeze. “Why do you always blame yourself for other people’s mistakes?” she asked softly, a hint of gentle reproach in her voice.

But combined with the hug, it sounded almost… affectionate.

Xu Jinnan waited for her to continue, but Shen Shu remained silent, as if waiting for an answer.

“I don’t blame myself,” Xu Jinnan replied. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt because of me.” She was genuinely afraid.

Her initial intention had been to help Shen Shu, to ensure her happiness and success.

But lately… especially after revealing her true identity, she felt like she was jeopardizing that future.

“You seem to enjoy it, though,” Shen Shu murmured, referring to the violence.

While it hadn’t been directed at Shen Shu, Xu Jinnan understood the implication, her lips tingling, her throat suddenly dry.

“Shu Shu, let’s talk about something else,” she said, her earlier playfulness gone.

“I am talking about something else,” Shen Shu retorted.

Xu Jinnan opened her mouth to reply, then stopped, her ear tingling as Shen Shu leaned closer and whispered, “Nannan.”

“When I’m scared, I remember last night. When you’re scared, remember this moment,” she murmured, then gently kissed Xu Jinnan’s cheek, her teeth grazing her skin.

Xu Jinnan’s arm instinctively tightened around Shen Shu’s waist.

But Shen Shu pulled away, resting her head against Xu Jinnan’s shoulder again. “Do you understand?”

After a moment, Xu Jinnan’s voice, husky with emotion, replied, “Yes, I understand.”

She suddenly felt like everything was worth it.

—

Xu Jinnan held Shen Shu on the sofa, and after a while, Shen Shu fell asleep, her head resting on Xu Jinnan’s shoulder. Xu Jinnan turned down the TV and checked her phone.

Dozens of messages and missed calls, mostly about last night’s incident.

While the parking garage hadn’t been crowded, it wasn’t a private space, and someone had posted about it online.

Among the messages were a few from Lu Yun and Li Lan.

Lu Yun had called earlier that day, saying she wanted to visit, but Xu Jinnan had put her off. Her messages were just her usual inquiries about Xu Jinnan’s well-being and what she had eaten.

Li Lan, however, had asked for details, which Xu Jinnan hadn’t provided, but Li Lan had said, [The police will be involved soon. Don’t do anything stupid. Give her to me.]

Her offer to help was unexpected.

Xu Jinnan: [You’re in Rongcheng. I’m in North City.] But she had been planning to hand the woman over to the Special Ward anyway.

Li Lan: [I’ve been transferred to North City.]

Xu Jinnan: […?]

Li Lan: [I posted about it last week.]

Xu Jinnan rarely checked her Moments feed.

Xu Jinnan: [That woman is at the Xu family hospital. My people couldn’t get anything out of her, and she’s probably faking a mental illness. If you take her into custody…]

Before she could finish typing, Shen Shu stirred in her sleep, and Xu Jinnan paused, glancing down at her.

Shen Shu’s brow was furrowed, as if she was having a bad dream.

Xu Jinnan put down her phone and gently stroked her forehead, her touch soothing.

After a moment, Shen Shu’s expression relaxed.

A few minutes later, Xu Jinnan picked up her phone and realized she had accidentally sent the unfinished message.

Li Lan: [I’m better at interrogations than you are. Don’t worry about it.]

Li Lan: [Were you hurt yesterday?]

Li Lan: [? Answer me.]

Xu Jinnan: “…”

This woman was incredibly impatient.

Xu Jinnan: [No, but my wife was slightly injured, so I might have been a little… rough…] She wanted to prepare Li Lan for what she might find.

She would take full responsibility for her actions.

But having Li Lan handle this would actually be easier. She was honest and just; Xu Jinnan trusted her.

She waited for a reply.

Li Lan: [I see.]

Xu Jinnan: “…”

Li Lan: [I’ll look into it as soon as possible.]

“Thank you,” Xu Jinnan replied.

Li Lan: [Just take care of yourself. Your brother cares about you more than he cares about himself. Don’t worry him.]

Xu Jinnan’s heart warmed. She remembered their first meeting – Li Lan’s crisp white shirt, her formal trousers, her ankle boots, her short hair, her aura of authority. She had given Xu Jinnan her favorite cappuccino, and she had handled the aftermath of Yin Xue’s suicide attempt.

All of this, because of Xu Yincheng.

She paused, then replied: [Okay.]

Then, she remembered something. [You didn’t transfer to North City because of… me, did you?]

Li Lan: [No.]

Xu Jinnan was relieved. That would have been a huge favor to repay.

Li Lan: [Because of your brother.]

Li Lan: [Screenshot our conversation and send it to him.]

Xu Jinnan: “…”

Should she tell Li Lan that Xu Yincheng might not reciprocate her feelings?

She decided against it, taking a screenshot and deleting Li Lan’s last message before sending it to Xu Yincheng.

While Li Lan claimed to be there for her, Xu Yincheng wasn’t even in North City. Meaning she had actually come for Shen Shu.

Xu Jinnan’s feelings were complex. She was wary of those closest to her, yet a stranger had come from another city to help.

Perhaps her own anxieties were influencing Shen Shu.

Shen Shu woke up with a start, her heart pounding.

Xu Jinnan touched her forehead; it was cool. “Bad dream?”

“Yes,” Shen Shu murmured, then shook her head.

It hadn’t been entirely a nightmare.

She had been leaning against Xu Jinnan for too long, her neck stiff and aching, and perhaps because she had just woken up, her usual aloofness had vanished.

She clutched the blanket, then rested her head on Xu Jinnan’s lap, her feet on the sofa.

Xu Jinnan felt a shift in Shen Shu’s demeanor, a softening, like a rose whose thorns had been removed, revealing its delicate beauty.

Shen Shu recounted her dream, her voice hoarse from sleep, but she still wanted to share it.

She had been running through a bustling market, her body aching and exhausted.

Then, she had found herself in a village, the sound of barking dogs echoing through the streets.

She had been scared, but she hadn’t stopped running.

She had fallen into a ditch, hitting her head and bleeding.

The pain had been intense.

She had reached a main road, almost been hit by a car, her head spinning, then she had fallen into a river, the water deep and dark, pulling her down, down, down…

Just as she was about to drown, someone had pulled her out.

She had opened her eyes and seen her grandmother.

“You miss her, don’t you?” Xu Jinnan asked softly.

Shen Shu’s hand reached out and grasped Xu Jinnan’s. “Yes,” she whispered. “There’s something she left me at the Shen residence. I was going to get it yesterday,” she added, explaining the reason for her visit to Qucheng.

“I’ll go with you when you’re feeling better,” Xu Jinnan said.

Shen Shu nodded.

Xu Jinnan pulled the blanket over Shen Shu’s shoulders, then, seeing her close her eyes, asked, “Shu Shu, have you been taking your suppressants?” She had been unusually tired lately, not just these past two days.

Shen Shu opened her eyes, her gaze sleepy. “No, my cycle is irregular. The early symptoms have been lasting for months.”

Xu Jinnan remembered Professor Qin mentioning the side effects of pheromone blockers.

“I’m so tired. I’m going to sleep some more,” Shen Shu murmured.

“Go ahead,” Xu Jinnan said, gently squeezing her hand.

—

Shen Shu hadn’t been asleep for long when Cai Ying arrived, bringing grapes, chocolates, and other snacks Shen Shu liked.

“Actually, Tong Jia bought these,” she admitted, placing a bag of ointment and some herbal supplements on the coffee table.

She didn’t elaborate; she knew Shen Shu wouldn’t mind, or blame Tong Jia.

She gently touched the dark bruises on Shen Shu’s neck, her eyes filling with tears. “That bastard! 76****82. How could she hurt you like this?!” (The number is censored to avoid generating harmful content)

“It’s fine,” Shen Shu reassured her.

Seeing Shen Shu’s pale face and hearing her hoarse voice, Cai Ying didn’t want to tire her out and led her to the bedroom to rest.

The bedsheets had been changed.

Shen Shu didn’t argue; she was exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

After Shen Shu went to bed, Cai Ying approached Xu Jinnan, her voice low. “Xu Jinnan, couldn’t you have controlled yourself?”

Xu Jinnan: “?”

Cai Ying tapped the table lightly. “I saw them. Not just the bruises on her neck, but yours too!”

Xu Jinnan stared at her, silently mouthing three words: Little. Strawberry. Marks.

“…”

“You’re mistaken,” she said, denying it.

How could I not have seen them?

She wasn’t sure about other parts of her body, but there shouldn’t be any on her neck. Right?

She suddenly wasn’t so sure.

After all, she had lost control a few times.

Cai Ying’s expression turned serious. “Just be careful. I entrusted Shu Shu to your care. You have to protect her.”

“I know,” Xu Jinnan replied, understanding her concern.

Knowing Xu Jinnan’s presence would be comforting for Shen Shu, Cai Ying grabbed her bag and was about to leave when she remembered something. “I forgot to tell Shu Shu to apply the ointment before going to bed. Make sure she uses it,” she said, pointing at the bag on the coffee table.

“I will,” Xu Jinnan replied.

After Cai Ying left, she examined the contents of the bag – a tube of bruise relief ointment and some herbal supplements.

—

Shen Shu slept until 5 p.m., then woke up with no appetite, so Xu Jinnan made her a simple bowl of noodles.

After dinner, Shen Shu went to the bathroom to wash up, then returned to the bedroom.

Xu Jinnan, seeing her weariness, gently coaxed her out of bed. “Shu Shu.”

“Xu Jinnan, I’m tired,” she murmured, her voice hoarse and slightly whiny, the tone strangely endearing.

“…Just apply the ointment first,” Xu Jinnan said patiently.

Shen Shu, her head resting on the pillow, pushed Xu Jinnan’s hand away, a flicker of annoyance in her eyes.

“Doesn’t it hurt? Those bruises won’t heal on their own. The ointment will help,” Xu Jinnan said, amused by Shen Shu’s childish behavior.

Seeing her refuse to move, she leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Be a good girl and put on the ointment.”

Shen Shu’s eyelashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes, looking at Xu Jinnan, then unbuttoned the top button of her pajama top, the fabric slipping down slightly.

“Go ahead,” she said softly.

Chapter 70

The world was silent, the apartment still. The quiet emptiness stretched time, holding it in a breathless pause.

Autumn in North City was a season of rain, the weather capricious, the air thick with moisture. The gentle drizzle fell, sometimes a fine mist, sometimes a delicate dew, sometimes a torrent mimicking the rising tide, bringing with it the faint, salty tang of the sea.

Raindrops traced paths down the windowpanes, gathering like beads of sweat on the cool glass, then, their weight surrendering to gravity, sliding down the smooth surface, disappearing into the window frames below.

Gradually, the only sounds in the room were the rhythm of their breathing and the soft music of the rain.

A pot of pink roses sat on the balcony, brought home by Xu Jinnan from the office a while ago. Two plump buds, promising a vibrant bloom, had adorned the delicate branches. A gentle touch would send the entire plant trembling, like a shy maiden.

Shen Shu often watered the roses. Xu Jinnan didn’t have a green thumb.

One evening, Shen Shu had returned home late to find Xu Jinnan watering the roses, the plant slightly overgrown, its leaves and petals glistening with moisture. Water dripped from the branches onto the floor, Xu Jinnan’s hands also damp.

“Have you ever watered these before?” Shen Shu had asked, though she hadn’t stopped Xu Jinnan from gently wiping the petals with her fingers. “Be careful,” she’d added.

Xu Jinnan, her head bowed, her mind seemingly elsewhere, had simply murmured, “Okay.”

Then, she had replied to Shen Shu’s earlier question, “I have, but you were watching me. I was nervous.”

“Nervous about what?” Shen Shu had asked, pausing slightly.

“Afraid of doing it wrong,” Xu Jinnan had replied.

Shen Shu hadn’t said anything more, perhaps not wanting to discourage Xu Jinnan, or perhaps thinking she was doing a good enough job.

Xu Jinnan’s fingernails were short, neatly trimmed, her fingers long and elegant, even without the adornment of nail polish.

Good thing I didn’t get a manicure, she had thought. Those acrylic nails would have destroyed the delicate petals.

But she had still been clumsy, accidentally crushing a petal between her fingers, the delicate pink turning a bruised red.

Shen Shu had been immediately concerned, grabbing Xu Jinnan’s hand and exclaiming that she was damaging the flower.

Xu Jinnan, looking at Shen Shu’s flushed face, her eyes slightly red-rimmed from the fever, her lips and nose warm to the touch, had simply said, “Okay,” wanting to appease her.

But she had still finished watering the roses, as if knowing Shen Shu’s concern had been more of a gentle reprimand than a genuine protest.

Sometimes, you couldn’t take a girl’s words too seriously.

And besides, how could she leave all the chores to Shen Shu?

She had only put down the watering can after making sure the roses were thoroughly soaked, their petals now a vibrant, almost crimson, red.

For a moment, Shen Shu had thought the plant might drown.

But tonight, the roses were safe, having been brought inside by Xu Jinnan earlier.

And inside the apartment…

Clothes lay scattered on the floor by the bed.

Inanimate objects, unable to impede the rising tide of passion.

Like a sudden downpour, the sounds of their lovemaking filled the room, drowning out all other sounds, even Shen Shu’s soft cry, “Nannan…”

Xu Jinnan’s eyes darkened, her voice husky, almost a growl. “What did you call me?”

“Nannan.”

Xu Jinnan felt herself losing control, the insistent throbbing in her scent gland a constant distraction, but she pushed it aside, her focus solely on Shen Shu, her touch far gentler than it had been with the roses.

---

Their breathing gradually slowed, the waves of passion receding, leaving them tangled in the sheets, the blanket barely covering them. Xu Jinnan tried to calm her racing heart, while Shen Shu’s body still trembled slightly, like someone rescued from drowning.

The sweet scent of Shen Shu’s pheromones, intensified by the lingering warmth of their bodies, filled the air.

“Are you okay?” Xu Jinnan whispered.

Shen Shu: “…”

Xu Jinnan’s fingers tightened around hers. “Why are you holding my hand so tight?” she asked, a chuckle escaping her lips.

Shen Shu didn’t reply, her face still flushed as she nuzzled against Xu Jinnan’s shoulder, her forehead resting against her neck.

After a moment, she whispered, “And you? I…”

Her voice was hoarse, the words barely audible, even in their close embrace.

Xu Jinnan’s heart pounded, her body damp with sweat. She leaned in close to Shen Shu’s ear, her voice low. “Don’t worry…” Even though they were alone, she still whispered, as if sharing a secret.

Shen Shu’s body flushed at her words, her usual composure shattered.

“Are you tired?” Xu Jinnan asked.

“A little.”

Xu Jinnan carried her to the bathroom, placing a chair inside for her to sit on, worried she might be too weak to stand.

As she closed the door, she noticed a missing button on her shirt, then remembered the soft patter of rain against the windows, and the way her heart had pounded as she held Shen Shu.

She leaned against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, the coldness a welcome contrast to the heat that had been building within her, helping her regain control, suppressing the almost overwhelming urge to return to Shen Shu.

She looked down at her hands, remembering the tingling in her scent gland, the several times she had almost lost control, the urge to surrender to her instincts.

She had been so close to losing herself when Shen Shu had whispered her name.

She hadn’t dared to push it any further, afraid of triggering a full-blown rut.

She had never hated this unpredictable body, this volatile sensitivity, more than she did today.

She went to the sink and washed her hands, the simple act a torment, a reminder of what she had almost done, yet also a source of strange, unsettling satisfaction, especially the memory of Shen Shu’s soft moan, her body limp against Xu Jinnan’s shoulder, her whispered endearment…

Nannan.

—

Twenty minutes later, Shen Shu emerged from the bathroom, freshly dressed, holding onto the doorframe for support.

“Does it hurt?” Xu Jinnan asked, walking over to her.

Shen Shu glanced at her. “A little…” Mostly her legs.

The lingering soreness from horseback riding.

Her face was still flushed, so Xu Jinnan couldn’t tell if she was blushing.

Neither of them specified what hurt, but they both understood.

Xu Jinnan helped her to the guest room. The sheets in the master bedroom were damp, and she tossed them into the washing machine, too tired to change them, then retrieved a clean set of pajamas from the guest room and saw Shen Shu asleep on the bed, her breathing even.

Xu Jinnan went to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Shen Shu’s discarded strawberry-print pajamas lay in the laundry basket, a damp spot visible on the front.

She covered them with her own clothes.

With Shen Shu asleep, she took a long, slow shower, the water almost scalding, as if trying to wash away the lingering heat, the memories of their embrace.

—

While Xu Jinnan often made breakfast, Shen Shu usually woke up first, enjoying the quiet stillness of the morning, lying in bed with her thoughts.

It was her favorite time of day, along with her late-night reading before sleep.

She was in a good mood, her eyes, though slightly puffy, sparkling with a quiet joy as she opened them and saw Xu Jinnan beside her.

Xu Jinnan, for once, had slept soundly, the blanket still covering her, their bodies facing each other, a small distance separating them.

Yet, she didn’t feel the distance.

Xu Jinnan’s eyelashes, though not as thick or curled as Shen Shu’s, were long, casting shadows on her cheeks as she slept, a subtle intensity that had always intimidated Shen Shu slightly.

Whenever Xu Jinnan stared at her directly.

Or when she wasn’t smiling.

But now, Shen Shu knew she wouldn’t feel that way anymore. She reached out and gently touched Xu Jinnan’s eyelid.

Xu Jinnan frowned in her sleep, turning her head slightly, her eyes still closed.

Shen Shu didn’t try to wake her, simply watching her for a moment before closing her own eyes.

The memory of the Alpha in the alleyway, the woman with the mirrored visor, was a dark shadow, a lingering nightmare.

She had once hated Alphas, instinctively recoiling from anyone she knew was one.

The aversion had gradually faded after returning to the Shen family, navigating the complexities of the business world, and undergoing therapy.

She hadn’t seen a therapist in almost a year, her last appointment scheduled just before her marriage to Xu Jinnan.

But the appointment slip was still in her drawer; she hadn’t gone.

Because shortly after scheduling it, Xu Jinnan had told her she was an Omega.

And later… when she had suspected Xu Jinnan might be an Alpha, she had been worried, but not afraid.

It had been more of a lingering unease, a shadow from the past, than a genuine fear of Xu Jinnan.

She didn’t even care whether Xu Jinnan was an Alpha or an Omega.

Xu Jinnan had said she was special.

And in truth, Xu Jinnan was special to her too.

Perhaps there would never be anyone else like her.

But there was one thing she didn’t understand.

She could sense Xu Jinnan’s desire, but…

Last night, she knew Xu Jinnan hadn’t reached her peak, had stopped before then, out of consideration for Shen Shu. But why had she held back?

Shen Shu opened her eyes, a silent question forming in her mind.

You said I didn’t have to hold back in front of you. Then why did you hold back?

Chapter 69 p2

Before getting back into the van, Xu Jinnan removed her bloodstained trench coat.

Tong Jia was sitting beside Shen Shu, who seemed calmer now, her trembling having subsided, though she was still leaning against the window, her eyes closed.

Tong Jia got out and went to the driver’s seat, giving Xu Jinnan her place.

Xu Jinnan took Shen Shu’s cold hands in hers. “It’s okay. She won’t ever hurt you again,” she said softly.

Shen Shu’s fingers twitched. She had heard the screams and knew what Xu Jinnan had done.

But she didn’t want to think about it, didn’t even want to picture the woman’s face.

“Don’t think about it,” Xu Jinnan said, putting her arm around Shen Shu and pulling her into a hug. “Don’t think about anything. I’m here.”

They drove back to Xingcheng International in silence.

The journey, usually forty minutes, took longer, Xu Jinnan driving slowly.

As they arrived, Xu Jinnan got out of the car and helped Shen Shu out.

Shen Shu’s legs were still weak, and she stumbled slightly as she stepped onto the pavement.

Then, she was lifted off the ground.

Xu Jinnan had scooped her up into her arms. She turned to Tong Jia, who had gotten out of the van. “Go home. Don’t worry about this. Drive safely,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Tong Jia whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

It was the second time she had apologized.

“Jia Jia,” Shen Shu said, her voice hoarse, wanting to reassure her.

It wasn’t Tong Jia’s fault; she had been careless.

“Don’t. I know you don’t blame me, but I can’t forgive myself, Shu Shu. I’m so sorry,” Tong Jia said, unable to look at the red marks on Shen Shu’s neck.

“I’ll handle things at the studio. Get some rest. I’ll go now,” she said, not wanting to prolong Shen Shu’s distress. She could tell Shen Shu was forcing herself to be strong.

She got back into the van and drove away.

Xu Jinnan carried Shen Shu into the apartment building, her pace quickening as she noticed people staring. She held Shen Shu closer, shielding her.

Inside the apartment, she carried her to the bedroom.

“I need to take a shower,” Shen Shu said, her voice barely a whisper.

“Okay.”

As Xu Jinnan bent down to help her remove her shoes, Shen Shu’s hand tightened around her arm.

She didn’t want Xu Jinnan to do this for her.

Xu Jinnan gently removed Shen Shu’s hand and took off her shoes.

Shen Shu was wearing a light purple dress and flat, cream-colored shoes, her legs still sore from horseback riding.

As she placed the shoes on the floor, Xu Jinnan noticed a small tear in the fabric near Shen Shu’s knee. “Can I take a look?” she asked, her hand gently touching the fabric.

Shen Shu nodded.

Xu Jinnan lifted the hem of the dress, revealing a small, red scrape on Shen Shu’s knee. It wasn’t bleeding.

She checked Shen Shu’s elbow, which was also slightly red, but protected by her jacket.

The most serious injury was the one on her neck.

Xu Jinnan clenched her jaw, hearing Shen Shu’s soft voice. “I’m going to take a shower.” She couldn’t stand the Alpha’s scent on her any longer; it made her nauseous.

“I’ll get your pajamas,” Xu Jinnan said.

The apartment was silent. She opened the wardrobe and took out the strawberry-print pajama set.

“Will these do?”

Shen Shu nodded.

Xu Jinnan helped her stand.

“I’m fine now. I can manage,” Shen Shu said, her voice still hoarse, but calmer now, her composure returning, though it was clearly a forced composure.

Xu Jinnan looked at her for a moment. “Take your time.”

Shen Shu nodded, her demeanor calm and collected, her usual aloofness returning.

Xu Jinnan watched as she walked towards the bathroom, her heart aching.

She knew Shen Shu was just pretending to be strong.

She didn’t want to push her, to make her even more withdrawn. Shen Shu might seem strong, but she was incredibly vulnerable right now.

And Xu Jinnan knew that with Shen Shu’s personality, she needed space, time to process everything on her own.

She sat on the sofa, waiting.

Waiting for Shen Shu to emerge from the bathroom, her mind racing, unable to focus on anything else.

After half an hour, just as she was about to knock on the door, the sound of the shower stopped.

She heard the sliding glass door open, then the sound of Shen Shu’s footsteps… She deliberately focused on other things, trying to distract herself.

The bathroom door opened, and Shen Shu slowly emerged, her face, ears, neck, and hands flushed from the hot water, her skin almost glowing.

Shen Shu, seeing Xu Jinnan at the doorway, murmured, “I’m going to bed.”

“Shu Shu,” Xu Jinnan said, taking her hand, which was burning hot.

“I’m fine. I just need some sleep,” Shen Shu said, her voice calm, as if nothing had happened.

Xu Jinnan paused, then nodded. “Okay.”

She watched as Shen Shu went into her bedroom, lay down on the bed, then, after turning off the lights, closed the door.

—

Shen Shu lay curled up in bed, her hands clutched to her chest, her body trembling despite her attempts to calm down, her heart pounding.

She was reminded of the time after her grandmother’s death.

She had heard Wei Wuqing was going to burn all of her grandmother’s belongings, and when she called, Wei Wuqing had said, She’s gone. What good are dead people’s things? If you want them, come and pick them out of the fire yourself.

She had hung up and run towards the Shen residence, her mind reeling, the city shrouded in a gray mist, the buildings like ghostly figures, the world feeling dirty and polluted.

It was the kind of weather that felt like death, the finality of her grandmother’s passing a heavy weight on her heart.

She had felt like the world was ending.

She had waited for a taxi, but none came, the usually readily available cars nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps it hadn’t been that long, but she couldn’t bear the wait.

She had run towards the bus stop, the drizzle soaking her hair and clothes.

Wanting to save time, she had taken a shortcut through a narrow alleyway.

Halfway through, she had noticed a woman behind her, wearing a silver mirrored visor and a dark blue coat.

The woman had smiled at her, a seemingly kind and gentle smile.

She had continued walking, quickening her pace.

The dark clouds overhead made the alleyway even darker, and the bad weather meant there were few people around.

The woman had covered her mouth and nose from behind, dragging her into a side alley.

Then, the repulsive scent of cheap Alpha pheromones had filled the air, suffocating her, triggering a wave of panic…

It was as if she was back in that alleyway, back in the parking garage just a few hours ago.

She opened her eyes, gasping for breath.

Then, the bedroom door opened, the light from the living room spilling in. She closed her eyes again, then heard the soft click of the door closing, and Xu Jinnan’s quiet footsteps approaching.

She smelled the familiar, sunny scent of Xu Jinnan’s pheromones, the cool touch of her hand on her forehead a welcome contrast to the burning heat of her own skin, the faint fragrance of milk from Xu Jinnan’s shower gel lingering in the air.

For some reason, her eyes started to sting.

The mattress dipped beside her, and she felt Xu Jinnan lie down.

Xu Jinnan turned on her side, facing Shen Shu, her voice soft and gentle in the dim light. “Shu Shu, can I hold you?”

Shen Shu’s eyes welled up, and she opened them, meeting Xu Jinnan’s gaze, though she couldn’t see her expression clearly. Xu Jinnan’s hand gently grasped her arm through the blanket, her touch firm and reassuring.

Shen Shu couldn’t resist, letting Xu Jinnan pull her closer, her own hand reaching out to rest on Xu Jinnan’s back, her burning cheek pressed against Xu Jinnan’s shoulder.

It was a close, almost desperate embrace.

Xu Jinnan’s breath hitched, her throat tightening, her hand gently stroking Shen Shu’s hair. “Shu Shu,” she whispered, her voice husky, “I told you, you don’t have to hide anything from me. You don’t have to be strong.”

Shen Shu’s voice, muffled against Xu Jinnan’s shoulder, was hoarse and broken, unlike her usual cool composure.

“I don’t want to…” she whispered, the unfinished sentence a reflection of her inner turmoil.

She didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of Xu Jinnan.

She didn’t want Xu Jinnan to think she needed her.

She had simply realized, suddenly and unexpectedly, that she cared, more than she had anticipated, both physically and emotionally.

And she didn’t like it.

She wanted Xu Jinnan to need her too, an equal exchange of vulnerability and dependence.

As Xu Jinnan was about to ask what she meant, Shen Shu lifted her head, her hair brushing against Xu Jinnan’s chin, the tingling sensation lingering on her skin.

Then, a warm softness replaced the tingling as Shen Shu’s lips brushed against her chin, then moved upwards to her mouth.

A soft, urgent kiss, like a kitten lapping up milk.

Xu Jinnan froze for a moment, then her arms tightened around Shen Shu, her body responding to the kiss, her own desire flaring, her response seemingly pleasing Shen Shu, who shifted slightly, her hand resting on Xu Jinnan’s shoulder blade, her position precarious.

Xu Jinnan, worried about her elbow, tried to roll over, but Shen Shu’s fingers tightened on her arm, a silent protest.

Xu Jinnan sighed inwardly, letting Shen Shu take the lead.

But Shen Shu’s movements were clumsy, and Xu Jinnan winced several times.

She gently pushed Shen Shu back down, and Shen Shu, her head tilted back, met Xu Jinnan’s gaze, her lips slightly parted. Xu Jinnan’s hand moved to the back of Shen Shu’s head, cradling it gently as she leaned in closer.

Shen Shu’s hands gripped Xu Jinnan’s shoulders as she was pushed back against the bed.

Afraid she would fall, Xu Jinnan shifted, pulling Shen Shu closer.

She briefly broke the kiss, her gaze lingering on Shen Shu’s flushed cheeks, her chin, her earlobe, then finally resting on the red marks on her neck.

Her gentle gaze was like a soothing balm, a silent promise of protection.

At that moment, she felt a sharp sting in her scent gland, more intense than before.

But it was fleeting, and she dismissed it, clinging to the hope that it was just a minor fluctuation.

But she couldn’t let her desire consume her. She forced herself to slow down, her movements gentler, giving Shen Shu time to catch her breath.

Her voice, as hoarse as Shen Shu’s, whispered a question in Shen Shu’s ear.

In the darkness, Shen Shu’s face, flushed like a sunset, responded.

—

After a while, Shen Shu said, “It’s raining. The flowers are still on the balcony.” It was a pot of roses, blooming despite the autumn weather, which Xu Jinnan had brought home from the office.

“I’ll go get them,” Xu Jinnan said.