Category: Captivating Beauty

Chapter 69 p1

The Alpha’s crude scent, like a cockroach lurking in a sewer, made Shen Shu’s stomach churn. She couldn’t scream, couldn’t even gag, her throat constricted by a rough hand.

Panic seized her, the suffocating grip triggering a flashback to a past trauma.

Her body trembled uncontrollably, her hands and legs shaking.

The Alpha’s other hand shoved her roughly against the car, her back hitting the door handle, the impact strangely painless as she struggled frantically, a choked gasp escaping her lips.

The hand tightened around her throat, silencing her.

She felt like she was drowning, the world turning dark, a wave of despair and helplessness washing over her.

Xu Jinnan.

Her mind clung to the name, a lifeline in the suffocating darkness.

Xu Jinnan, where are you?

—

The secluded corner of the parking garage, hidden behind a van, offered a measure of privacy.

It wasn’t quite quitting time, nor was it late enough for those working overtime to be leaving.

The few cars that passed by didn’t notice what was happening.

Shen Shu’s face was flushed, her body struggling against the suffocating grip, desperate to break free.

She hadn’t given up, her muffled whimpers echoing in the enclosed space as she clawed at the Alpha’s arm, her nails digging into the rough skin.

But the difference in strength between an Alpha and an Omega, compounded by her recent illness, made escape almost impossible.

“I love the way you struggle. It excites me, just like that time,” the Alpha whispered, her face close to Shen Shu’s neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her pheromones.

Even in this precarious situation, the Alpha wasn’t worried, her eyes gleaming with a perverse excitement.

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled, revealing yellowed teeth. “Darling, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this opportunity… you’re so cautious, you and your little wife. I was so angry when I heard about your marriage. How could you betray me like that? How could you give yourself to someone else?”

“Such purity shouldn’t be tainted. It’s a shame you’re not a virgin anymore, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t mind. Even if you’ve been with someone else, I still love you… See? I love you so much.” She pressed her fingers against Shen Shu’s throat, the touch almost tender.

Shen Shu’s nails dug deeper into the Alpha’s skin, the repulsive scent of her pheromones filling the air, suffocating her.

She felt like she was dying.

The Alpha winced at the pain, tightening her grip on Shen Shu’s throat. “I’ve never forgotten you, not after all these years. I almost marked you back then, but… it doesn’t matter. I’ve waited so long for this opportunity, and now it’s finally here.”

“Let me mark you.”

“I’ve been dreaming of this for so long.”

Shen Shu’s vision blurred, her lungs burning.

Perhaps sensing she was about to lose consciousness, the Alpha loosened her grip slightly.

Shen Shu gasped for air, then, seeing the Alpha’s leering face approaching, she screamed, the sound echoing through the parking garage.

With a surge of adrenaline-fueled strength, she punched the Alpha in the face.

The Alpha instinctively closed her eyes, and Shen Shu, seizing the opportunity, shoved her away and ran.

But the Alpha reacted quickly.

As Shen Shu turned to flee, she tripped and fell, her knees and elbows scraping against the rough concrete floor, the pain a sharp contrast to the earlier numbness.

Then, she heard the sound of a car approaching.

Tears streamed down her face as she cried out, her voice muffled by the Alpha’s hand covering her mouth.

The Alpha dragged her back, her voice cold and emotionless, like a true psychopath. “You’ve been a bad girl.”

Shen Shu saw a box of grapes, the ones Xu Jinnan had given her earlier.

“Mmm…!” she whimpered, tears streaming down her face.

The Alpha placed the box on the floor, opened it with one hand, and picked through the grapes. “I was looking for the one you touched, but I couldn’t find it, so I took them all. You have no idea how much trouble I went through…” She took a grape, rolled it against Shen Shu’s tear-stained cheek, then popped it into her mouth.

“Let me mar—”

The screech of tires echoed through the parking garage as a car came to a sudden stop.

The Alpha turned around, startled, just as a fist connected with her nose, the bone cracking, blood spurting out, her face instantly covered in crimson.

Then, she felt a sharp tug on her hair, her body lifted off the ground and slammed against a car.

Bang!

The impact made the car shudder.

Xu Jinnan’s face was a mask of fury as she slammed the woman against the car again, then, as she fell to the ground, kicked her hard in the chest.

A scream echoed through the parking garage.

Tong Jia, approaching from a distance, saw the scene and her blood ran cold. She ran towards them.

“Shu Shu!”

But before she could reach them, the Alpha scrambled to her feet and ran.

Tong Jia, seeing her attacker fleeing, instinctively wanted to stop her, her fear momentarily forgotten.

But a hand grabbed her wrist.

Viola, running towards them, pulled Tong Jia aside. “Stay back,” she said, then, with a swift kick, sent the Alpha sprawling to the ground.

Xu Jinnan, after a brief glance at Viola, rushed to Shen Shu’s side.

Shen Shu was slumped against the car, her hands on the ground, her body shaking, coughing and gagging, flinching at Xu Jinnan’s touch and instinctively recoiling.

“Shu Shu,” Xu Jinnan whispered, her hand hovering over Shen Shu’s shoulder, her brow furrowed, her breath catching in her throat.

Hearing her voice, Shen Shu’s ragged breathing slowed slightly.

Xu Jinnan gently touched her shoulder, then pulled her into a hug.

Shen Shu collapsed against her, sobbing softly, her body trembling.

It wasn’t a loud, dramatic cry, but it tore at Xu Jinnan’s heart, a wave of anger and protectiveness washing over her.

She gently patted Shen Shu’s back, her voice soothing. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Shen Shu clung to her, her fingers digging into Xu Jinnan’s back, her body still trembling, her voice hoarse and barely audible, but she still whispered Xu Jinnan’s name, as if seeking reassurance, or perhaps just instinctively seeking comfort.

“I’m here,” Xu Jinnan murmured, her face buried in Shen Shu’s hair, the close contact a silent promise of protection. “I’m here,” she repeated.

Viola had apprehended the Alpha, pinning her arms behind her back.

Tong Jia rushed to the van, her eyes filling with tears as she saw Shen Shu in Xu Jinnan’s arms.

She bit her lip, her heart heavy with guilt.

She shouldn’t have been so careless.

She had thought it would only take a few minutes to retrieve the keys, hadn’t anticipated the delay, or the missing grapes.

She couldn’t imagine what Shen Shu had endured during those few minutes alone.

Seeing Shen Shu’s trembling form and the blood on the ground, she couldn’t bear to think about it.

And Xu Jinnan had warned her not to leave Shen Shu alone…

She was consumed by guilt.

Xu Jinnan held Shen Shu tightly, her attention focused solely on her, feeling her trembling subside slightly. She gently cupped Shen Shu’s face, wanting to see the extent of her injuries.

Her fingertips brushed against Shen Shu’s tears, and she flinched… If only I had arrived a few minutes earlier.

“Shu Shu,” she whispered, her voice gentle but firm, “let me see if you’re hurt.”

Shen Shu shook her head.

Xu Jinnan’s lips brushed against her hair. “Just let me see, okay?” she murmured.

The familiar, comforting scent of her pheromones, like warm sunshine, eased Shen Shu’s fear, and she slowly lifted her head, her eyes red and swollen, her face streaked with tears, her long eyelashes wet.

Her face was flushed, the redness a lingering effect of the Alpha’s chokehold.

Xu Jinnan’s gaze fell on the dark red marks on Shen Shu’s neck, the imprint of five fingers, like the scars of a knife, a painful sight.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, suppressing the rage that threatened to consume her.

Her thumb gently wiped away Shen Shu’s tears. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Shen Shu’s eyes fluttered, her throat tight and sore.

“Xu Jinnan, let’s go home,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

The sound tore at Xu Jinnan’s heart. “Okay, let’s go home,” she replied, helping Shen Shu stand, then, seeing her legs buckle, scooped her up into her arms.

Shen Shu, seeing Tong Jia standing nearby, her face pale and her eyes filled with tears, coughed, trying to catch her breath. “Jia Jia, I’m fine,” she said, her voice raspy.

Tong Jia looked like a child who had been caught doing something wrong.

Hearing Shen Shu’s attempt to comfort her, her guilt intensified.

“Tong Jia, open the door,” Xu Jinnan said.

The van was more spacious and comfortable than her car.

Tong Jia immediately opened the back door, and Xu Jinnan gently placed Shen Shu on the seat, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead.

“Wait here for me,” she said.

Shen Shu’s eyes, still red and swollen, met hers, her silence a clear sign of her fear and anxiety.

“I’ll be right back. I promise,” Xu Jinnan reassured her, touching her hair gently, then, leaving Tong Jia with her, got out of the van.

The door closed.

The gentle warmth in Xu Jinnan’s eyes vanished, replaced by a chilling coldness.

As she walked towards the woman Viola was restraining, her heel crunched on a stray grape, and she glanced down, remembering seeing this woman before.

The one who had barged into Shen Shu’s dressing room. She had assumed it was a mistake, but now, it seemed like a deliberate act.

She reached the woman and gestured for Viola to pull her into a more secluded corner.

As the woman struggled, her glasses fell to the ground, and Xu Jinnan, without a second thought, stepped on them, the lenses shattering, the frames twisting beneath her heel.

As she stood over the woman, a wave of powerful Alpha pheromones, like a tsunami, filled the air.

The woman screamed, collapsing to the ground, her body trembling.

Even Viola, despite being an Alpha herself, felt a surge of fear, the instinctive recoil of a lower-ranking Alpha in the presence of a dominant one.

The woman’s mind reeled from the psychic assault, but she wasn’t afraid, her eyes still wild and frantic, her voice shrill. “Let me go! She’s mine! Shen Shu is mine! I almost had her back then! Let me go!!!” She didn’t seem to comprehend the danger she was in.

Hearing her words, Xu Jinnan finally understood the depth of Shen Shu’s fear. This wasn’t just a random attack; this woman was a ghost from her past – the Alpha who had assaulted her, the one Cai Ying had mentioned.

The one who had triggered Shen Shu’s aversion to Alphas.

Xu Jinnan’s eyes narrowed, her fingers curling into a fist. “CEO Xu, should I call the police?” Viola asked.

Xu Jinnan unclenched her fist, her voice devoid of emotion. “Call an ambulance first.”

Viola paused, then, understanding Xu Jinnan’s intentions, her eyes widening slightly.

Xu Jinnan, wearing a beige trench coat, the sleeves secured with cuffs, unbuttoned them, freeing her wrists.

A few seconds later, a bloodcurdling scream echoed from the corner of the parking garage.

—

 

Chapter 68 p2

After focusing on her work for a while, Viola knocked on the door.

“CEO Xu, Miss Xia is here,” she said.

“Xia Chun?” Xu Jinnan asked, and Viola confirmed. Xia Chun’s character was a fashion stylist who had studied abroad.

She was wearing a stylish white dress and a dark blue coat, her usual gentle expression replaced by a coldness as she looked at Xu Jinnan.

“Miss Xia, please have a seat,” Xu Jinnan said, leaning back in her chair, unfazed by her demeanor.

“No need for formalities,” Xia Chun replied, standing a few feet away, her voice calm. “I received the information you sent through Tong Jia.”

“Oh, so you’re here to say it was a misunderstanding, that your staff acted without your knowledge?”

“Whether you believe me or not is irrelevant. I’m not here to explain myself,” Xia Chun said.

Xu Jinnan smiled faintly. “Then what are you here for?”

Xia Chun’s chin lifted slightly. “You sent me a message. I had to respond. If I didn’t, you might think I was afraid of you.”

“You’re overthinking it,” Xu Jinnan replied, her posture relaxed. “I don’t think you’re afraid of me, or anything else, because frankly, I don’t care.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, her words laced with a subtle disdain.

The message was clear – You’re not even on my radar.

Xia Chun’s eyes narrowed slightly. “It’s not important,” she said.

“Xu Jinnan, you don’t deserve her.”

Xu Jinnan raised an eyebrow. So, we’re being direct now, are we? Fine.

“And you do? You’re the one who turned her into a ‘homewrecker’ in the eyes of your fans, accusing her of using you for clout,” she retorted, her smile not reaching her eyes.

Xia Chun’s brow furrowed instinctively, then quickly smoothed out.

She admitted she had ulterior motives, hoping to see Shen Shu, to have a chance to talk to her. Shen Shu’s coldness, her deliberate distance, had been driving her crazy.

In the drama, they were former lovers, their feelings still lingering, but outside of filming, Shen Shu treated her like a stranger, her eyes devoid of any warmth or recognition.

But Shen Shu looked at Xu Jinnan differently.

And it reminded Xia Chun of their past, of the happy memories they had shared.

She had seen the online discussions, the CP super topic drama, and she hadn’t wanted to clarify things… she knew it was wrong.

She had even read the comments accusing Shen Shu of using her for fame.

But she couldn’t help herself, finally reposting Shen Shu’s Weibo post, a painful act of surrender, like handing over the person she loved to someone else.

“I admit I had ulterior motives. And you? You used such underhanded tactics to force her into this marriage. Are you any better?” Xia Chun asked.

Xu Jinnan looked at her, her voice cool and indifferent. “You’re the past. You have no right to question me.”

Xia Chun, stung by her dismissive tone, felt a surge of anger. It was the condescending attitude of someone in power, looking down on those beneath them.

“The future is long. Who knows what will happen?” she retorted.

Xu Jinnan smiled, then, after a moment of silence, wondered if the term “destined” had a different meaning in Savage Lover.

Or perhaps the changes in the plot and Shen Shu’s character had also changed Xia Chun’s role.

The current Xia Chun didn’t seem like the “destined” partner described in the novel.

“Fine, I’ve given you enough face,” she said, her voice cold, then stood up and picked up her phone, finding Shen Shu’s number, which was pinned at the top of her contact list, and dialed it, right in front of Xia Chun.

Xia Chun, not realizing she was making a call, was about to speak when she heard a familiar voice.

“Hello?”

Shen Shu’s cool, calm voice came through the line, the background noise slightly muffled.

Xu Jinnan looked at Xia Chun, her voice low and intimate. “Wife, I miss you,” she murmured. She had used that term once before, when Shen Shu had broken ties with the Shen family, and occasionally in the group chat, but rarely in private.

Shen Shu was silent for a moment.

In the quiet office, the sound of her voice through the phone’s speaker was clear and distinct.

“I miss you too,” she replied.

—

Xia Chun’s face paled, and she left without hearing the rest of their conversation.

The office door closed.

“Xia Chun was just here,” Xu Jinnan explained softly.

“I know,” Shen Shu replied.

Xu Jinnan could hear the faint sounds of activity from the film crew’s office. With their offices facing each other, it wasn’t surprising Shen Shu knew Xia Chun had visited.

“So, you didn’t actually miss me,” Shen Shu said, her tone neutral.

Xu Jinnan paused, unsure what she meant.

She chuckled softly. “Not entirely.”

“Then what?” Shen Shu asked, her voice still calm.

Xu Jinnan pictured Shen Shu sitting in her chair, the script in her lap, her free hand resting on the open page, her head slightly bowed as she spoke on the phone.

“Wait for me,” she said.

She hung up.

—

In the resting area, Shen Shu put down her phone and picked up her well-worn script, her expression unreadable.

A few minutes later, a commotion erupted in the office area across the hall, a mixture of excited chatter and gasps.

She heard a familiar name and looked up.

Xu Jinnan, a smile on her face, was walking towards her, carrying a clear container of grapes. She exchanged greetings with the director and a few actors along the way, handing one of them the container briefly.

After dismissing them with a few polite words, she reached Shen Shu. There were no chairs nearby, so she simply crouched down beside her, placing the container in Shen Shu’s lap.

“Have some. They’re washed,” she said, looking up at Shen Shu, her eyes smiling.

As she crouched down, Shen Shu heard a collective intake of breath from the nearby crew members.

She nudged Xu Jinnan’s arm. “Stand up. There are chairs over there,” she said, her voice slightly sharp.

Xu Jinnan glanced at her arm, then at Shen Shu’s hand, which was still resting on her shoulder. “I have to go out for a bit,” she said.

“Okay,” Shen Shu replied, taking the grapes.

“How’s your leg?” Xu Jinnan asked.

“Still a little sore,” Shen Shu admitted.

“Can you take a couple of days off?”

“The production can’t wait for me,” Shen Shu said. “It’s fine. I don’t have many scenes in the next few days.”

Xu Jinnan didn’t say anything more, watching as Shen Shu peeled a grape. She always peeled her grapes, unlike Xu Jinnan.

Shen Shu offered her a grape, and Xu Jinnan took it, popping it into her mouth and deftly removing the skin with her lips and tongue, then licking a stray drop of juice from her lip.

She’s so… sensual, even when she’s just eating, Shen Shu thought, then noticed a young woman staring at Xu Jinnan.

The woman, catching Shen Shu’s eye, quickly blushed and looked away.

Shen Shu turned to Xu Jinnan. “Can you at least try to be a little more… discreet?” she asked, her voice slightly annoyed.

Xu Jinnan looked at her, puzzled. “Huh?”

Shen Shu didn’t elaborate, and just then, the assistant director called out, “Places, everyone!”

Shen Shu placed the grape back in the container and closed the lid. Xu Jinnan stood up, telling Shen Shu she might be late tonight and wouldn’t be able to pick her up.

“I might go home tonight,” Shen Shu said, meaning the Shen residence.

She was going to retrieve the item her grandmother had left her.

—

After Xu Jinnan left, Shen Shu filmed for another five hours, over an hour later than she had expected.

It was almost 6 p.m., dinner time at the Shen residence, so she decided to go another time.

As she messaged Wei Wuqing to reschedule, she and Tong Jia entered the elevator.

Wei Wuqing didn’t seem particularly bothered, simply adding, [It’s fine. Bring Nannan with you next time.]

Shen Shu replied with a noncommittal “Okay.”

Wei Wuqing had been displeased when Shen Shu had said Xu Jinnan wouldn’t be coming. She knew her mother well; if she refused again, Wei Wuqing would use her grandmother’s gift as leverage.

She was about to reply to Xu Jinnan when a notification popped up.

Xu Jinnan: [Just leaving? I’ll be at the office soon, but I have a few things to deal with.]

Shen Shu: [Just got into the elevator.]

Xu Jinnan asked if she was still going to the Shen residence, and Shen Shu said she would go another day.

Xu Jinnan’s replies were almost instantaneous. [Then go home and get some rest. I’ll come over when I’m done.]

Shen Shu: [Okay.]

Since Shen Shu had been planning to go to the Shen residence, Tong Jia had dismissed her driver, intending to accompany her. Now that she wasn’t going, Tong Jia offered to drive her back to Xingcheng International.

Shen Shu felt bad about imposing on her.

“It’s nothing compared to you taking a slap for me. I’m happy to do it,” Tong Jia said.

Shen Shu’s heart warmed. She had always been aloof and had few friends. Before meeting Xu Jinnan and Tong Jia, only Cai Ying had truly cared about her.

As they reached the parking garage and Shen Shu was about to unlock the car, Tong Jia suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, I left the car keys in my makeup bag! Xinxin gave them to me this afternoon, and I put them away. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Shen Shu replied, nodding, then remembered something. “Jia Jia, can you bring down the grapes too? I forgot them.”

—

As Tong Jia went back upstairs, Xia Chun emerged from the restroom.

“Jia-jie, what are you doing back here? I thought you left with Shu Shu,” a crew member asked.

“Shu Shu is waiting for me downstairs. I forgot my keys,” Tong Jia replied.

Hearing Shen Shu’s name, Xia Chun felt a pang of jealousy.

The image of Shen Shu and Xu Jinnan together, their earlier intimacy, flashed through her mind.

She looked away, her gaze stopping on a figure entering the elevator – a woman in a black hat and glasses.

“Xia Chun, what are you looking at?” her assistant asked, noticing her reaction.

“Did you see the person who just got into the elevator?”

“Which one? I wasn’t paying attention.”

Xia Chun didn’t reply, taking a few steps towards the elevator, as if trying to get a better look, when her agent called out to her.

“Chun Chun, come here. Director Zhang wants you.”

By the time she turned around, the elevator doors had closed.

“Xia Chun, are you feeling alright?” her assistant asked.

Xia Chun paused, then shook her head. “I must have been mistaken,” she murmured. She had seen that woman before, at the prison. For a moment, the woman in the elevator, with her glasses, had reminded her of the Alpha who had assaulted Shen Shu.

But this was a film set, with restricted access. It couldn’t have been her.

Her agent called out to her again, and she pushed the thought aside.

The parking lot had been full that morning, and she had parked in a remote corner. The occasional sound of a car starting echoed through the vast space.

Shen Shu stood by the car, the silence of the parking garage amplifying her sense of unease.

Xu Jinnan had said she would be at the office soon. Perhaps they would meet.

The thought calmed her slightly.

Then, she heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching, and that feeling of being watched returned.

A shiver ran down her spine, and she quickly turned around.

This time, she wasn’t alone.

A woman in a black beret emerged from behind a van a few meters away, smiling at Shen Shu, her glasses glinting in the dim light.

—

As Xu Jinnan’s white Bentley entered the parking garage, she was about to message Shen Shu when she heard a scream.

She froze, her blood running cold.

It was a high-pitched, terrified scream, filled with panic, revulsion, and fear.

A sound so familiar it pierced her heart.

Chapter 68 p1

The traffic was surprisingly light, and they reached the studio ahead of schedule. As soon as they arrived, Xinxin hurried over, phone in hand, excitedly recounting the latest developments on Weibo.

Shen Shu went to get her makeup done, and Tong Jia took the phone.

Several hashtags were trending:

#SelfShippingIsTheBest

#XiaChunWeibo

#NanShuSuperTopic

#ShengXiaSuperTopic

“Xia Chun reposted it?” Tong Jia asked, opening Xia Chun’s Weibo. She had reposted the pinned giveaway post from the “NanShu” super topic, even tagging Shen Shu.

Xia Chun’s immense popularity meant the post quickly gained traction, the comments section exploding.

Chun Chun is such a goddess! So kind and gentle!

Poor thing, dragged into this mess, and now she has to help clarify things.

This feels like shipping best friends…

They must be close friends. They seemed to get along well before.

Blink twice if you’re being held hostage.

While the effect wasn’t as impactful as it could have been, it was still a gesture of support.

Before the makeup artist arrived, Tong Jia lowered her voice. “I’m feeling conflicted. Should I thank her? She waited two days to do this. But then again, she did repost it. What do you think?” Xia Chun had reposted the giveaway before Tong Jia had given her the information about the “Sheng Xia” super topic, so it had been a deliberate act of support.

“Let’s focus on our own work,” Shen Shu replied. She just wanted to act.

Tong Jia nodded. “Then check this out. You and CEO Xu are trending too. She must be making a killing off this publicity.” She chuckled. “Time for CEO Xu to treat us to dinner.”

Shen Shu took out her phone, glancing at Xia Chun’s repost before scrolling through the trending topics.

EntertainmentGossip: #NanShuSuperTopic CPs are so hot right now! Checked out this super topic, and the giveaway amount is insane! Joining the hype train! Everyone, come get your free money!

It was the most popular post, reposted by several other bloggers.

NotAnInfluencer: #NanShuSuperTopic Never followed this before, but after watching that live stream, who can forget that epic takedown? CEO Xu’s kick was legendary. (If you haven’t seen it, check out my previous post! Go watch it!)

The comments below:

The way she told that bitch to turn off the live stream was so badass!

For those who don’t understand, here’s a recap: Shen Shu protected her agent and got hit (not sure where, because they cut the feed), then CEO Xu, defending her wife, told the cheater to turn off the live stream… It was so hot! I was smitten!

They’re both amazing! Relationship goals! Shen Shu is truly a goddess. Check out the video of her greeting her fans.

A perfect match! I’m obsessed!

Intrigued, Shen Shu clicked on the link to the blogger’s previous post, a short video of Xu Jinnan kicking Qiao Rui when she tried to grab the phone.

As she finished watching, her finger accidentally brushed against the like button, and she paused, watching as it turned red, then decided not to unlike it.

—

It was lunchtime.

Shen Shu was eating the low-fat meal Xu Jinnan had ordered for her when a shadow fell over her, blocking the sunlight.

Tong Jia, who had been organizing some props, saw who it was and hurried over. “Xia Chun,” she said.

“I saw the information. I wanted to explain something to you in person,” Xia Chun said, glancing at Tong Jia, then turning to Shen Shu. “I knew about the super topic, and I admit I had ulterior motives, but I didn’t know it was someone from my studio who created the giveaway.” Her candid admission surprised Tong Jia.

She smiled faintly, glancing around, then handed Shen Shu a script, as if she had come to discuss the scene.

Shen Shu took the script, understanding the gesture. She stood up. “I see. Thank you for telling me, and thank you for the repost,” she said, her tone polite and professional.

“Ah Shu, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Xia Chun said, her voice sincere. “I’ve been struggling these past few days. Seeing those comments about you… it hurt me more than it hurt you. I’m sorry I didn’t defend you sooner.”

Shen Shu paused, then shook her head. “You didn’t have to do that. You don’t have to apologize. Really.” Her voice was polite, almost distant, simply acknowledging Xia Chun’s words. She didn’t care if Xia Chun had been aware of the rumors, or what her true intentions were.

Xia Chun’s heart ached, a heavy feeling in her chest.

Tong Jia, sensing the tension, and afraid Xia Chun would say something inappropriate, like at the hospital, quickly interrupted. “Xia Chun, thank you for clarifying things. We believe you. We didn’t mean anything by sending you that information…”

“I know,” Xia Chun said, looking away. “It was from CEO Xu. I understand her message. You don’t have to tell me what to do.” Her mood was dark, her voice colder than usual.

Shen Shu’s indifference, her distance, filled her with a sense of dread she had never felt before, worse even than during the years they had been apart.

As if she knew, deep down, that she had lost Shen Shu forever.

Just as Tong Jia was about to speak, Tan Jie’s voice interrupted them.

“What are you guys talking about? Sounds interesting!”

She and her assistant walked over, smiling. “Discussing the script? Mind if I join you?” Her features were striking, her makeup enhancing her already glamorous appearance.

With three actresses gathered together, they naturally attracted attention.

Initially, everyone’s gaze was on Xia Chun, but after Tan Jie arrived, their attention shifted, glancing back and forth between the three women, then realizing, with surprise, that Shen Shu, despite being a newcomer, held her own against the Best Actress and the established star.

Like a Roman vase, her beauty was both striking and subtly elegant, revealing more with each glance.

“Just discussing a few lines,” Xia Chun said. “But we’re done now.” She exchanged a brief look with Shen Shu, then excused herself and left.

With Xia Chun gone, there was nothing more to say.

After a few polite exchanges, Tan Jie also left.

“Sis, why do you even bother with them?” her assistant asked as they walked away. Tan Jie had been fuming for days after the green tea pastry incident.

“What do you know?” Tan Jie retorted, glancing at her assistant. “If I didn’t talk to them, people would think we’re not on good terms.”

The assistant nodded, understanding. “You’re so thoughtful, sis. But it’s not fair to you, and besides…” Shen Shu clearly disliked her… Trying to steal her wife, what did she expect?

She kept her thoughts to herself, her words carefully chosen.

“Sis, with your looks and talent, you can have any Alpha you want. A married woman isn’t worthy of you,” she said.

Tan Jie stopped.

“I’m just not willing to give up,” she said, her voice low.

“Give up on what?” her assistant asked.

Tan Jie took a deep breath, then didn’t reply, her thoughts elsewhere.

—

After lunch in the North District, Viola drove Xu Jinnan back to the office.

Having been busy all morning, she finally had time to check her phone. Tong Jia had tagged her in the “No PDA Allowed” group chat.

Cai Ying had added her yesterday.

Tong Jia: [@Xu Jinnan CEO Xu, have you seen the trending topics? With all this publicity, the money’s rolling in! Time for another celebratory dinner!]

Cai Ying: [Seconded! I’ve been craving Australian lobster, but the restaurants here are mediocre. Xu Jinnan, cook for us!]

The rest of the messages were just their usual banter.

Xu Jinnan: [Am I your personal chef? No.]

She opened Weibo and checked the two super topics.

The giveaway post on the “Sheng Xia” super topic had been deleted, and several users, clearly there only for the free money, were complaining.

The follower count was steadily declining.

Besides the deleted giveaway, Xia Chun’s repost had also shattered their CP dreams.

In contrast, the “NanShu” super topic was thriving.

The outcome was as she had expected. After discovering that someone from Xia Chun’s studio had created the “Sheng Xia” giveaway, she had known it would end this way.

What she hadn’t expected was Xia Chun’s unprompted repost, before even seeing the information Xu Jinnan had sent her.

As for why she had initially been uncooperative, then suddenly changed her mind, only Xia Chun knew.

She had several unread private messages on Weibo, but she ignored them, a new notification from Cai Ying popping up.

Cai Ying: [@Xu Jinnan Shu Shu wants to eat too! What do you say?]

Xu Jinnan scrolled up—

Cai Ying: [@Shen Shu Shu Shu, want some shrimp?]

Tong Jia: [@Shen Shu Shu Shu, want some shrimp?]

Shen Shu: [Yes.]

Xu Jinnan chuckled, looking at the messages. [@Shen Shu Okay.]

Cai Ying: […Gross.]

Tong Jia: […Gross.]

—

Half an hour later, Xu Jinnan arrived at the office.

As she stepped out of the elevator, she didn’t see Shen Shu, but Tong Jia, seeing her through the glass wall, waved.

Then, she gestured towards someone beside her.

Viola smiled at Xu Jinnan.

“You two seem to be getting along well,” Xu Jinnan commented to Viola as she entered the office.

“We’ve chatted a couple of times. Miss Tong is quite interesting,” Viola replied.

Just then, Xu Jinnan’s phone vibrated, interrupting their conversation.

It was a call from an unknown number.

She usually didn’t answer calls from unknown numbers, but for some reason, she felt compelled to answer this one. She put the phone to her ear, not speaking.

Viola opened her office door for her.

“Is this Xu Jinnan?” a woman’s voice asked.

As Xu Jinnan closed the door behind her, muffling the sounds from outside, the woman’s voice, slightly distorted by the phone’s speaker, became clearer.

It was a young voice, soft and hesitant, the background even quieter than Xu Jinnan’s office. The silence after she spoke reminded Xu Jinnan of a frightened rabbit hiding in the bushes, its heart pounding.

Xu Jinnan stopped at the doorway. “Yes, who’s this?”

“I…”

“Where is she? Where did she go?” another voice, harsher and more demanding, interrupted.

Then, the line went dead.

Even though the first voice had been brief, Xu Jinnan recognized the second one – Xu Lian.

She walked over to her desk and sat down, her phone still in her hand.

She didn’t call back; she had a pretty good idea who it was.

Xu Lian had no children of her own, so the only person Xu Jinnan could think of was Li Laijia.

But she couldn’t be sure.

She saved the number as “Unknown.”

If it was Li Laijia, she would call again.

This call was both unexpected and a welcome surprise.

While she had already asked Chen Yue to investigate Li Laijia, there was no guarantee he would find anything useful. If Li Laijia contacted her directly, it would save a lot of trouble.

—

 

Chapter 67

Xu Jinnan changed into her slippers and entered the living room, where Cai Ying was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, engrossed in a mobile game, the volume turned down low.

A voice from the game said, “Help me!”

“…” Someone help me too, Xu Jinnan thought.

She had shared a bed with Shen Shu for the first time last night, not out of necessity, but by choice. If she slept on the floor tonight, what would Shen Shu think?

Her heightened sensitivity and erratic Alpha pheromones were a concern. Professor Qin had said that excitement, sexual arousal, deep kissing, skin contact… all of these could trigger a reaction.

Sharing a bed, it would be impossible to avoid physical contact…

And last night, despite their close proximity, she hadn’t had any adverse reactions. Should she consider herself lucky?

It seemed her fate depended on luck now.

“Come and try this,” Shen Shu’s voice called out from the kitchen, interrupting her thoughts.

“Shu Shu, ask Xu Jinnan to try it. I’m busy,” Cai Ying whined.

“Is the game that important?” Xu Jinnan asked, walking towards the kitchen island. “Such a child.”

Cai Ying glared at her, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. “Can you shut up? It’s your fault! I got distracted and died!”

Xu Jinnan glanced at her, amused by her outburst. Teasing Cai Ying was like teasing a five-year-old; it was strangely entertaining.

She had even told Shen Shu that if Cai Ying and Little Crescent Moon ever met, they would probably become best friends.

Xu Jinnan smiled faintly. “Let me try it,” she said to Shen Shu.

Before she could even finish her sentence, Shen Shu had already picked up a piece of beef, blown on it gently, and held it out to her, a purely instinctive gesture, afraid Xu Jinnan would burn her tongue.

Shen Shu offered her the chopsticks.

Xu Jinnan leaned closer, her lips parting slightly as she took the beef from Shen Shu’s chopsticks.

She chewed thoughtfully, then nodded. “It’s good.”

“Tsk tsk,” Cai Ying muttered, making a face.

As they were eating, Cai Ying walked over to the table and noticed Xu Jinnan’s feet.

“Matching couple slippers,” she commented dryly.

Xu Jinnan looked down and saw Shen Shu was wearing the pink slippers, the matching pair to her own blue ones.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she glanced at Shen Shu, who, her expression unchanged, simply sat down beside her.

“Let’s eat,” she said.

“Xu Jinnan, are you sure you just tasted the beef?” Cai Ying asked, taking a sip of her drink.

Before Xu Jinnan could reply, Shen Shu asked, “What do you mean?”

“Babe, let’s just wait for Xu Jinnan to cook next time,” Cai Ying said.

Shen Shu: “…”

Cai Ying, meeting Shen Shu’s slightly threatening gaze, placed a piece of beef in her bowl. “Why don’t you try it yourself?” She was well aware of Shen Shu’s… limitations in the kitchen, especially when it came to meat dishes. She remembered a time when, for Cai Ying’s birthday, Shen Shu had prepared a “feast.”

She couldn’t remember what they had eaten.

Only that she had spent the next two days in the hospital with food poisoning.

Shen Shu’s cooking had improved since then, but there were still occasional… mishaps.

Like now.

Shen Shu took a bite of the beef and paused, her jaw clenching.

It was tough.

And salty.

Cai Ying, not wanting to discourage her, forced a smile. “It’s edible, right, Xu Jinnan? Look how much she’s enjoying it!”

Xu Jinnan took two more pieces of beef, her expression calm. “It’s more than edible. It’s delicious,” she said, her tone sincere, as if they weren’t eating the same dish.

Throughout the meal, Xu Jinnan was the only one who ate the beef, and Shen Shu, unable to watch any longer, said softly, “Don’t force yourself if you don’t like it.”

“No, it’s really good,” Xu Jinnan insisted.

After a few bites, Cai Ying felt like she had been force-fed enough secondhand sweetness and took out her phone, opening her chat with “Teacher Han,” which was pinned at the top of her list.

Cai Ying: [Ugh, they’re making me sick with their PDA.]

A few seconds later:

Teacher Han: [Oh?]

Cai Ying: [It’s nothing. What are you doing?]

Teacher Han: [Out running errands.]

Cai Ying: [Okay, take your time.]

She took a sip of water, and her phone buzzed with a reply: [Miss me?]

A smile touched her lips, her eyes sparkling. [Yes! There’s a disgusting couple in front of me, flaunting their love.] She added a crying emoji.

There was no immediate reply, and Cai Ying, putting down her phone, heard Xu Jinnan mention Chen Bo’s name.

Something about a land deal. She didn’t pay attention, but the name reminded her of something.

“Oh, my dad mentioned a birthday banquet. Shu Shu, are you going?” The Shen family hadn’t been invited in previous years, but this year was different. Now that Shen Shu was married to Xu Jinnan, even companies like HP, almost equal in status to the Xu family, were sending them invitations.

“I’m not sure yet,” Shen Shu replied, though she was likely to attend.

“I’ll go if you go,” Cai Ying said, then added, “You should go. You should give him another slap for what he did at the hospital.” She had been there when Chen Bo had tried to drug Shen Shu with that disgusting “hangover cure.”

Xu Jinnan didn’t participate in the conversation, getting up to refill her water glass.

As Shen Shu and Cai Ying were talking, Shen Shu noticed Xu Jinnan stand up, then, catching Cai Ying’s eye, they both smiled.

“Shu Shu,” Cai Ying whispered, “it’s really salty.”

Shen Shu’s lips curved into a smile. She knew.

She wouldn’t normally find this amusing – knowing she shouldn’t laugh, yet unable to suppress the amusement bubbling up inside her.

After dinner, Xu Jinnan was about to wash the dishes when she received a phone call, and Shen Shu took the dishes to the sink.

As she was washing them, Cai Ying approached her, her voice low. “Shu Shu, are your… thighs sore?” she asked, still too embarrassed to be more direct.

She hadn’t noticed earlier, but Shen Shu’s movements had been slightly stiff.

Shen Shu, focused on the dishes, nodded. “Yes, still sore from horseback riding yesterday.”

“…” Cai Ying’s eyes widened. “Oh, right! I forgot you went horseback riding! I thought it was…”

“Thought what?” Shen Shu asked instinctively.

Cai Ying nudged her arm with her elbow, grinning suggestively, but didn’t elaborate.

Shen Shu quickly understood, rolling her eyes. “…Stop listening to Tong Jia’s nonsense.” Sore thighs, in popular culture, often had a sexual connotation. While that wasn’t the reason for her own discomfort, Cai Ying’s words had planted the thought in her mind.

She felt a strange warmth spreading through her.

—

Xu Jinnan started changing the bedsheets in the guest room, and Cai Ying joined her, then, halfway through, abandoned the task and went back to the living room to talk to Shen Shu. Despite turning twenty next year, she still had the attention span of a child, rarely persevering with anything unless it was truly important to her.

Xu Jinnan straightened the duvet, looking at the discarded sheets and remembering waking up with Shen Shu that morning.

She had actually been awake before the kiss.

To be precise, she had woken up when Shen Shu’s arm brushed against her chest.

What Shen Shu didn’t know was that after she left the room, Xu Jinnan had changed her underwear.

And washed it while she was brushing her teeth.

She exhaled slowly, her breath warm, like Shen Shu’s breath on her face that morning.

Just then, she heard Cai Ying call out from the living room, “Xu Jinnan~ no need to change the sheets for me!” Her voice was cheerful, and she grabbed her phone charger from the sofa. “I’m going on a date! I’m not staying here tonight!”

Xu Jinnan & Shen Shu: “…”

“Han Ling?” Shen Shu asked.

Cai Ying nodded. “I’m not a scumbag. Who else would it be? She’s picking me up soon. We’re going to the movies, then I’ll go straight home… Isn’t it better if I’m not here? No third wheel,” she added, seeing their strange expressions.

—

Twenty minutes later, Cai Ying stood up to leave, and since it was getting late, Shen Shu offered to walk her downstairs.

“Don’t bother. Your leg is still hurting,” Cai Ying said. “It’s just downstairs. I’ll be fine.”

Xu Jinnan, also noticing Shen Shu’s slight limp, and knowing the muscle soreness would likely worsen in the next few days, stood up. “I’ll go with her. I need to take out the trash anyway.”

As they were leaving, Cai Ying grabbed the half-peeled orange she had been eating.

—

In the elevator, Xu Jinnan glanced at the newly completed recreational area. It was deserted at this hour.

Han Ling hadn’t arrived yet, so Xu Jinnan went to take out the trash.

When she returned, Cai Ying was on the phone.

“Wait for me outside, by the stone bench. I’ll be right out,” she said, then hung up.

Xu Jinnan smiled faintly. “So secretive? Afraid we’ll judge you?”

“No,” Cai Ying replied. “I’ll introduce you when things are more… official.” It was a bit sudden, and she hadn’t told Han Ling about them yet.

Xu Jinnan, who had been teasing, seeing Cai Ying’s serious expression, chuckled. “Go on then, Miss Cai. Don’t keep your girlfriend waiting.” The word “girlfriend,” for someone newly in love, was like a sweet melody.

A smug look appeared in Cai Ying’s eyes. “You should hurry back too. Don’t keep your wife waiting,” she retorted.

—

Through the rearview mirror, Han Wenling saw an Omega approaching her black Maybach, dressed in a pale yellow hoodie, a white mini skirt, and a light-colored trench coat, her long, slender legs faintly visible.

She extinguished her cigarette and unlocked the car.

As Cai Ying got into the passenger seat, the sweet scent of lychee, mingled with the cool night air, filled the car.

Han Wenling’s gaze flickered over Cai Ying’s legs. “Aren’t you cold in that skirt?” she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“I’ll be fine. I’m not going to be outside for long. And look!” Cai Ying said, holding out a half-peeled orange. “I stole this for you.”

Han Wenling had known from their first meeting that Cai Ying was a cheerful, playful person, but she had discovered there was more to her than that.

Cai Ying possessed a certain innocence, a simple purity Han Wenling had never encountered before.

A naive optimism, a cheerful disposition, a fierce sense of justice…

It was a stark contrast to Han Wenling’s own world, and perhaps that was why, even though nothing had happened between them, she enjoyed spending time with Cai Ying.

“Stole it how?” she asked, taking the orange slice from Cai Ying’s hand, her fingers brushing against Cai Ying’s wrist, then bringing the orange to her lips and eating it, her gaze fixed on Cai Ying, intense and unwavering, like a predator’s stare.

Cai Ying’s hand twitched slightly in her grasp, then, after Han Wenling swallowed the orange, she asked, “Was it good?”

Han Wenling smiled faintly, her lips curving upwards. Did she realize how suggestive that sounded?

She released Cai Ying’s hand and reached for her vibrating phone, replying casually, “It was good.” Then, seeing the caller ID, her smile vanished, and she pressed the side button, silencing the call and putting the phone back in her pocket.

“Have you decided on a movie?” she asked, starting the car.

Cai Ying, noticing the shift in her mood, suggested a title.

They chatted normally during the drive, but Cai Ying could sense Han Wenling’s mood had soured after that phone call.

She had seemed different from the start.

Her phone rang twice more, but she ignored it, and Cai Ying, unable to contain her curiosity, asked, “Who is it? Aren’t you going to answer?”

“Family,” Han Wenling replied curtly.

Cai Ying felt a pang of disappointment. She realized she didn’t know much about Han Wenling, who rarely shared anything personal.

And she hadn’t told Han Wenling much about herself either, hadn’t even introduced her to her friends.

“Teacher Han.”

“Yes?”

“My friend, the one I was telling you about, the one with the wife… let’s have dinner together sometime, the four of us,” Cai Ying suggested, looking at Han Wenling.

Han Wenling paused, then agreed. “Sure.”

Cai Ying’s mood lifted. “My friend is amazing. You’ll be surprised when you meet her,” she said with a smile.

“Then I can’t wait,” Han Wenling replied, her gaze fixed on the road ahead, signaling a turn, seemingly handling both the conversation and the driving with ease.

—

They arrived at Wanhe Plaza.

Han Wenling got out of the car and finally answered the call she had been ignoring.

As she walked away, she reached for a cigarette, then realized she had left them in the car.

Her tone sharpened as she spoke into the phone. “You’re telling me to get close to the He heiress for my sake? Isn’t it for your own social climbing ambitions?”

“I might not like Han Wenfang, but I wouldn’t stoop to such methods to secure my position in the company. Do you really think Dad will hand over the company to me just because I marry into the He family? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’ve been your pawn my entire life. Do I even have any freedom? Have you ever seen a pawn with free will?”

After a long pause, her anger seemed to dissipate as she listened to the voice on the other end.

She let out a cold laugh. “You’re right. Born into such a heartless family, what choice do I have?” She hung up.

The autumn night was cool, the air crisp and clear.

Her Alpha father and Omega mother had divorced when she was five, her father already having been absent for a while, their constant arguments the soundtrack of her childhood.

A month after the divorce, he had brought home another Omega, already pregnant, whom he clearly adored, and after the child was born, his affection for the little girl was evident.

Han Wenling had become an unwanted presence in her own home, more superfluous than even the servants.

Her mother had told her: You have to fight for everything in this life. Those who don’t fight get nothing.

Initially, she had followed her mother’s advice.

But reality had taught her a different lesson – it didn’t matter how hard you fought if you weren’t loved.

Only the strong could control their own destiny.

And she had become strong.

Despite rumors of Han Wenfang being the favored heir, her father had increasingly relied on her, her influence within the company far exceeding her younger sister’s.

Perhaps because of her father’s recent hospital visits, her mother, sensing his declining health, had become anxious, afraid of being left with nothing.

Han Wenling closed her eyes, a wave of frustration washing over her. Then, she felt a hand on her waist.

The scent of lychee, Cai Ying’s pheromones, mingled with the cool night air, and she looked down at the small, pale hand on her waist, hearing Cai Ying’s cheerful voice. “Teacher Han, don’t be sad!”

A warmth spread through her chest, a comforting sensation unlike anything she had ever felt before.

Cai Ying’s hand lingered on her waist, then moved slightly as she stepped in front of Han Wenling, her body close, and Han Wenling instinctively raised her arm, letting Cai Ying slip beneath it.

Cai Ying looked up at her, her eyes meeting Han Wenling’s. They weren’t smiling or gentle now, but filled with a quiet sadness, a weariness that resonated with Han Wenling.

This wasn’t the Teacher Han she knew, yet it felt… right.

“Let’s not watch a movie tonight,” Cai Ying said. “You seem upset.”

“Then what?”

“Shopping!”

“…Shopping?”

Cai Ying, taking her hand, pulled her towards the mall. “Anything you want, I’ll buy it for you.”

Han Wenling chuckled, her earlier gloom lifting slightly. “Really? Even expensive things?”

Cai Ying, hearing this, mentally calculated her allowance.

How much did I have left…?

“I should… I should have enough,” she mumbled.

If not, I can always borrow some from Shu Shu.

—

When Xu Jinnan returned to the apartment, carrying the small bag of white powder, Shen Shu was sitting on the sofa, reading what looked like a new book. Xu Jinnan saw the title as she put it down – The Ferryman.

“You still have that?” Shen Shu asked, gesturing towards the bag.

Xu Jinnan took out the locked box from the closet, opened it, and placed the bag inside. “It’s still a problem. The hospital doesn’t have the equipment to analyze it,” she explained. Giving it to someone else could be dangerous.

Things were complicated enough already.

“I’ll keep it here for now and ask around.”

Shen Shu nodded, glancing at Xu Jinnan, then picked up her book again, her gaze fixed on the words on the page.

The living room was quiet, the curtains by the window swaying gently in the breeze.

Xu Jinnan coughed softly. Cai Ying’s visit, though brief, had been a rollercoaster of emotions. While she was relieved Cai Ying wasn’t staying, she couldn’t deny a faint pang of disappointment.

But mostly, she was relieved.

Shen Shu’s heat cycle was approaching, and her own pheromones were unstable, her sensitivity heightened. Any misstep could have disastrous consequences for Shen Shu.

“Get some rest,” she said softly.

“Mm,” Shen Shu replied after a moment, her voice calm.

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

Shen Shu didn’t look up.

Xu Jinnan thoughtfully closed the door behind her, and Shen Shu, hearing the click, unconsciously rubbed her fingers against the cover of her book, her nails slipping slightly on the smooth surface.

She read for a few more minutes, then stood up, walked to the door, and locked it, a sudden surge of defiance making her act impulsively.

—

The next morning, Xu Jinnan woke up with a stiff back and aching legs, the muscles sore from yesterday’s horseback riding.

Shen Shu, having been more affected, would likely be feeling it even more today.

As she was making porridge, Shen Shu emerged from her bedroom, walking slowly. “How are you feeling?” Xu Jinnan asked, concerned. Shen Shu had to wear heels for her scenes today.

“I only have two scenes today. I’ll manage,” Shen Shu replied.

She had been exercising regularly before, but had stopped since getting married.

After a quick breakfast, Xu Jinnan, busy with the North District project, simply left the apartment with Shen Shu.

The van was waiting downstairs.

As they walked down the two small steps leading to the entrance, Shen Shu winced slightly, the movement jarring her sore muscles.

Tong Jia, waiting by the van, watched them approach, noticing their stiff movements.

Shen Shu had seemed uncomfortable yesterday as well.

“Whoa,” Tong Jia said, then shook her head at Xu Jinnan, her gossipy demeanor instantly replaced by her professional agent persona as they got into the van.

Tong Jia: [CEO Xu, seriously, even if you can’t control yourself, you have to be more considerate!]

Xu Jinnan: [?]

Tong Jia: [Shu Shu has to film! How could you be so rough? How is she supposed to wear heels now?]

Tong Jia: [Her legs were trembling as she walked down the stairs!]

Xu Jinnan: […Do you know anything about horseback riding?]

Tong Jia: [Holy shit!!! That’s kinky! Is it what I’m thinking? Tell me everything!]

Xu Jinnan: “…”

Xu Jinnan glanced at the traffic light, which was about to turn green, her eye twitching slightly. So, Tong Jia didn’t know about the riding stable.

Even if she told her, with Tong Jia’s mind, she would still misinterpret it.

She decided to change the subject.

She had been meaning to do this yesterday.

Xu Jinnan: [Go find Zhou Pei at the office. She has some information about the Xia Chun super topic. Give it to Xia Chun personally.]

Xu Jinnan: [My number is in the file. Tell her to contact me if she has any questions. I’ll be waiting.]

The light turned green, and she put away her phone.

—

In the van, Tong Jia leaned against Shen Shu’s shoulder, her voice low and dreamy. “I’m suddenly appreciating CEO Xu’s beauty and dominance. She’s such a badass Alpha.”

Shen Shu turned her head, gently pushing Tong Jia away. “What?”

“CEO Xu took care of that Xia Chun super topic. Quietly and efficiently. We all know how… energetic she is in bed, but that’s not the point. Can you even walk today? I’m worried you won’t be able to stand in heels,” Tong Jia said.

Shen Shu paused, considering her words.

Finally, she simply said, “Rumors.”

Chapter 66 p2

The bedside lamp clicked off, plunging the room into darkness.

Xu Jinnan lay awake, her eyes open, staring at the ceiling, the same white ceiling with the same floral pattern as in the guest room.

An ordinary, unremarkable pattern.

After a while, she felt Shen Shu turn over, from her side to her back.

She couldn’t see her clearly in the darkness, but the image of Shen Shu’s face, the elegant curve of her profile, was vivid in her mind.

She knew Shen Shu was only here because she was worried about her, wanting to comfort her.

“I don’t know what you saw,” Shen Shu’s soft voice said, breaking the silence, “but it’s okay. The world is a strange place.”

“Xu Jinnan, it’s okay.”

“Is everything really okay?” Xu Jinnan asked, turning to her.

“Yes, everything is okay,” Shen Shu replied, their bodies separated by a small distance, the blankets a barrier between them, yet they could feel each other’s warm breath.

Like a feather brushing against their skin, a tingling sensation.

“Didn’t I tell you? You’re here for me, and I’m here for you. So, everything is okay,” Shen Shu said softly.

The world outside was silent, the rain having stopped.

Just like the weather, unpredictable, the bright sunshine of the day replaced by the darkness of the night, and then the rain.

“Are you still sad?” Shen Shu asked.

She had been sad when she returned, not because of the strange events, or the Xu family, but because of…

“No,” Xu Jinnan replied. “After Teacher Shen’s sacrifice, how can I still be sad?”

Shen Shu chuckled softly.

“Then should I sacrifice a little more?”

“What do you mean?” Xu Jinnan asked instinctively.

Shen Shu’s hand reached out from under the covers and gently touched Xu Jinnan’s, her voice like a gentle caress, a sweet temptation. “Hold my hand.”

Xu Jinnan suspected Shen Shu had been taking lessons in seduction.

She slipped her hand out from under the covers and took Shen Shu’s hand, turning it over and lacing their fingers together, their palms touching.

“Good night, Teacher Xu,” Shen Shu whispered.

“Good night, Teacher Shen,” Xu Jinnan replied, mimicking her tone.

Shen Shu’s lips curved into a faint smile, her attention focused on their joined hands.

Her own hands were well-cared for, beautiful for an Omega, but compared to Xu Jinnan’s, they seemed almost… ordinary.

Xu Jinnan’s hands were soft and delicate, her fingers long and slender.

Jade fingers, a single touch can melt your heart – she had heard that description of Xu Jinnan before and had dismissed it as mere flirtation.

Now, she understood.

Shen Shu’s fingers unconsciously brushed against Xu Jinnan’s, the movement barely perceptible, yet she felt Xu Jinnan’s hand tense slightly.

Her heart skipped a beat.

She did it again, her fingers gently caressing Xu Jinnan’s palm.

Xu Jinnan’s fingers tightened instinctively.

“Why are you moving your hand?” Shen Shu asked.

“Naughty…” Xu Jinnan began, then corrected herself. “Even fairies shouldn’t make false accusations. Who moved their hand?”

Shen Shu bit her lip, a playful glint in her eyes.

“You did,” she whispered.

“I didn’t.”

As they continued their playful banter, Xu Jinnan’s grip tightened slightly, like a cat gently holding onto a toy.

“Be careful, or you won’t be able to get up tomorrow. Go to sleep,” she murmured, her voice slightly husky.

Shen Shu’s soft touch, her playful tone, was stirring something within her.

But she couldn’t.

Not yet. Besides the rut, she didn’t know what other surprises this body held.

In the quiet room, their breathing gradually evened out.

The exhaustion of the day faded as they drifted off to sleep, their dreams peaceful and undisturbed.

—

Shen Shu woke up feeling a weight on her legs, her arm pinned beneath her, something warm and solid pressed against her back.

The familiar scent of Xu Jinnan’s pheromones and her warm breath on her forehead made her open her eyes.

Xu Jinnan’s pale neck was inches from her face, and Shen Shu’s breath hitched. She was nestled in Xu Jinnan’s arms, her own arm bent awkwardly beneath her, their bodies not quite touching, but their legs intertwined.

Xu Jinnan wasn’t wearing her pajamas, just her slip dress, the straps still intact.

But as Shen Shu’s gaze drifted downwards, her face flushed.

The warmth of Xu Jinnan’s body and the scent of her pheromones made her skin tingle, and she instinctively shifted slightly, eliciting a soft groan from Xu Jinnan.

The sound, low and husky, sent a shiver down Shen Shu’s spine, her heart pounding.

She froze, suddenly remembering crawling into Xu Jinnan’s bed last night, the memory of their close proximity, the warmth of her breath on her skin, making her blush even deeper.

She looked away, her gaze lingering on Xu Jinnan’s neck, then slowly moving upwards…

Xu Jinnan was fast asleep, her breathing even and undisturbed, except for that one soft moan.

Shen Shu’s forehead brushed against Xu Jinnan’s chin as she looked at her face.

Xu Jinnan was a restless sleeper, but her sleeping face was surprisingly serene, almost childlike.

Childlike.

The word seemed completely at odds with Xu Jinnan’s usual demeanor.

But this was the real Xu Jinnan, unguarded and vulnerable.

Shen Shu’s gaze lingered on her closed eyes, then traced the delicate line of her nose, finally resting on her lips.

For some reason, they always looked softer and more inviting in the morning, like rose petals, tempting her to…

Shen Shu’s lips parted slightly.

She glanced at Xu Jinnan’s closed eyes, then, her gaze returning to her lips, she leaned in and gently kissed them.

As she pulled away, she felt Xu Jinnan’s breath hitch, her eyes fluttering open, their depths dark and bloodshot.

Xu Jinnan blinked, her gaze clearing.

Did I crawl into her bed again?

She glanced down, but it seemed to be her own blanket.

But she was definitely holding Shen Shu…

A few seconds of silence followed.

“…Morning?” Xu Jinnan said, her voice husky, her hand still holding Shen Shu’s.

Shen Shu, flustered by her own boldness, instinctively pulled away, her face burning.

“Time to get up,” she said, her voice calm, though her cheeks were still flushed.

Xu Jinnan: “…Oh, okay.”

As Shen Shu left the room, taking the blanket with her, Xu Jinnan felt a sudden chill, her lips tingling, her earlobes warm.

—

It was 9 a.m.

Xu Jinnan had an appointment with Professor Qin, so she didn’t go with Shen Shu.

Tong Jia had arrived early in the van to pick Shen Shu up, who had fallen asleep during the drive.

As the car stopped at a red light, Shen Shu woke up.

“Didn’t sleep well?” Tong Jia asked, glancing at her.

Shen Shu nodded. “Not really.”

“Oh~” Tong Jia said, drawing out the word, then lowered her voice. “Teacher Xu doesn’t look well either. You two should pace yourselves.”

Normally, Shen Shu wouldn’t respond to such teasing, but today, she surprised Tong Jia by retorting, “Are you jealous?”

Tong Jia: “…?”

“Jealous as hell! Happy now? Little Cai was right. You disgusting lovebirds,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Actually, Little Cai was bragging about Teacher Han last night, and I almost couldn’t sleep. You’re both disgusting lovebirds.”

Shen Shu, amused by her tone, smiled faintly and looked out the window, her gaze stopping on a nearby cafe.

As the car drove past, she looked back.

“What’s wrong?” Tong Jia asked.

“Zhou Pei.”

“Oh, I’ve been seeing Viola more often than her lately,” Tong Jia said, noticing Shen Shu’s strange expression. “Why are you looking at her like that?”

Shen Shu shook her head.

She wasn’t sure if she had seen correctly.

The person sitting opposite Zhou Pei had looked like… Xu Li.

Perhaps she had been mistaken.

—

Meanwhile, Xu Jinnan had arrived at the hospital and was undergoing a full check-up, as instructed by Professor Qin.

“You said you would destroy all my brain scans along with the other reports. But you must have seen them, right?” she asked. Professor Qin had said Lu Yun had requested the reports be destroyed.

She was worried there might be something else wrong with her, some other underlying condition or mental illness. While she hadn’t experienced any further episodes since arriving in this world, she was still concerned.

Professor Qin paused, then nodded. “Of course.”

“Was there anything unusual?”

“If there was, I would have told you,” he replied, puzzled.

“Do you have all my records here?”

“No, I don’t have access to everything. Only what you’ve authorized,” he said with a smile.

After all, this was the Xu family’s hospital, and he was just an employee. He couldn’t access records without authorization, just like other doctors couldn’t access his patients’ records without his consent.

Xu Jinnan understood. She would have to access her complete medical history.

“If you authorize me, I can access everything, but it might take a day or two,” he said.

Xu Jinnan nodded.

A few minutes later, her test results were ready, and Professor Qin, after reviewing them, frowned. “Strange. Your Alpha pheromone levels are very high. Have you noticed anything unusual lately? They should have stabilized by now…”

Xu Jinnan touched her scent gland. “They were stable for a while, but lately, I’ve been feeling it again, the same tingling sensation, but not as intense.” It was within a tolerable range.

But it made her anxious.

Professor Qin pondered. “It’s rare for a secondary differentiator’s pheromone levels to remain unstable for so long. We’ll run another test in a few days. Just monitor your symptoms for now.”

“Okay,” Xu Jinnan replied, then paused. “It seems to be more noticeable when I’m around my wife.”

“Try to limit your contact with her and see if it improves. Normally, at this stage, increased contact should help to stabilize your pheromones, but your case is unusual… Unstable pheromones increase the risk of a rut. Just be careful for the next few days,” Professor Qin advised.

Xu Jinnan didn’t say anything more, leaving the hospital and going straight to the North District, spending the rest of the day there with Viola, the events of last night temporarily forgotten.

But during a break, she gave Chen Yue a list of names to investigate – the ones from the photo, the ones listed alongside Lu Yun.

With names, there was a chance of finding something. She now had a general idea of what the Xu family was doing, but since the original Xu Jinnan had been discovered investigating them, she had to be more discreet, using indirect methods.

She suddenly remembered Li Laijia.

She could also be a breakthrough. She added her name to the list for Chen Yue.

—

It was past 7 p.m. when she finally left the North District, exhausted.

Shen Shu had messaged her, saying she had finished filming early and was waiting for her to have dinner together.

As she drove home, she thought about Professor Qin’s advice to limit their contact… Last night had been an exception; Shen Shu wouldn’t be coming to her room tonight. It was best to sleep in separate rooms for the next few days.

But then, she remembered the pleasant feeling of waking up beside Shen Shu.

As she opened the apartment door, she heard Cai Ying’s cheerful voice.

“Xu Jinnan! I’m here!”

Xu Jinnan: “…”

Shen Shu emerged from the kitchen, her voice calm. “She’s staying over tonight,” she said, the same way she always did when Cai Ying visited.

Xu Jinnan: “…Alright.”

Chapter 66 p1

Close relative.

The words sent a chill down Xu Jinnan’s spine.

While this world’s setting was similar to her original world, with the exception of the ABO dynamics, the basic principles of genetics remained the same.

Close relatives shared too many similar genes, limiting genetic diversity in their offspring and increasing the risk of inheriting harmful recessive traits.

Incestuous relationships significantly increased the risk of genetic disorders.

This could explain the original Xu Jinnan’s mental instability, her differentiation defect, even her violent tendencies.

“They’re insane,” Xu Jinnan muttered, her worldview crumbling. She suddenly remembered something from the original Xu Jinnan’s memories.

Xu Lian’s words to Xu Tao echoed in her mind: “We don’t even know if she’s an Alpha yet, let alone an S-class. If she turns out to be an Omega… then your precious daughter is a failure.” She had found those words strangely ominous, like they were trying to breed a superior Alpha…

And now, looking at the list, all the potential mates were S-class.

In this world, Alphas represented only 5% of the population, Omegas 10%, the rest Betas.

And even among Alphas and Omegas, S-class individuals were incredibly rare.

Based on the compatibility list, most of the matches were between 50% and 60%.

Lu Yun was the only one with a compatibility level above 90%.

So… the original Xu Jinnan had likely been an experiment – an attempt to breed a pure, superior Alpha through incest.

And Xu Lian’s words had been a chilling prophecy; the original Xu Jinnan had indeed become a failure…

A dysfunctional waste.

—

It was almost midnight. Xu Jinnan’s car was parked in a secluded area, the only light coming from a dim streetlamp and a few flickering ground lights, like fireflies about to be extinguished.

The faint glow was like the eyes of the underworld peering into the world of the living.

She still had another photo, and after taking a few minutes to process the first one, she slowly pulled it out.

The date on the second photo was twenty-two years ago, five years after Xu Tao and Lu Yun’s marriage.

This list was shorter, with fewer names.

Carriers of S-class Omega Genes, Total 4:

Four entries followed, labeled X1, X2, X3, and X4, like products, not people.

Their information was just as detailed as before, but instead of a compatibility level, each entry had an “S-class Omega Differentiation Probability.”

Ranked from lowest to highest, X4 had the highest probability – 95%. Exceptional.

Xu Jinnan’s gaze lingered on X4’s information. Birthdate: 1121.

Shen Shu’s beautiful face flashed through her mind, her heart skipping a beat before quickly returning to its normal rhythm.

What am I thinking? It’s just a coincidence. It can’t be.

She refocused on the photo. If the original Xu Jinnan had been an experiment, a product of incest, what about these children?

She remembered the little girl in the courtyard, the one Xu Lian had been abusing… Xu Lian had said the girl was meant for Xu Tao’s branch of the family, originally intended for the original Xu Jinnan.

Meaning, for some reason, the Xu family had stopped choosing mates from within the family, starting with the original Xu Jinnan.

Xu Lian’s mocking words to Xu Tao echoed in her mind: “Mother has so much faith in your genes, already making plans for her future.”

A chilling thought occurred to her, a thought both absurd and plausible.

There weren’t many S-class Alphas or Omegas in the Xu family. Out of the old matriarch’s three children, only Xu Tao was an S-class Alpha.

Perhaps, due to the scarcity of high-ranking Omegas within the family, they had found these children, carriers of S-class Omega genes, as potential mates?

The thought made her blood run cold.

And what had happened to them? The original Xu Jinnan had never mentioned X4. Where had she gone?

What had happened to these children?

Her hands trembled as she put the photos away, her mind racing, then going blank, overwhelmed by the implications.

She sat in the car for half an hour, staring out at the deserted road, raindrops starting to splatter against the windshield, blurring the already dim landscape.

The asphalt road, glistening with moisture, seemed to stretch endlessly into the darkness, threatening to swallow her whole.

A distant light flickered, and her phone vibrated, breaking the silence. She looked at the caller ID.

Shen Shu.

Shen Shu: [Not coming home tonight?]

Xu Jinnan stared at Shen Shu’s profile picture for a moment, then typed a reply: [I’ll be back. Go to sleep.]

After sending the message, she started the car.

Two simple photos, yet they held a weight heavier than any book, secrets she needed time to process.

Especially the fact that she was in the body of a child born from an incestuous relationship.

It meant she could face unforeseen health risks, both physical and mental…

She felt a deep sadness, a profound sense of despair.

If she had known this earlier, she wouldn’t have pursued Shen Shu. She would have stayed away…

Perhaps then, they wouldn’t be living together, sharing meals, commuting together, hugging, kissing…

Horseback riding.

Receiving concerned messages from Shen Shu.

Her heart ached, a heavy, suffocating feeling.

—

At 2 a.m., she parked in her designated spot at Xingcheng International, turned off the engine, and put the photos away before getting out of the car.

It was drizzling, but she didn’t bother with an umbrella.

She didn’t want to.

The night air was cool, and she pulled her jacket tighter around her, her posture still proud and confident, her usual aura of authority undiminished.

She opened the apartment door.

The dim light in the hallway felt warm and welcoming, dispelling the chill of the night.

She looked up and saw Shen Shu’s bedroom door slightly ajar.

She quietly changed into her slippers, the light blue ones they had bought together, the matching pink ones still in the shoe rack.

She heard soft footsteps from Shen Shu’s room and, composing herself, looked up, a smile playing on her lips. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

Shen Shu stood at the doorway, glancing at the damp strands of hair clinging to Xu Jinnan’s forehead. “Waiting for you,” she replied without hesitation.

In the soft, almost ethereal light, Shen Shu, wearing her pink strawberry pajamas, her long, dark hair loose and flowing, looked unusually gentle.

Xu Jinnan walked over and instinctively smoothed a stray strand of hair from Shen Shu’s forehead, the familiar scent of her pheromones filling her senses.

She paused, then pulled her hand away.

“Weren’t you tired from horseback riding?” she asked. “It’s late. Go to sleep.”

Shen Shu tilted her head back slightly, meeting Xu Jinnan’s gaze.

“What’s wrong?”

Chen Yue must have delivered something.

Xu Jinnan’s heart was heavy. She wanted to talk, to share the burden of the day’s discoveries, the shocking revelations, but she wasn’t ready yet.

“Shu Shu, I’m tired,” she said softly.

Shen Shu’s eyes, usually cool and distant, held a warmth that surprised Xu Jinnan. She didn’t ask any further questions.

She simply leaned closer, her arms gently circling Xu Jinnan’s waist.

Xu Jinnan’s body stiffened, her heart skipping a beat, then she remembered her damp clothes. “I’m cold. I got rained on,” she said, gently pulling Shen Shu’s arms away.

Shen Shu’s grip tightened slightly. “Then you should use an umbrella next time,” she murmured, her face close to Xu Jinnan’s ear, her voice like a soothing balm.

Xu Jinnan couldn’t resist.

“It’s okay,” Shen Shu whispered. “Everything will be okay. Do you understand?” The last sentence, though soft, held a certain firmness, a quiet strength.

“Okay,” Xu Jinnan replied, her voice a mixture of amusement and exhaustion.

The only lights on were the dim ones in the hallway and Shen Shu’s bedroom, the soft patter of rain against the windows creating a peaceful, almost dreamlike atmosphere.

Shen Shu held her for a moment longer, then slowly released her, her gaze lingering on Xu Jinnan’s troubled expression. “Go take a shower, then get some rest,” she said softly.

“Okay.”

Only then did Xu Jinnan’s heart begin to calm down, the earlier turmoil subsiding slightly.

She went to the bathroom, the water hotter than usual, perhaps because of the cooler night air.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Shen Shu’s bedroom door was closed.

Exhausted after the long day, she climbed into bed, trying to push all thoughts aside.

She closed her eyes, and a few minutes later, a soft knock came at the door.

She hadn’t locked it since moving in. She turned on the bedside lamp and called out, “Come in.”

She squinted, then, seeing the person at the doorway, paused. Shen Shu was holding a blanket. She closed the door behind her without looking at Xu Jinnan.

“…Shu Shu?”

Shen Shu walked over to the bed. “Move over,” she said.

Xu Jinnan: “…You…”

She was stunned, her words catching in her throat, a sudden shyness washing over her.

She was still capable of feeling self-conscious, even now.

Shen Shu repeated, her voice calm, “Move over.”

Xu Jinnan, her mouth slightly agape, shifted to the side, making space on the bed. “…Are you sleeping here?”

Shen Shu placed the blanket on the bed. “Where else would I sleep? On the floor?”

“…That’s not what I meant,” Xu Jinnan said, the familiar sweet scent of Shen Shu’s pheromones filling the air as the blanket settled on the bed.

She paused. “Why are you suddenly…”

“Don’t you like it?” Shen Shu asked, her tone serious, yet with a hint of playful challenge.

Xu Jinnan: “…”

Shen Shu’s ability to deliver such suggestive lines with a straight face was both frustrating and endearing.

Even though she knew what Shen Shu meant, she couldn’t quite believe it.

“It’s not that,” she replied. Which normal woman wouldn’t like this?

But it was so unexpected.

As Shen Shu shifted closer, Xu Jinnan instinctively moved her own blanket to the side, making space for her.

Shen Shu sat down on the bed, pulling the blanket over her legs, then snuggling deeper into the covers.

“Xu Jinnan.”

“Yes?”

Xu Jinnan looked at her, noticing the faint redness of her earlobes in the soft light. “Turn off the lights. It’s time to sleep,” Shen Shu said softly.

—

 

Chapter 65

Hearing Xu Jinnan approach, Shen Shu looked up, her slender fingers wrapped around the riding crop. “Done talking?” she asked.

Xu Jinnan nodded, sitting down beside her and taking a sip of water from the bottle on the table. She glanced at the riding crop in Shen Shu’s hand.

“What’s so interesting about that?”

Shen Shu put down the crop. “The braiding is quite intricate, don’t you think?” she said, her voice calm.

Xu Jinnan hadn’t looked closely before, but now, she examined the leather handle, the intricate pattern woven into the leather, like tiny, sculpted flowers.

“It is quite nice,” she agreed. “Do you want to take it home with you?”

“…Take it home? What for?” Shen Shu asked, pausing slightly between the two questions, then glancing at Xu Jinnan.

Xu Jinnan had simply been making conversation, but Shen Shu’s look made her pause. “…As a souvenir?” she suggested. Just then, they heard footsteps approaching.

The door was open, and the stable manager stood at the entrance, smiling. “Miss Xu, Miss Shen, afternoon tea is ready. Would you like to have it inside, or outside?”

Xu Jinnan, having been outside earlier, preferred the fresh air.

Shen Shu didn’t have a preference.

They sat down at a table under a large parasol, a selection of delicate pastries and cakes arranged in front of them. Xu Jinnan offered Shen Shu a small mousse cake topped with a strawberry.

The late afternoon sun was gentle, the breeze carrying the scent of freshly cut grass, creating the illusion of being in a vast meadow.

Xu Jinnan leaned back in her chair, her legs crossed, scrolling through messages on her phone.

She looked up to see Shen Shu taking a bite of the cake. Shen Shu usually wore minimal makeup, and today, she wasn’t wearing any lipstick, just a light lip balm, but her lips looked unusually red.

Was it from the kiss?

The thought made Xu Jinnan’s breath hitch, and she frowned slightly, touching her scent gland.

The familiar tingling sensation returned.

She hadn’t had this reaction during their past two encounters and had assumed it was subsiding.

“Do you want some?” Shen Shu asked, looking up.

Xu Jinnan, startled, shook her head. “You have it.”

Shen Shu took the strawberry from the cake and held it up to Xu Jinnan’s lips. “Open up.”

Xu Jinnan paused, looking at the strawberry, a smile playing on her lips, then leaned forward and took a bite, her teeth gently grazing the fork.

Shen Shu felt the light touch.

“Mm, sweet,” Xu Jinnan murmured.

Shen Shu pulled the fork away, gesturing towards the other pastries. “Then have some,” she said.

Xu Jinnan took a small bite of a mango cheesecake. It was fine, but not as good as the strawberry mousse cake.

Or perhaps she was too distracted by the tingling in her scent gland to appreciate it.

Professor Qin had reminded her to schedule a check-up, which she had been putting off. She decided to make an appointment.

She took out her phone and sent him a message.

—

After resting for a while, Xu Jinnan asked if Shen Shu wanted to ride again, and Shen Shu agreed.

This time, Xu Jinnan led the horse, walking beside her at a leisurely pace.

“You’re still a beginner. I can’t let you ride alone yet,” she said. “It’s not far. We can come back anytime.”

“I’m not in a hurry,” Shen Shu replied, looking down at Xu Jinnan, who was wearing a black riding helmet, her face partially obscured, a few strands of her light brown hair escaping and brushing against her cheek. Xu Jinnan tucked them behind her ear.

“No, you’re not,” she said with a smile.

—

In the distance, Chen Bo sat on the second floor of the resting area, two attractive Omegas beside him. He glanced at Han Wenfang, who was standing by the railing, then tossed his cards onto the table. “What are you looking at? Are you still playing or not?”

“Is Texas Hold’em any fun with just two people?” Han Wenfang retorted, not turning around.

Chen Bo released the Omega he had been holding. “It’s fucking boring. Ever since Yin Xue and Song Ronghui left… no, ever since Nan-jie settled down, life has been so dull.”

Hearing Yin Xue’s name, Han Wenfang said, “I almost forgot about her. Good thing I cut ties early. Otherwise, I might have ended up like Song Ronghui, dragged down by that woman.”

Chen Bo chuckled. “Please. You and your sister are the same. As if you would let yourself be dragged down by anyone. You Han family members are all the same, always avoiding trouble.” He remembered when Yin Xue had tried to seduce Han Wenfang, who had initially been receptive, then, upon learning about her connection to Xu Jinnan, had quickly retreated, afraid of getting involved.

Han Wenling, unlike her younger sister, was more discerning, not interested in just any woman, and never associating with their crowd.

“Speaking of which, is it you or your sister who’s getting engaged to the He family heiress? I heard rumors from my father,” Chen Bo asked, changing the subject.

Han Wenfang frowned. “I’m not some kind of commodity to be traded,” she said coldly.

“So it’s true?” Chen Bo asked, his interest piqued, walking over and putting an arm around her shoulder. “Tell me more!”

“There’s nothing to tell. Her mother wants to find her a suitable husband, a strategic alliance. Those two are ambitious. But unfortunately for them…” Han Wenfang’s gaze drifted towards two figures in the distance. “She’s not Dad’s favorite. Does she really think she can secure her position in the Han family by marrying well?”

As she spoke, Chen Bo dismissed the two Omegas.

He was about to reply when he followed her gaze and saw Xu Jinnan leading a white horse, his eyes widening. “Holy shit, is that Nan-jie? I’m not seeing things, am I? She’s leading a horse?”

Han Wenfang offered him a cigarette, lighting one for herself as well, a look of disbelief on her face. “Is she serious?”

“My Nan-jie is the best,” Chen Bo said.

Han Wenfang looked at him, thinking, He’s an idiot.

Was Xu Jinnan seriously leading a horse? Wasn’t she embarrassed?

—

“You should rest. Let someone else do this,” Shen Shu said.

Xu Jinnan looked up. “I’m fine. I haven’t exercised in a while. This is good exercise,” she replied.

Shen Shu didn’t argue, but her gaze lingered on Xu Jinnan’s lower back, then instinctively drifted downwards… Xu Jinnan’s figure was undeniably attractive, her backside perfectly rounded, the tight black breeches accentuating her curves.

Her gaze was unmistakable, and Xu Jinnan, sensing it, caught her eye, a playful smile on her lips. “Enjoying the view?” she asked, her voice teasing.

Shen Shu: “…Nothing’s stopping me from looking.” Her voice was soft, but Xu Jinnan still heard it.

Xu Jinnan, amused, leaned closer. “Then tell me, what are you looking at?”

“Wherever I want,” Shen Shu retorted calmly.

Their playful banter continued, neither of them backing down, until Xu Jinnan, as usual, relented.

“Fine,” she said with a smile, finding Shen Shu’s defiance endearing. “I can’t exactly blindfold you, can I?” Then, she imagined doing just that, the image flashing through her mind before she quickly pushed it aside.

A faint smile touched Shen Shu’s lips.

Xu Jinnan’s willingness to yield sometimes made her feel like she could be more open, more playful, more herself. Anything seemed possible around Xu Jinnan.

—

Twenty minutes later, Shen Shu insisted Xu Jinnan take a break, finding a Beta riding instructor to lead her horse. Xu Jinnan didn’t argue, watching from under a parasol.

Chen Bo, seeing her alone, approached her.

He asked about his father’s birthday banquet next week, and Xu Jinnan agreed to attend. It was a major event for the Chen family, and most of North City’s business elite would be there, including Xu Tao and Lu Yun.

“My old man keeps comparing me to you,” Chen Bo said, lighting a cigarette. “He’ll be thrilled to see you there.”

After chatting for a while, he suddenly asked, “Oh, right, Nan-jie, you’re not going to bother with Han Hui anymore, are you?”

“Why?”

“The Han family will be there too, including Han Hui. Just giving you a heads-up,” he explained.

Xu Jinnan looked at him silently.

The hotel incident had been proven unrelated to Han Hui; she wasn’t going to hold a grudge. She wasn’t unreasonable.

“Of course not. Nan-jie is the most reasonable person I know,” Chen Bo said, flattering her. He received a call and excused himself, then, as he was leaving, asked, “Nan-jie, is that guy I recommended working out for you?”

Just then, Shen Shu, riding the white horse, approached, and Xu Jinnan, her gaze fixed on her, didn’t reply.

Chen Bo, understanding instantly, said, “I didn’t ask anything. I don’t know anything,” then quickly left.

As Shen Shu’s horse approached, she dismounted without assistance, and Xu Jinnan, stepping forward, instinctively placed a hand on her waist to steady her.

Feeling the warmth of her skin, she asked, “Did you work up a sweat?”

Shen Shu took off her gloves, relieved to be back on solid ground. “Not really. What time is it?” she asked. She hadn’t realized how tense she had been until someone else was leading the horse.

“5 p.m.,” Xu Jinnan replied. “Want to eat here before we go? The food looks decent.”

“Sure,” Shen Shu agreed.

They ordered two Western dishes, which looked appetizing, but Shen Shu still preferred Xu Jinnan’s cooking.

“Let’s eat at home next time,” she said, taking a sip of lemonade.

Xu Jinnan, glancing at the uneaten food on Shen Shu’s plate, asked, “Is it not good?”

“It’s not as good as yours,” Shen Shu replied.

Xu Jinnan felt a surge of satisfaction. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it for you when we get back,” she said with a smile.

Shen Shu looked at her, a thoughtful expression on her face.

Xu Jinnan took a bite of steak, chewing slowly. “Miss Shen, don’t stare at me while I’m eating,” she said. It was a little unnerving.

Shen Shu blinked slowly, then picked up her knife and fork, her voice calm. “Why not?”

Xu Jinnan paused, wondering if Shen Shu had missed the innuendo.

“Why not?” Shen Shu repeated.

Xu Jinnan, realizing she hadn’t understood, smiled faintly. “Go ahead,” she said.

Shen Shu took a bite of steak, but still didn’t finish her meal, and Xu Jinnan, not wanting her to force herself, ate the rest.

—

As they left the restaurant, the sun had already set, the sky a dim, dusky orange.

It was almost 7 p.m.

The manager saw them to the door, handing Xu Jinnan a long, black box, elegantly wrapped.

Then, remembering something, Xu Jinnan turned back to talk to the manager, telling Shen Shu to wait in the car.

Shen Shu walked towards the car, the parking lot almost empty, only a few luxury cars remaining. The sound of her footsteps was muffled by her sneakers.

The silence was unsettling.

She thought she heard footsteps behind her.

Her scalp prickled, and she quickly turned around… but there was no one there. The brightly lit restaurant was a short distance away, the scent of freshly cut grass still lingering in the air.

She relaxed slightly, then, as she reached for the car door, that feeling of being watched returned.

This time, she didn’t turn around, quickly unlocking the car and getting inside, locking the doors behind her.

Then, through the window, she saw Xu Jinnan walking towards her from the restaurant.

—

As Xu Jinnan got into the car, she noticed Shen Shu’s pale face and asked if she was okay.

“I’m a little… on edge lately. I keep feeling like someone’s following me,” Shen Shu replied. It wasn’t the first time she had felt this way, but she had never found anyone, and Tong Jia had even checked the surveillance footage last time, but there had been nothing suspicious.

Xu Jinnan frowned, her gaze scanning their surroundings. “Sometimes, your instincts are the most accurate. Don’t go anywhere alone. Have Tong Jia or Xinxin accompany you.”

Shen Shu hadn’t been alone much since starting filming, but seeing Xu Jinnan’s worried expression, she said, “They have their own work. They can’t be with me 24/7.”

Xu Jinnan looked away from the window. “Just during the day. I’ll be with you at night,” she said without thinking.

Shen Shu looked at her. “Really?”

Xu Jinnan started the car, then, after a moment of thought, said, “If I’m not around, lock your doors and have Tong Jia come upstairs with you.” She had heard about obsessive fans, the kind who stalked celebrities.

With Shen Shu’s rising popularity, it was a possibility.

The thought made her expression darken.

“Why wouldn’t you be around?” Shen Shu asked.

“Huh?”

Xu Jinnan, caught off guard by the question, paused. “I mean, if I’m not around.”

“So, Teacher Xu might not be coming home at night?” Shen Shu asked, a playful lilt in her voice.

Xu Jinnan: “…?” Is that what she’s focused on?

She considered it, a smile playing on her lips. “It’s possible,” she replied, playing along.

She waited for a response, but Shen Shu simply looked out the window, seemingly uninterested in continuing the conversation.

Xu Jinnan, giving up, changed the subject. “What did the manager give you?”

“I’ll open it when I get home,” Shen Shu replied.

“Aren’t you curious? He said it was for you.”

“No.”

One-word answers now, huh?

Xu Jinnan sighed softly. “Come on, sis, let’s see it. I’m curious,” she said, her voice coaxing.

Shen Shu’s ear tingled at the endearment.

It was Xu Jinnan’s normal voice, but lowered slightly, and Shen Shu, surprised, detected a hint of… flirtation.

And she found it strangely endearing.

The box, small and rectangular, had been presented with a serious, almost reverent expression.

Shen Shu untied the ribbon and opened it.

She froze.

“What is it?” Xu Jinnan asked, turning to look, then chuckled. “No wonder the manager said you would like it. He must have overheard our conversation and thought…” She paused, deliberately leaving the sentence unfinished, wanting to dispel the awkwardness from earlier.

“Thought what?” Shen Shu asked instinctively, then, realizing what she had said, looked at Xu Jinnan, a playful glint in her eyes. “You better watch out,” she said, mimicking Xu Jinnan’s teasing tone. She took the riding crop from the box, twirling it between her fingers, then lightly tapped it against the leather car seat.

The soft thud against the leather, strangely reminiscent of the sound of flesh against flesh, made Xu Jinnan’s heart skip a beat.

“You might end up on the receiving end of this,” Shen Shu finished, her voice calm.

Xu Jinnan: “…”

She realized they needed to communicate more effectively.

She had simply been about to say, …that you had a… unique hobby.

She hadn’t expected such a suggestive comment from Shen Shu.

She couldn’t respond to that.

—

As they approached Shen Shu’s apartment, Cai Ying sent a message in the group chat, asking what they were doing, along with a funny video.

Shen Shu replied that they were just returning from the riding stable.

Cai Ying: [How was it?! Was it fun?]

Shen Shu, remembering the kiss on horseback, her lips suddenly feeling dry, looked down at her phone as Xu Jinnan locked the car doors.

Shen Shu: [Yes, it was fun.]

Cai Ying: [Did you see my little pony?]

Shen Shu: [Yes, it’s adorable.]

Xu Jinnan, walking over to Shen Shu’s side, also took out her phone. [Small and cute, just like you.]

Cai Ying: [? Are you calling me short? How am I short? Explain yourself! Do you have a conscience? Give me back my VIP card!]

Cai Ying: [@Xu Jinnan You ungrateful, backstabbing, two-faced, opportunistic, treacherous woman!]

Xu Jinnan: [… facepalm emoji]

Xu Jinnan chuckled. “This child has quite the vocabulary.”

Shen Shu glanced at her. “You’re a child too,” she retorted.

Xu Jinnan: “?”

Excuse me?

—

Upstairs, Xu Jinnan mentioned Chen Bo’s birthday banquet.

“The Cai family usually attends as well,” she said, closing the door.

“Cai Ying won’t be going. She dislikes these kinds of events, just like me,” Shen Shu replied, taking off her shoes, her hand briefly resting on her knee as she bent down.

Xu Jinnan, noticing her slight wince as she changed her shoes, asked, “Are your legs sore?”

“A little,” Shen Shu admitted. She had started feeling it after dismounting, her thighs slightly achy.

“It’s probably from riding for so long. It might be worse tomorrow. A hot bath will help,” Xu Jinnan said.

Shen Shu nodded. “Don’t you feel it too?”

“I do,” Xu Jinnan admitted.

This body wasn’t used to exercise, especially horseback riding, and she had been tense the entire time, focusing on controlling the horse and making sure Shen Shu was comfortable.

Her legs were also sore, but not as much as Shen Shu’s, who was a beginner.

Xu Jinnan told Shen Shu to shower first, then sat down on the sofa, catching up on messages and waiting.

It was 9 p.m.

Chen Yue still hadn’t called, and the memory of Wang Zheng disappearing made her slightly anxious.

She could still hear occasional noises from outside, and the distant hum of traffic. She looked out the window at the bright neon lights of the city, one of them suddenly flickering and going out.

Her phone vibrated in her hand.

—

Shen Shu had just finished her shower and turned off the water when she heard Xu Jinnan’s voice from outside the bathroom.

“Shu Shu, I have to go out for a bit. Get some rest,” she said.

Shen Shu frowned slightly. “Where are you going?”

“To meet Chen Yue. I might be late. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow,” Xu Jinnan replied.

Shen Shu got dressed, the living room lights still on. Xu Jinnan had told her she had asked Chen Yue to continue searching for Wang Zheng.

She felt a pang of worry for Xu Jinnan.

Would she find the answers she was looking for tonight?

What secrets would she uncover?

—

Xu Jinnan drove to the train station, and a few minutes later, Chen Yue got into the car, his face grim.

“CEO Xu,” he said, knowing the importance of this matter.

He handed her two photos, printed on old, slightly yellowed paper, covered in handwritten notes and numbers. She glanced at them, recognizing Xu Tao and Lu Yun’s names, then put them away.

“CEO Xu, I haven’t looked at them,” Chen Yue said quickly, assuring her.

It was the truth; he was just doing his job, not looking for trouble.

“Go home. Send me your bank account information,” Xu Jinnan said.

After he left, she drove to a more secluded area and took out the photos again.

They seemed to be candid shots taken by Wang Zheng, the paper old and faded, the images grainy and low-resolution, like something from an old newspaper.

But the handwritten notes were still legible.

The car’s interior lights weren’t bright enough, so she turned on her phone’s flashlight, the bright beam illuminating the faded ink.

The first photo showed a date at the top – the year Xu Tao and Lu Yun were married.

The first entry was about Xu Tao – Alpha, S-class, blood type, birth date and time, down to the second, and his Bazi chart, the level of detail astonishing.

The second entry:

Suitable Mates: Six.

Six names followed, each one an S-class Omega, some newly differentiated, others not, their information as detailed as Xu Tao’s, with an additional entry – Compatibility Level.

The lowest was 60%.

The highest, 95%.

And the 95% match belonged to Lu Yun.

Newly differentiated, high compatibility, excellent genetic match.

Xu Jinnan took a deep breath, then noticed an additional note next to Lu Yun’s name, enclosed in parentheses.

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

Chapter 64 p2

They arrived at the riding stable a little before 2 p.m.

It wasn’t a weekend, and with the members-only policy, the stable was relatively empty.

They went to the changing rooms to put on their riding outfits.

Xu Jinnan finished first. Cai Ying’s VIP card granted them access to the VIP area, and the manager personally brought her a riding crop.

She took it, dismissed the manager, and sat down outside the changing room to wait for Shen Shu.

“Shu Shu, are you ready?” she called out after a few minutes.

The door opened, and Xu Jinnan’s eyes widened slightly.

The women’s riding outfit was different from the men’s.

A high-collared white shirt, a fitted black vest, tight breeches with a silver buckle, and tall black boots that hugged Shen Shu’s slender calves.

The overall effect was strikingly elegant, almost severe, yet undeniably alluring.

Xu Jinnan stepped closer, her voice full of admiration. “You look amazing.”

“I know,” Shen Shu replied, a playful glint in her eyes. She had a confident air about her when she was in a good mood.

Xu Jinnan smiled faintly and led her to the stables to choose their horses.

The wooden stalls housed a variety of horses, and the manager, walking beside them, explained, “The ones with nameplates are already reserved, either by their owners or by us, on their behalf. We have many other fine horses, some newly arrived, with excellent pedigrees. Take a look and see if any of them catch your eye.”

Xu Jinnan noticed the various nameplates hanging from the horses’ halters, some with names, others with symbols or initials.

“This is Miss Cai’s horse,” the manager said, pointing to a pinto.

A “C” hung from its halter, Cai Ying’s initial.

Like a mark of ownership.

Xu Jinnan’s gaze lingered on the nameplate, a strange sense of familiarity washing over her.

Then, she realized Shen Shu had been unusually quiet and glanced at her to see her also staring at the nameplate.

“Do you like this one?” Xu Jinnan asked.

Shen Shu shook her head. “No, I prefer solid colors,” she replied, looking away. She couldn’t explain it, but the nameplate had also seemed familiar to her.

They walked over to another row of stalls, and Xu Jinnan chose a dark brown horse, while Shen Shu picked a white one.

It wasn’t pure white, but a creamy white, its coat shimmering in the sunlight.

It was a beautiful horse.

It held its head high, its demeanor proud, but as Shen Shu reached out to stroke its neck, it nuzzled against her hand, its eyes gentle.

“It suits you,” Xu Jinnan commented.

Shen Shu, liking the horse, decided to ride it.

“You’re a beginner, so you can’t ride alone yet. I’ll lead you around for a bit,” Xu Jinnan said. The horses here were specially trained, and most of them were gentle and easy to handle.

She helped Shen Shu onto the horse, then, holding the reins, led her to a less crowded area.

Shen Shu’s expression was calm, but her knuckles, white from gripping the reins, betrayed her nervousness.

Xu Jinnan stopped. “Are you scared?”

Shen Shu looked down at her, not bothering to pretend. “A little.”

“Want me to take you?”

“Aren’t you already?”

“A different way,” Xu Jinnan said, looking up at her, her eyes squinting slightly against the sunlight. “Should I join you?”

Shen Shu understood instantly. “Okay,” she replied.

Xu Jinnan stepped onto the mounting block and swung herself onto the horse behind Shen Shu, her arm circling Shen Shu’s waist, pulling her back against her chest.

Almost the same position as last night.

As if they were picking up where they left off…

Xu Jinnan leaned forward to take the reins, her warm breath brushing against Shen Shu’s ear.

“Shu Shu, ready?”

“Yes.”

Xu Jinnan gently flicked the reins, nudging the horse’s flanks with her legs, and the horse started walking.

They rode across the vast green field, the blue sky stretching endlessly above them, bathed in warm sunlight.

The scent of fresh grass and the gentle breeze filled the air, carrying with it the warmth of the person behind her.

The horse wasn’t moving fast, but the rhythmic swaying motion brought their bodies closer, Shen Shu’s back pressed against Xu Jinnan’s chest.

Suddenly, the horse shifted slightly, and Shen Shu instinctively leaned back against Xu Jinnan, feeling her arm tighten around her waist.

And she thought she heard a sharp intake of breath behind her ear.

—

Xu Jinnan, mindful of Shen Shu’s recent publicity, had deliberately chosen a less crowded area. Seeing no one around, Shen Shu seemed to relax slightly.

“Want to go a little faster?” Xu Jinnan asked.

“Okay.”

Xu Jinnan didn’t use the crop, simply applying more pressure with her legs, and the horse picked up speed, Shen Shu’s body pressing closer against hers.

“Hold on tight if you’re going to fall,” Xu Jinnan said, her voice barely audible over the wind.

Shen Shu grasped her arms, her fingers tightening around Xu Jinnan’s firm biceps, surprisingly strong beneath the thin fabric of her shirt.

Xu Jinnan wasn’t particularly muscular, her arms and legs slender and shapely, but her strength was evident now.

Shen Shu’s heart skipped a beat, her palms tingling.

Xu Jinnan, glancing down at Shen Shu’s flushed earlobes, suddenly realized why the nameplate had seemed so familiar.

It had reminded her of the “X” tattoo on Shen Shu’s collarbone.

And of Xia Chun.

And of Shen Shu’s words in the car: The Xia Chun I knew wouldn’t do this.

Her thoughts paused, her lips pressing together, and she unconsciously pressed her legs harder against the horse’s flanks, the sudden acceleration making Shen Shu lose her balance.

“Xu Jinnan, slow down!” Shen Shu exclaimed, her voice laced with surprise and a hint of panic.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Xu Jinnan didn’t pull on the reins, simply tightening her arm around Shen Shu’s waist to reassure her.

She leaned in close, her lips brushing against Shen Shu’s ear. “I said the wrong thing in the car earlier,” she murmured, her voice slightly breathless.

She had been thinking about it ever since.

“What?” Shen Shu asked, her own breathing uneven.

“It wasn’t ‘maybe a little’,” Xu Jinnan said, her voice low and husky.

“I was very jealous. Hearing you praise someone else… it made me jealous,” she confessed, her words like a tremor before an earthquake, shattering the fragile peace, the memory of their earlier kiss resurfacing, the warmth of Shen Shu’s lips a phantom sensation.

She pulled on the reins, slowing the horse to a stop, then gently touched Shen Shu’s cheek with her gloved hand.

Shen Shu turned to her, their eyes meeting, her gaze lingering on Xu Jinnan’s lips, then slowly moving upwards.

She squinted slightly against the sunlight, her hand tightening around Xu Jinnan’s arm, her fingers brushing against her skin, a subtle invitation.

Xu Jinnan didn’t hesitate, leaning in…

The horse shifted slightly beneath them, the movement a gentle rocking motion.

As they pulled away, Xu Jinnan’s breath catching in her throat, she looked at Shen Shu, whose flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of desire and something else Xu Jinnan couldn’t quite decipher, were a breathtakingly beautiful sight.

Even though Shen Shu had turned towards her willingly, Xu Jinnan still felt a surge of possessiveness, a primal urge to claim her.

Her throat tightened, and she kissed Shen Shu again, a soft, lingering kiss, then, resting her forehead against Shen Shu’s, whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Shen Shu’s heart pounded, her fingers gripping Xu Jinnan’s arm, the warmth of her lips still tingling.

Xu Jinnan gently brushed her gloved hand against Shen Shu’s lips.

Shen Shu seemed to relax slightly, leaning her head against Xu Jinnan’s shoulder, the earlier intimacy having broken down the last of her defenses.

But her head was still bowed slightly, a hint of shyness in her posture, her cheeks burning as she noticed the silver ring on Xu Jinnan’s gloved finger.

She bit her lip, taking a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure, to hide her reaction.

Xu Jinnan seemed so experienced, so in control, while she…

“Have you done this… often?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

A gust of wind carried her words away, and Xu Jinnan, leaning closer, asked, “Done what often?”

“This,” Shen Shu clarified.

“…”

“Nan-jie!”

A familiar voice called out from a distance.

Xu Jinnan looked up to see Chen Bo and Han Wenfang approaching.

Since Song Ronghui and Yin Xue’s downfall, they had found new companions.

Han Wenfang, seeing someone she knew, stopped, while Chen Bo continued walking towards them.

“Oh my god, I thought I was mistaken,” he exclaimed, seeing Shen Shu with Xu Jinnan. “Hello, sister-in-law!”

Shen Shu’s expression cooled. She hadn’t forgotten the hospital incident.

“I’m going to get some water,” she said, dismounting.

Xu Jinnan glanced at Chen Bo, knowing he wanted to talk to her, and said, “I’ll go with you.” She didn’t like people like Chen Bo, but she could use him.

She had even discussed it with Shen Shu, who had said she didn’t mind Xu Jinnan using him for business purposes. But Shen Shu clearly disliked him.

Chen Bo, aware of her disdain, felt a twinge of resentment.

He had assumed Xu Jinnan had approved of his actions at the hospital.

He touched his nose. “Nan-jie, I wanted to talk to you about the North District project.”

Xu Jinnan stopped him from dismounting. “We’ll talk later,” she said. The resting area was a ten-minute ride away, and even with the safety nets along the riding path, it wasn’t entirely safe.

At the resting area, Xu Jinnan dismounted first, then reached out to Shen Shu. “Here,” she said, then, as Shen Shu took her hand, pulled her into her arms, lifting her off the horse.

After Shen Shu went inside to get some water, Chen Bo and Xu Jinnan sat down at a table under a parasol. A waiter brought them two cups of coffee.

Xu Jinnan raised an eyebrow, looking at Chen Bo. “Did you follow me here?”

Chen Bo’s back stiffened, and he quickly shook his head. “No way! It’s just a coincidence! I’ve been meaning to talk to you… And this place just opened recently. You know I frequent riding stables.”

Normally, she would have indulged him, but today, she wasn’t in the mood. She glanced towards the resting area. “Just say what you want.”

Chen Bo briefly explained his request – he wanted to know if there was any possibility of him getting involved in the North District project.

“Sis, let me join your team. My old man is getting stricter and stricter with me, telling me to learn from you. We’re both spoiled brats, but you managed to turn your life around. Why can’t I?”

Xu Jinnan: “…”

Chen Bo grinned. “If he sees me focusing on my career, he’ll stop nagging me.”

It was true, but there was another reason – he had a sort of blind admiration for Xu Jinnan.

Her success, in his eyes, was effortless, and seeing her “reform,” he wanted to try it too.

“Why are you coming to me with your family problems?”

“My father only gives me trivial tasks. It’s boring, and I don’t want to work with him. I want to work with you,” he said.

Xu Jinnan took a sip of coffee.

“What do you want to do?” she asked. “Or rather, what can you do?”

Chen Bo’s eyes lit up. “Nan-jie, you decide! I’m free. I can do anything.”

Xu Jinnan considered it, not rejecting him outright. Having Chen Bo involved wouldn’t be a bad thing. The Chen family also had some influence in North City. This favor wasn’t just for Chen Bo; it was for the Chen family.

After discussing the details, she went to find Shen Shu.

She opened the door to the resting room and saw Shen Shu sitting on the sofa, examining the riding crop.

Xu Jinnan paused. Shen Shu seemed to have a particular interest in leather…

Perhaps I should get rid of those things after all.

Chapter 64 p1

The ten-square-meter bathroom felt like a hot air balloon, the air thick with tension.

Their reflections in the mirror were inches apart, their bodies close, yet not quite touching, Shen Shu’s back tingling with a strange mix of warmth and a frustrating emptiness, as if she were standing on tiptoe, reaching for something just beyond her grasp.

Even though Xu Jinnan was holding her, she felt adrift, untethered.

“Shu Shu?” Xu Jinnan whispered, her warm breath caressing Shen Shu’s ear.

Shen Shu’s entire being felt enveloped in warmth, her voice trembling slightly. “What if it still hurts?”

Xu Jinnan tilted her head back slightly, looking at Shen Shu’s reflection in the mirror, her cheek brushing against Shen Shu’s. “How about this?” she murmured, then gently kissed Shen Shu’s cheek.

Her gaze remained fixed on the mirror as their lips touched, watching Shen Shu’s reaction, searching her eyes for a sign of acceptance or rejection, of pleasure or displeasure.

Shen Shu’s breath hitched, her body trembling slightly under Xu Jinnan’s intense gaze, which felt like a scanner, penetrating her defenses, exposing her innermost thoughts and desires.

She bit her lip, her teeth pressing against the soft flesh.

“Mm…” she murmured softly.

Xu Jinnan’s warm breath shifted to her ear, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her earlobe.

“How about this?” she whispered.

Shen Shu’s earlobe, small and delicate, looked incredibly tempting.

But Xu Jinnan didn’t kiss it, simply touching it lightly with her lips.

Even this fleeting contact was enough to make Shen Shu’s legs tremble, her composure shattering like a broken mirror.

She steadied herself against the counter, her hand gripping the edge.

Xu Jinnan should have stopped there. She knew she should stop.

But the empty apartment, the close confines of the bathroom, the mingled scent of vanilla, honey, and milk…

Her Alpha instincts, the primal urge to possess and dominate, were overwhelming.

She leaned closer, pressing Shen Shu against the cool surface of the counter.

“Why are you so quiet?” she murmured, her lips brushing against Shen Shu’s ear.

Shen Shu’s heart pounded, the warmth of Xu Jinnan’s breath still lingering on her skin, the distance between them now a torment.

Her throat felt dry, like she had tasted a sweet treat, only to have it snatched away, the lingering sweetness a constant reminder of what she craved.

“What do you want me to say, Teacher Xu?” she asked, her voice slightly breathless.

“Hmm…” Xu Jinnan, pleased that Shen Shu had spoken, and amused by the formal address, smiled faintly, looking at Shen Shu’s reflection in the mirror. “Anything.”

Their voices were both husky, like parched flowers in a desert, desperate for water.

Shen Shu didn’t seem to know what to say, but Xu Jinnan’s gaze, as she looked at her, was intense.

She turned her head, her hand reaching out to gently caress Shen Shu’s cheek.

“Shu Shu, your face is so warm,” she murmured.

Shen Shu instinctively reached for Xu Jinnan’s hand, but before she could touch it—

A knock came at the door.

Xu Jinnan quickly withdrew her hand, listening. She heard voices outside.

“I’ll go check,” she said.

“Okay.”

She looked through the peephole and saw a young woman with curly hair.

“I’m your upstairs neighbor,” the woman said. “I’m so sorry, but I dropped some clothes on your balcony while I was hanging laundry. Could you get them for me?”

Xu Jinnan went to the balcony and saw a few garments draped over the railing.

She hesitated, then heard Shen Shu enter the living room.

“I’ll get a plastic bag,” she said, turning to Shen Shu.

She quickly returned with the bag and carefully placed the clothes inside, then opened the door slightly and handed it to the woman.

“Thank you,” the woman said.

“Be more careful next time,” Xu Jinnan replied, closing the door.

She went to Shen Shu’s bedroom and saw her sitting on the bed, reading.

“I’m going to take a shower,” she said, grabbing her pajamas.

“Okay,” Shen Shu replied.

Xu Jinnan went to the bathroom, closed the door, and stood there for a moment, looking at the counter, then at her reflection in the mirror.

She undressed, then, standing in front of the mirror, her mind replaying their earlier encounter, touched her lips lightly.

The memory was vivid, like a scene from a forbidden movie.

She exhaled and stepped into the shower, closing the glass door behind her.

She stood under the spray of hot water, letting it wash over her, then opened her mouth, catching a few drops before spitting them out.

She stayed in the shower for almost an hour.

Despite the long shower, she still couldn’t sleep, and neither could Shen Shu.

—

The next morning, they had planned to go to the riding stable at 1 p.m., but neither of them woke up early.

Xu Jinnan made egg noodles and a small portion of sweet and sour pork ribs for a late breakfast/early lunch.

The riding stable was outside the city, about a forty-minute drive from Xingcheng International.

Xu Jinnan drove, and Shen Shu sat in the passenger seat, scrolling through messages on her phone.

Tong Jia was discussing the CP super topic.

Her conversation with Xia Chun’s agent hadn’t gone well. While Shen Shu’s repost and like had helped to quell the rumors, Xia Chun herself hadn’t done anything, leading to speculation among some netizens and fans.

Some of the comments, especially from trolls, were particularly nasty.

She was the one who started the rumors in the first place.

Trying to use Xia Chun for clout, then pretending to clarify things when she got called out.

So obvious. Poor Chun Chun.

Xia Chun’s agency hasn’t even responded. It’s just the Qipao Miss flailing around…

I used to like Shen Shu after Xia Chun praised her, but I didn’t expect her to be this kind of person.

While Shen Shu herself wasn’t bothered by the comments, Tong Jia and the other studio staff were furious. Tong Jia had even gone to talk to Xia Chun’s agent that morning, but he had been evasive, all smiles and polite words, then had disappeared altogether.

Not wanting to discuss it openly in the group chat, Tong Jia sent Shen Shu a private message.

Tong Jia: [I’m so frustrated! I asked to speak to Xia Chun directly, and you know what her agent said? “If you want to talk to her, why don’t you go yourself?” Meaning he wants you to talk to Xia Chun about this!]

Tong Jia: [I’m starting to think Xia Chun’s perfect image is just an act. Does she still have feelings for you? Ugh, I’m so angry!]

Tong Jia: [I don’t understand what they’re trying to achieve. You’re filming together. If your reputation is damaged, it affects the entire production. How does that benefit Xia Chun?]

Shen Shu read the messages, lost in thought.

She remembered Xia Chun’s confession at the hospital, the one Xu Jinnan and Tong Jia had interrupted.

After Xu Jinnan left, she had returned to Xia Chun’s room and made it clear they had no future together.

Since then, to avoid any misunderstandings, and also because she genuinely wanted to move on, she had avoided interacting with Xia Chun outside of filming, even rejecting her request for a private conversation and avoiding her whenever possible.

She sighed softly.

Xu Jinnan, hearing her sigh, glanced over, noticing her troubled expression. “What’s wrong?”

Shen Shu hesitated, then briefly explained the situation.

The online comments, while unpleasant, weren’t as bad as before, and Xia Chun’s agency had no reason to cooperate with the rumors.

So, Shen Shu wasn’t particularly upset.

The car stopped at a red light.

“Have you considered that Xia Chun’s agent might be relaying messages to her?” Xu Jinnan asked, her tone neutral, a subtle question hidden in her words.

Shen Shu had, of course, considered it.

She hesitated. “The Xia Chun I knew wouldn’t do this,” she said softly, her voice full of sincerity.

She had met Xia Chun in college. She had been kind, gentle, and always smiling, just like now.

But something had changed.

Regardless of how their relationship had ended, she couldn’t believe Xia Chun would resort to such underhanded tactics to force a meeting.

The light turned green.

Xu Jinnan, her gaze fixed on the road ahead, simply said, “Oh.”

She didn’t know what else to say.

She didn’t understand their relationship; Shen Shu did.

Her tone sounded magnanimous, almost indifferent, and Shen Shu glanced at her.

The sunlight streaming through the window illuminated Xu Jinnan’s face, highlighting the soft downy hairs on her cheeks.

Her profile was sharp and elegant, her expression cool and composed.

“Xu Jinnan,” Shen Shu said, the slight upward inflection in her voice making it sound almost playful.

“Yes?”

“Are you jealous?”

Xu Jinnan paused. “…Maybe a little,” she admitted.

If Shen Shu had pressed her, she would have given a different answer.

But Shen Shu didn’t ask any further questions, simply turning to look out the window.

The glass reflected the curve of her lips, the subtle gloss making them look even more alluring.

Outside, the leaves on the trees lining the road were starting to turn yellow, the colors of autumn a vibrant mix of life and decay, a season of change and renewal.

—

 

Chapter 63

Shen Shu’s voice, as she said Xu Jinnan’s name, was soft, almost a murmur, but her fingers, gripping Xu Jinnan’s dress, tightened like a kitten’s claws.

Her beautiful eyes, wide and sparkling, held a hint of playful affection, like a kitten’s meow.

Seeing this vulnerable side of Shen Shu, Xu Jinnan’s throat tightened.

This stark contrast to her usual aloof demeanor was both surprising and endearing.

She leaned closer, their noses brushing against each other, and felt Shen Shu’s grip tighten on her dress.

She reached out and gently grasped Shen Shu’s wrist, intending to close the distance between them…

Then, the sound of approaching tires and the glare of headlights startled them.

Xu Jinnan paused, her nose touching Shen Shu’s, a husky chuckle escaping her lips. “Shu Shu, let’s go home,” she whispered, having almost forgotten they were in a public place.

—

They drove back to the apartment in silence, the few kilometers passing quickly.

But it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. A shared sense of ease and happiness, a subtle intimacy, lingered in the air.

Like the first buds of spring, a promise of new beginnings, their hearts filled with a quiet joy.

As they got out of the car and walked towards the elevator, Xu Jinnan suddenly stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Shen Shu asked, puzzled.

Xu Jinnan smiled ruefully. “Shu Shu, what did we go out for?” She had taken the bag with the intention of discarding it, but the kiss in the car had completely erased it from her mind.

Shen Shu’s lips curved into a smile as she realized what Xu Jinnan meant. “Are you going back now?”

Xu Jinnan shook her head, sighing. “It’s almost midnight.”

She returned to the car, retrieved the bag, and they went upstairs.

—

Back at the apartment, Xu Jinnan poured them each a glass of water, and they stood in silence for a few minutes, sipping their drinks.

Finally, Xu Jinnan broke the silence. “What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?”

Shen Shu took a sip of water. “You don’t have to always ask what I want. What do you want?”

“I’m not picky. Anything is fine,” Xu Jinnan replied.

“Porridge then,” Shen Shu said. “Oh, right, Lin Wei sent a video of Little Crescent Moon.” She took out her phone and opened the video.

Xu Jinnan leaned closer, her hand gently brushing against Shen Shu’s as she adjusted the phone slightly.

Shen Shu’s palm was warmer than she had expected, almost as warm as it had been in the car.

She tried to maintain her composure, to ignore the memory of their almost-kiss, but the clean, sunny scent of Xu Jinnan’s pheromones was intoxicating.

Xu Jinnan watched the video.

It seemed to be from a National Day celebration. Little Crescent Moon, wearing a white tutu, was dancing, a bright smile on her face.

Her movements weren’t perfect, but she was clearly trying her best, her small body occasionally wobbling.

Then, a short video of Little Crescent Moon waving at the camera.

“Auntie Nannan, Auntie Shen Shu, how are you? I miss you!” she chirped, then giggled, hiding her face shyly, less bold than during their previous visits.

Children were like that; they warmed up quickly, but a little distance, a lack of contact, could create a sense of unfamiliarity.

“Let’s visit her again sometime,” Shen Shu said.

“Okay, next month. You’ll be busy this month,” Xu Jinnan replied, nodding. She had checked Shen Shu’s schedule with Tong Jia; besides the day after tomorrow, she was booked solid for the next two weeks.

Xu Jinnan herself was also busy this month, barely able to spare a day, a quick trip there and back.

She pulled her hand away from Shen Shu’s, her palm slightly damp, a cool breeze dispelling the lingering warmth.

“Okay,” Shen Shu replied, the conversation ending.

Xu Jinnan poured the remaining water from her glass into the sink, then turned to Shen Shu, a smile playing on her lips. “You really like children, don’t you?”

“Don’t you?”

“I do, but I’m not very good with them,” Xu Jinnan admitted.

She had been a bit clumsy taking care of Little Crescent Moon.

“Children are easy. They’re easy to please,” Shen Shu said.

Xu Jinnan washed her glass and placed it on the drying rack, then raised an eyebrow. “Definitely easier to please than adults,” she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Shen Shu looked at her. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say…” Xu Jinnan paused. “It’s getting late. Let’s go to bed.”

Let’s go to bed.

The words, seemingly innocent, held a certain suggestive undertone.

Shen Shu’s breath hitched, her heart racing slightly.

Xu Jinnan hadn’t intended it that way; she often said such things casually. But tonight, it felt different.

She was considering whether to clarify her meaning when Shen Shu picked up her glass. “Okay, good night,” she said softly.

Xu Jinnan’s gaze lingered on Shen Shu’s flushed earlobes, her heart skipping a beat.

“Good night, Shu Shu,” she replied.

She didn’t look away until Shen Shu had closed the bedroom door behind her.

If Shen Shu had glanced back, she would have seen the desire in Xu Jinnan’s eyes, the carefully controlled longing.

–In her bedroom, the cool white light of the bedside lamp was still on.

Shen Shu lay in bed, the blanket pulled up to her chest, then turned over, her gaze falling on the base of the lamp.

The shadow it cast on the table… reminded her of Xu Jinnan leaning over her, her lips cool against Shen Shu’s, the initial contact like a soft jelly, tempting her to…

The thought was embarrassing.

She bit her lip, remembering the moment Xu Jinnan had pulled away, and felt a strange pang of regret…

She pulled the blanket higher, exhaling slowly, trying to push the thoughts aside.

She felt like a lovesick fool around Xu Jinnan.

—

The next morning, Xu Jinnan hadn’t slept well.

She had spent the night tossing and turning, plagued by a restless desire, a frustrating dream where she was reaching for someone, but couldn’t quite grasp them.

A night of wasted effort.

But she felt surprisingly alert, despite the lack of sleep.

As if on cue, just as she opened her door, Shen Shu emerged from her bedroom.

“Morning,” they said simultaneously.

“You go wash up. I’ll make some porridge,” Xu Jinnan said, heading towards the kitchen island.

Shen Shu took a couple of steps, rubbing her eyes. “I’ll just have toast. I’m running late,” she said.

Xu Jinnan looked at her. “You didn’t sleep well either?”

Either.

The word, seemingly insignificant, changed the tone of the sentence, creating a subtle connection between them.

“…Not really,” Shen Shu replied.

She hadn’t slept well.

She had been dreaming all night and felt exhausted.

The dream… the physical intimacy had felt so real that her heart was still racing.

Thinking about it, the cool autumn air suddenly felt warmer.

Her body temperature had risen slightly.

—

After washing up, they sat down at the table for breakfast.

Xu Jinnan had a mango cream bread, Shen Shu a plain multigrain toast, each with a glass of milk and a boiled egg.

Xu Jinnan pushed the blueberry jam towards Shen Shu. “I can’t drive you today. I have to go to the North District,” she said.

“It’s fine. I’ll take a taxi,” Shen Shu replied, nodding.

“I wouldn’t dream of letting you take a taxi,” Xu Jinnan said, swallowing her bread and smiling faintly. “I’ll have Zhou Pei drive you.”

“What about you?” Shen Shu asked, looking up just as Xu Jinnan licked a smear of cream from her lip, the gesture strangely sensual.

Shen Shu took a large gulp of milk.

“Viola will drive me,” Xu Jinnan replied.

Shen Shu looked away, her voice calm. “Viola is also very busy, driving back and forth between the North District and the city center, and now she has to be your chauffeur too.”

“You make me sound like a terrible boss,” Xu Jinnan said with a laugh. “It’s in her contract. Besides, I’ve only asked her to drive me twice this week. And she’s compensated accordingly.”

Shen Shu paused. “Oh, so I’m supposed to praise you now?”

Xu Jinnan: “Hmm?”

—

Xu Jinnan went to the North District.

The construction workers were already hard at work. It was just a routine inspection, but even with Viola overseeing the project, she still had to make regular appearances.

Otherwise, they might get complacent.

There was no such thing as a minor detail in construction; a small oversight now could become a major problem later.

She walked around the site, dressed in a black tracksuit and a red hard hat, her white sneakers quickly covered in dust, but she didn’t mind.

As she was leaving, she saw Xu Li arriving.

They saw each other, but neither of them acknowledged the other.

Back in the car, Xu Jinnan asked Viola, “How often does Xu Li come here?”

“Every other day. Like you, she reviews the daily construction reports, and she’s very meticulous. She asked for our reports as well… but as you instructed, I haven’t given them to her.”

Xu Jinnan nodded, not asking any further questions.

She had underestimated Xu Li. Initially, she had seen her as just another spoiled brat, resentful of the original Xu Jinnan because of the inheritance.

Based on their previous interactions, Xu Li had seemed impulsive and easily angered.

But now, she saw a different side to her.

A woman who was meticulous about her work, even willing to visit the construction site, couldn’t be simply dismissed as a fool.

It was possible, but unlikely.

And no one in the Xu family was simple.

Just then, a phone call interrupted her thoughts.

—

After visiting Meilai Jewelry and having lunch, she went to the 16th floor, where the “Show” live streaming studio was located.

Since the live stream exposé, the app’s downloads had skyrocketed, and she had dedicated an entire floor to the project, even converting some of the spaces downstairs into studios.

She planned to recruit some streamers, focusing on individual talents – singing, dancing, even playing mahjong. Anything unique and entertaining.

“We can also consider collaborating with popular influencers and celebrities. Prepare a few budget proposals for this,” she said to Viola as they entered the elevator.

“Certainly. I’ll inform the team downstairs,” Viola replied.

She thought Shen Shu would be a good fit, considering her recent popularity and her relationship with Xu Jinnan.

It could be even more effective than collaborating with other celebrities.

But the plan wasn’t finalized yet, so there was no rush.

—

It was a little past 2 p.m.

As Xu Jinnan and Viola stepped out of the elevator, Xu Jinnan paused, instinctively glancing towards the film crew’s office area across the hall.

She didn’t see Shen Shu.

But as she turned around, she saw Tan Jie walking towards them from the pantry.

She quickly looked away.

Tan Jie, however, called out to her. “CEO Xu, are you going to the Chen family banquet next week?”

Xu Jinnan had seen Chen Bo mention it in the group chat. It was his father’s birthday party, and most of North City’s elite would be there.

The Xu family would receive an invitation as well.

Chen Bo had asked if she was going, but she hadn’t given him a definite answer.

She didn’t want to engage with Tan Jie, who continued, smiling, “I’ll be there too.”

While the business world and the entertainment industry seemed like separate spheres, there was some overlap. Like the Han family banquet, which had been attended by Xia Chun.

But someone of Tan Jie’s status wouldn’t have been invited by the Han family.

Xu Jinnan wasn’t interested.

“Is that so?” she replied dismissively.

“I rarely attend such events, but Young Master Chen said you’re a friend, so I assumed you would be there,” Tan Jie said, her words carrying a subtle, suggestive undertone.

Xu Jinnan frowned.

Tan Jie smiled, waiting.

“Did you enjoy the green tea pastries?” Xu Jinnan asked.

Tan Jie: “…”

—

Inside the film crew’s office, the director yelled “Cut!”, and Shen Shu emerged from the back room, Tong Jia handing her a glass of water.

“Are you tired?”

Shen Shu’s expression turned serious. “Was there something wrong with my performance?”

“No,” Tong Jia reassured her, patting her back. “You just seem a little… out of it.”

Shen Shu relaxed slightly. “Yes, I’m a little tired.”

Tong Jia leaned closer, a playful glint in her eyes. “Tired, maybe, but you seem happy.”

Shen Shu, understanding the innuendo, her thoughts drifting to Xu Jinnan, was about to ask Tong Jia for her phone when her gaze stopped on something outside the window.

Xu Jinnan’s back was turned, and Viola and Tan Jie were standing beside her, almost flanking her.

Perhaps sensing her silence, Tong Jia followed her gaze.

“What’s Tan Jie doing?” she asked, lowering her voice, mindful of the crew members around them. “Is your wife some kind of irresistible magnet?”

“She’s not exactly avoiding her, is she?” Shen Shu retorted, turning away and walking towards her resting area.

Tong Jia followed her. “No, CEO Xu isn’t even talking to her. And she sent her those green tea pastries last time. Besides, would CEO Xu even be interested in her? You two are ridiculous, getting jealous over everything.”

“…I’m not jealous,” Shen Shu said, though she wasn’t sure why she felt like a petulant child.

“Sure, you’re not. Oh, look, they’re hugging now!” Tong Jia exclaimed.

Shen Shu whirled around, her gaze fixed on the people outside the window.

They were still just standing there.

Tong Jia chuckled, poking Shen Shu’s shoulder. “Still saying you’re not jealous? Shu Shu, you’re so cute.”

“Tong Jia!”

Tong Jia, amused by Shen Shu’s flustered reaction, smiled and reached out to pat her back.

“Sorry, sorry, I was wrong. Don’t be mad.”

—

Just then, Viola, having noticed Tong Jia’s playful gesture, was about to alert Xu Jinnan when Tan Jie spoke again.

“CEO Xu, you seem to have misunderstood. I rarely attend these kinds of events. If you and Miss Shen were going, I would at least know someone there,” she explained.

“Misunderstood what?” Xu Jinnan asked, noticing people looking at them. She turned away, her voice cold. “We’re not exactly close.”

She walked back to her office, Viola following her. Viola, hesitating, then said sincerely, “CEO Xu, Miss Shen might be upset.”

Xu Jinnan looked at her, puzzled, then, after hearing her explanation, smiled faintly. “I doubt it.” She had already told Shen Shu about the lunch box incident; there was nothing between her and Tan Jie.

Shen Shu wouldn’t overthink it, would she?

Viola didn’t say anything more. It was a personal matter; she could offer a suggestion, but not interfere.

—

Back in her office, Xu Jinnan sat down on the sofa, the earlier encounter briefly distracting her, then she remembered something.

The video.

The recording Chen Yue had taken in Qucheng.

She put on her Bluetooth earbuds and opened the video.

The town, located near the Xu family’s ancestral home, was called Xiao Qu Town.

The hidden camera, attached to Chen Yue’s chest, had recorded two hours of footage, starting from the moment they arrived.

Xu Jinnan watched the video at normal speed, as if retracing their steps, her attention still drawn to the “XU” logos. She had investigated after returning; the Xu Corporation had investments in the town.

To be precise, they had a stake in almost every business there.

They had even funded the construction of most of the buildings on that street.

She watched the video for over an hour, focusing on Chen Yue’s perspective, but didn’t notice anything unusual.

Then, the video showed Xu Lian and her wife approaching.

Her wife’s name was Li Laijia, a sophisticated woman in her mid-thirties.

Xu Jinnan watched the scene again, feeling like she had missed something, then rewound it and played it in slow motion.

Her gaze fixed on Li Laijia, and as she had suspected, Li Laijia’s expression had flickered for a brief moment upon seeing her, a subtle shift that suggested recognition, not animosity.

But it had been fleeting.

She continued watching. At the end of the video, as they were about to get into the car, the camera, still recording, captured Xu Lian and Li Laijia in the background.

She saw Xu Lian grab Li Laijia’s hair, yank her head back, then roughly shove her into the car.

It was a violent gesture.

Xu Jinnan frowned, the scene reminding her of the dream, the one where she had seen Xu Lian abusing a little girl in the courtyard…

And Xu Tao was also abusive.

Was it a coincidence?

She refocused on the video.

It would be difficult to investigate Xiao Qu Town on her own. Xu Lian was definitely involved, and perhaps Li Laijia could be a breakthrough.

Meaning she might have to return to Qucheng.

But so far, progress had been slow. She needed more clues.

Just then, her phone vibrated, startling her, and she instinctively tensed.

It was Chen Yue.

“CEO Xu, I found it,” he said, his voice raspy, the sound of exhaling smoke audible. “You were right. My friend kept an eye on Wang Zheng. He was staying at a hotel at first, then, after making sure no one was following him, he went to his… girlfriend’s place. That’s where it is.”

“His girlfriend?”

Chen Yue chuckled. “You’re so smart! My friend approached her. She said she has two documents, but she wants fifty thousand yuan for them.” His tone was dismissive, as if he thought the woman was foolish for asking for so little.

Xu Jinnan’s lips curved into a smile, but she remained cautious. “Go get them personally,” she instructed.

“Don’t worry, I’m already buying a ticket. But it’s late. I probably won’t be back until tonight,” he replied.

“No matter how late it is, come to me as soon as you have them,” Xu Jinnan said.

The last time, Wang Zheng had run, delaying everything. She couldn’t afford another setback.

“Certainly.”

Xu Jinnan hung up, exhaling slowly. What secrets had Wang Zheng been hiding?

She felt a surge of nervous anticipation, like the ripples on a still pond before a tsunami.

Unable to relax, she stood by the window for a long time, her mind racing.

She was one step closer to the truth, but her relationship with Shen Shu had just started to improve, and she was worried.

Just then, as if on cue, her phone buzzed with a message from Tong Jia.

Tong Jia: [CEO Xu, a word of advice, since you’re the sugar momma – prepare a foot bath. Your wife is jealous!]

Xu Jinnan: “…”

She hadn’t taken Viola’s words seriously earlier.

But now… she knew she shouldn’t feel this way, but she couldn’t deny the surge of happiness.

Shen Shu was jealous.

—

That evening, she waited for Shen Shu to finish filming and drove her home herself.

Shen Shu was quiet during the drive, her responses brief and noncommittal, her emotions hidden.

Xu Jinnan didn’t press her, and once they were home, she told Shen Shu to take a shower while she finished reading the reports she hadn’t had time for at the office.

Half an hour later, Shen Shu emerged from the bathroom, wearing her strawberry-print pajamas.

Her dark hair was wrapped in a soft, pink towel, a few damp strands escaping and curling around her face, a single droplet of water sliding down her neck and disappearing beneath the fabric of her top.

Xu Jinnan’s gaze followed the droplet.

“You can go now,” Shen Shu said, wiping her hair with the towel.

“Aren’t you going to dry your hair?” Xu Jinnan asked.

She had noticed Shen Shu rarely dried her hair after showering.

“I don’t like it,” Shen Shu replied.

She found it too much trouble, a waste of time, and since she usually stayed up late, her hair would be dry by the time she went to bed.

Xu Jinnan stood up and walked over to her, gently squeezing the damp strands of hair with the towel.

“You should dry your hair. You’ll catch a cold in this weather,” she said softly.

Shen Shu’s skin, still warm from the shower, felt hot against Xu Jinnan’s hand as she brushed her neck, and Shen Shu instinctively flinched.

“No, I don’t want to,” she said, her voice flat, her gaze averted.

While her tone was normal, her averted gaze told Xu Jinnan she was still upset about the Tan Jie incident.

And she was also insecure.

As Shen Shu turned to walk away, Xu Jinnan gently grasped her wrist. “I’ll dry it for you,” she said, then, without waiting for a response, led her to the bathroom.

She plugged in the hairdryer and gently pushed Shen Shu towards the counter, then stood behind her.

Shen Shu looked up at Xu Jinnan’s reflection in the mirror, the warm air from the hairdryer a comforting presence on her scalp, her back tingling despite the distance between them.

Xu Jinnan’s eyes met hers in the mirror, then she quickly looked away, focusing on Shen Shu’s hair.

Her hands, slender and pale, were like something out of a manga.

Beautiful.

Her touch was gentle as she ran her fingers through Shen Shu’s soft hair, the familiar scent of her pheromones filling the air with each pass of the hairdryer.

The hairdryer clicked off, the warmth fading.

Xu Jinnan touched Shen Shu’s hair, placing the hairdryer on the counter, then, instead of stepping away, leaned closer, her face inches from Shen Shu’s ear.

“I won’t talk to her again, okay?” she whispered, her voice soft and coaxing.

Shen Shu didn’t want to be difficult; it had been a minor incident, but her words still carried a hint of resentment. “You can talk to whoever you want,” she said, annoyed by her own pettiness, and turned to leave.

Xu Jinnan’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a gentle embrace.

“Will this make you feel better?” she whispered.