Hearing Jiang Ci’s words, Su Yue’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. This man… he was still holding a grudge from this morning—over her harmless suggestion that he limit himself to eating mango cake only twice a week.
So this was what he had been waiting for.
“Jiang Ci,” Su Yue raised her brows, her voice calm, “I didn’t stop you to eat cake. Don’t twist my words and spread false rumors.” She wasn’t going to let herself be blamed for his petty sulking. “Besides, you never agreed to it.”
Jiang Ci lazily rested his chin on one hand. His fingers were long and well-defined, but oddly, they looked harsher—more callous—than even the scarred left side of his face. With the other hand, he stirred the porridge in his bowl with an expression as cold as frost.
“You said twice a week,” he murmured gloomily, “which means I never got to eat it at all.”
At the side, Song Nianyue quietly observed them, fully understanding the tension in the air. A smile slowly curved on her lips as she turned to look at Su Yue. Her gaze, though warm in appearance, subtly cooled as it landed on Su Yue’s delicate features. Then, softly, she said, “Miss Su, you probably don’t understand Jiang Ci very well.”
She opened the cake box, releasing a wave of sweet, fragrant aroma that instantly filled the air. Inside was a dainty, beautifully decorated mango cake. Compared to yesterday’s unsightly mess, this one was truly a feast for the eyes.
“Jiang Ci loves mango cake,” Song Nianyue continued gently. “Asking him to give up something he likes… I know you probably meant well, but everyone has their own preferences. You shouldn’t impose your own standards on others.”
She offered an elegant smile as she picked up the knife to cut the cake. “For instance, I love dancing. I train with high intensity every day. Yes, my body aches, and yes, it strains my ligaments. People tell me I shouldn’t push myself so hard—it’s bad for my health. But I still do it, because I love it. I’ll accept advice, but that doesn’t mean I’ll follow it.”
She sliced the cake into four neat pieces. “I hope you don’t mind me being blunt, Miss Su. It’s just that we see things differently. I happen to understand Jiang Ci’s perspective.”
As she placed the largest slice on a small plate and handed it to Jiang Ci, her tone remained pleasant, gracious, as though she were doing something completely unremarkable. “Would you like to try it, Jiang Ci? It may not be as good as something from a professional pastry chef, but I worked hard on it. I hope it tastes alright.”
Just as she glanced up to meet his face, her eyes froze. Under the sunlight, the scars twisted along his face like crawling flesh-colored worms. She quickly looked away.
Jiang Ci lifted the corners of his lips in a cold, half-smile and turned to Su Yue. “Su Yue, do you agree with this woman trying to get me to eat cake?”
Su Yue was caught off guard by the question. What kind of trap is this? He was deliberately dragging her into the fire! She didn’t miss how Song Nianyue’s smile faltered into awkwardness.
How wicked.
Grinding her teeth silently, Su Yue composed herself. “You’re free to eat whatever you like,” she replied, her tone sugar-sweet. Then her beautiful eyes curved like crescent moons, glimmering beneath the sunlight like scattered stardust—so dazzling it made people hold their breath. “Besides, Miss Song went through so much effort. You should eat it quickly.”
She didn’t want to appear petty or jealous, even if Song Nianyue was clearly staking her claim.
Song Nianyue, with her cultured demeanor, elegant manners, and pleasant smile, could easily earn people’s favor. But not Su Yue’s.
She had been in the entertainment industry long enough. She had seen countless people wearing masks of civility. Her ability to detect hypocrisy was finely honed.
And Song Nianyue? She had said a lot just now—sugar-coated words that dressed her opinion as kindness, but in reality, were sharp jabs meant to make Su Yue seem nosy and controlling.
Su Yue’s not a fool. How could she not hear the veiled accusations?
Her gaze shifted toward Jiang Ci. So this woman likes him? That would explain why she went to such lengths to win him over.
But really… this man, with his disfigured face, bad temper, and blindness—he could still attract women? And not just any woman, but one as polished as Song Nianyue?
What strange taste.
Su Yue inwardly rolled her eyes. She hated trouble. This Song Nianyue had better not create any for her.
Meanwhile, Jiang Ci leaned back in his chair, completely disinterested. His long legs crossed, and his expression grew colder. “I’m not eating it.”
Song Nianyue smiled gently, as if unaffected.
But Jiang Ci frowned and glanced at the plate with disdain. “Since it’s not even comparable to what a professional makes, why would I bother eating such a failure?”
Then he tilted his head toward Su Yue and said with a sneer, “I only eat what Su Yue makes.” He paused, adding petulantly, “Too bad she won’t make it for me.”
Song Nianyue’s face turned ghostly pale.
She had always thought she was different to Jiang Ci. Special. After all, besides her, no other woman had ever been seen beside him. Su Yue was an exception, she had told herself.
But Jiang Ci had just publicly, mercilessly, placed Su Yue above her.
No matter how refined she was, no matter how much poise she maintained, she still felt the sting of shame. She forced a smile and said with a trace of hurt in her voice, “I know it’s not perfect. You didn’t have to be so blunt. It does hurt.”
But almost instantly, she composed herself. “I’ll learn,” she said lightly. “Between dance rehearsals, I’ll find time to master mango cake. Miss Su has good skills, but you’ll eventually get tired of eating just her cake. Isn’t it better to have variety?”
Jiang Ci sneered without a hint of warmth. “You’re insane. I just said—I only eat what Su Yue makes.”
Without even glancing her way, he continued, “Do whatever you want, but don’t bring it for me to eat.”
Did she think he had no taste? That he ate just anything because it was mango flavored?
This time, Song Nianyue’s face drained completely of color.
She had always been proud, but now she sat there frozen, her gaze locking onto Jiang Ci’s lifeless eyes and the hideous scar that marred one side of his face. She rose, biting her lip, and left silently—embarrassed and humiliated.
The pavilion fell into silence once more.
Jiang Haoyan stared at the mango cake on the table, his small mouth twitching. He wanted to eat it… but if his father didn’t touch it, neither could he.
Su Yue had always known how venomous Jiang Ci’s tongue could be—she had been on the receiving end many times. But watching someone else be his target today? It was surprisingly satisfying. Miss Song looked like she might cry.
Still… wasn’t Song Nianyue a little strange? Jiang Ci was hardly easy to deal with, yet she went out of her way to please him. Was it love?
At noon, Su Yue received a call from her father.
Su Jindong had already checked the surveillance at the hotel alongside the Guo family. The culprits were the younger generation of a few third-rate wealthy families—namely, the Xie, Zeng, and Xiang families.
These families might not care about Jiang Ci, but Su Jindong would never tolerate anyone threatening his daughter.
He had planned to take action… until news came that Xie Fei and his friends were hospitalized the night before. Some had broken arms, others broken legs.
The ruthless, clean-cut method was a familiar one. Very much Jiang Ci’s style.
Su Jindong knew the kind of madman Jiang Ci was. He’d assumed that after being blinded and kicked out of the Jiang family, the man would become more restrained. It seemed others had thought the same and tried to step on him like a drowning dog.
Only to be bitten back. Viciously.
What Su Jindong feared now… was that Jiang Ci might turn that madness toward his daughter.
On the phone, he warned Su Yue carefully.
She was shaken but kept calm. “Don’t worry, Dad. Jiang Ci has never hurt me.” Her voice was steady. “If he was angry, I’d know. Honestly, he’s not hard to get along with.”
In the end, Su Jindong could only remind her again to come home often, and to tell him immediately if anything went wrong.
Su Yue responded sweetly and assured him.
Meanwhile, in the hospital, Xie Fei lay groaning on the bed, one leg wrapped tightly in plaster and suspended from above.
The anesthetic had worn off. Every breath hurt.
Last night, after leaving the bar with Zeng Cheng, they had been ambushed while retrieving their car. Their attackers were no ordinary thugs—silent, efficient, brutal. For a moment, Xie Fei had genuinely thought he would die.
“Dad, it was Jiang Ci! He must’ve sent those people!” Xie Fei slammed the bed rail, his face contorted with rage. “He’s blind, abandoned by the Jiang family—how dare he touch me? You have to help me get back at him!”
Xie Zhenan’s hand flew up and smacked him on the head. “Shut up!”
“Dad?” Xie Fei stared at him, stunned.
“You’re crying about being wronged? Do you know who Jiang Ci is?” Xie Zhenan looked like he could explode. “No one in this city dares to touch him. And you went to provoke him?”
Xie Fei gritted his teeth. “That was before. Now he’s just a blind cripple. Why should the Xie family be afraid of him?”
“You idiot,” Xie Zhenan hissed. “You’ve really done it now.”
Xie Zhenan pointed at Xie Fei’s trembling hand, his voice trembling with suppressed fury. His whole body was taut with rage, and if not for the self-restraint drilled into him by years of experience, he would have slapped his foolish son awake on the spot.
“You think Jiang Ci is blind, so you can bully him however you like? You think he’s powerless just because he’s offended a bunch of people and is lying low now? Let me ask you—do you take those people for fools? Why do you think no one’s dared to retaliate? Even if the Jiang family sidelines him, they still give him whatever he wants!”
Xie Fei’s lips twisted with confusion. “A blind man… what’s there to be afraid of?”
Xie Zhenan’s chest heaved. He clenched his fists and gnashed his teeth. “Because Jiang Ci holds thirty percent of Hengyuan Group’s shares. That’s more than even Old Master Jiang himself.” He narrowed his eyes at his son, voice seething. “Why do you think the Jiang family still walks on eggshells around him? You broke your leg this time, and I can only pray he lets it go. Otherwise, the Xie family might not even survive what comes next!”
His voice rose at the end, harsh and bitter, echoing through the room like a warning bell. There was already unrest in the air—if Jiang Ci decided to act further, the consequences would be catastrophic.
“Dad… I didn’t know…” Xie Fei finally whispered, face pale, his tone a mix of grievance and fear. But even more than his injury, he was afraid of what Jiang Ci might do next.
Xie Zhenan exhaled heavily. His features softened with helplessness. “You’ll stay in the hospital and focus on recovering. Once you’re better, go abroad for a while. Don’t come back until I say so.” He paused, then murmured, almost to himself, “It’s my fault. I’ve been so buried in the company that I failed to discipline my own son…”
—
That night, Su Yue laid a brand-new pillow at the head of the bed. Her eyes involuntarily drifted toward the man lying silently beside her. Jiang Ci lay flat on his back, his face blank, eyes closed. The scar tracing down the left side of his face, usually so fierce under daylight, looked softened under the warm yellow bedside lamp, as though the night had tamed his edge just slightly.
Su Yue’s mind echoed with her father’s words earlier that day. She had initially wanted Father Su to help vent her frustrations on her behalf, but to her surprise, he had already taken action. According to him, the men who had wronged Jiang Ci had all had their limbs broken. Yet their families hadn’t dared to utter a single word of complaint—too afraid that provoking Jiang Ci would bring down even worse upon them.
Her heart gave a frightened little tremble.
She remembered how Jiang Ci had been described in the book. Lately, relying on the golden finger that let her know when Jiang Ci was angry, she’d grown complacent. She’d started to treat him like someone petty and easy to coax—someone she could soften with a slice of mango cake and a few sweet words. She’d even found him cute.
But she had been wrong.
Jiang Ci was still Jiang Ci. He didn’t need a knife or a gun. All it took was a flick of his fingers to make people disappear. If she pushed the wrong button… if she truly angered him…
She might not survive.
“What are you staring at me for?” A lazy yet unmistakably clear voice shattered the silence.
Su Yue jolted in surprise. Was he… that perceptive?
Her fingers dug nervously into the bedsheet. She quickly lowered her gaze, voice soft like a whisper, “I wasn’t looking at you.”
“Lie.” Jiang Ci didn’t even open his eyes. The corners of his lips curled faintly in mockery. “Don’t think you can fool me just because I’m blind.”
Heh. Who dared bully him just because he couldn’t see? Did they have a death wish?
No… those men at the hotel had tried—and they paid for it with broken limbs.
Su Yue fell quiet.
Father Su had said not to provoke Jiang Ci, and she intended to heed his advice. She figured that as long as she didn’t anger him and maybe baked him a few more mango cakes like usual, everything would be fine.
Jiang Ci didn’t seem to mind her silence. He gave a long, lazy yawn, then slapped his hand lightly against the empty space beside him. “Come sleep over here.”
“Huh?” Su Yue blinked in surprise, unsure if she’d heard right.
“I want to sleep with you in my arms.” Jiang Ci’s tone was completely natural, as if asking to borrow a glass of water. He didn’t even try to mask the audacity. “Won’t you give me a hug?”
Su Yue was wearing a brand-new set of silk pajamas, a soft aqua blue. The short-sleeved set left her arms and legs exposed under the summer heat. Her complexion had turned porcelain fair in recent weeks, and under the gentle light, her slender limbs glowed. Her long, dark hair cascaded softly down her back, framing a face that had grown more delicate and beautiful with time.
She hugged her knees tightly to her chest, her small face resting atop them. Hearing his words, her brows pinched together. Her limpid eyes carefully studied Jiang Ci’s blank expression before she asked hesitantly, “If I don’t hug you… will you be angry?”
“Yes,” Jiang Ci replied immediately, lifting the corners of his lips in a half-smile. “I’ll definitely be angry if you don’t.”
Of course, Su Yue had noticed he cared deeply about whether she upset him.
She hesitated just a moment longer before slowly unfolding her arms and crawling across the bed. Her soft, warm body leaned toward him cautiously.
As soon as she was close enough, Jiang Ci turned. With a swift motion, he reached out and pulled her into his arms.
A light, milky scent wafted from her hair and clothes, and his brows relaxed in contentment. With his large hands, he tightened his hold slightly, pulling her even closer.
But the next second, Jiang Ci’s fingers brushed against her trembling hand. His tone changed abruptly—cold, sharp, laced with danger. “Are you afraid of me?”
Su Yue could barely suppress the slight tremor in her body. She forced herself to soften, to lean closer rather than shrink away. Her voice came out low and tight, “No.”
His hand brushed the ends of her silky hair, playing with the strands absentmindedly, his fingers curling and uncurling.
“Then…” he paused, his tone suddenly laced with hurt, “you must find me disgusting.”
He meant his face. His eyes. His scars.
People always said he was hideous. Worthless. A monster in the dark.
He gave a low, displeased snort. “I’m this ugly… you really have the nerve to dislike me?”
Su Yue: “…”
She stared at the man who held her so firmly, his grip strong, his scent faintly lingering in her nose. A thousand thoughts flashed through her mind, but in that moment, her heart beat just a little faster—not from fear, but from something else entirely.
Something she couldn’t quite name yet.