Xu Ying gazed at Huo Chen, her mind was blank, as though all thought had been gently wiped away the moment his fingers brushed against her skin. His hands, warm and firm, slid along her waist, then up to the nape of her neck with feather-light pressure. A tingling sensation sparked at the soles of her feet, rising like a wave through her body, curling around her spine, seizing her breath.
Her heart stuttered.
Before she could process the pull between them, her arms moved on their own—wrapping around his neck, drawing him in. Their lips met again, this time deeper, hungrier, fueled by the quiet flame that had been simmering far too long. He held her as though he couldn’t bear the thought of letting go, his other hand returning to her waist before slowly trailing up again. The soft scrape of his calloused fingers sent a shiver through her, a low current of need curling in her belly.
In that moment, Huo Chen was no longer a man —he was a storm, overwhelming and consuming, and she, dangerously willing to be swept away.
But then—abruptly—he broke away.
With a sharp breath, Huo Chen jerked back. His eyes, still dark and heavy with restrained desire, met hers. They lingered, tense and searching. Then, without a word, he pinched her cheek lightly—a grounding gesture, almost teasing—and turned on his heel, swiftly exiting the room.
The cold winter air slapped him in the face the second he stepped outside. He didn’t hesitate. Reaching the water basin, he splashed his face over and over, the icy sting biting into his skin as he fought to clear the haze clouding his mind.
Inside, Xu Ying sat frozen.
Reality seeped back in, slow and cold, like the winter wind leaking through an open window. Her cheeks still burned from his touch, but her thoughts were sharp again—too sharp. Regret surged up, twisting in her chest. How had she let herself lose control so easily?
Beauty, she thought bitterly, was indeed a dangerous illusion—soft, sweet, and utterly disarming.
When Huo Chen re-entered the room, he saw Xu Ying’s flushed face, so tempting that he wanted to devour her again . Seeing him glaring at her so ferociusly again “I-I’m going to cook,” Xu Ying stammered, her cheeks now burning as she turned to light the stove. In her nervousness, she stumbled over a stool, pitching forward. Huo Chen reacted instantly, pulling her into his arms with one swift motion.
At that very moment, Gu Fuying burst into the room with Wu Qingsong. “We didn’t see anything, just keep going!” Gu Fuying exclaimed, covering her face in mock shyness, then tugging Wu Qingsong to retreat.
Xu Ying sprang out of Huo Chen’s embrace, calling out to Gu Fuying, “What are you talking about? I just tripped over a stool, and Huo Chen caught me! I’m about to cook. You and Wu Qingsong should stay and eat!”
The mention of food immediately stopped Gu Fuying. She turned to Wu Qingsong, a hopeful glint in her eyes. “You’re not in a bad mood, are you? How about we have a drink with you?”
A slight easing of the tension in Wu Qingsong’s brow suggested a long-suppressed burden. He looked up, a faint smile gracing his lips. “Okay.”
Huo Chen didn’t object. He felt a flicker of sympathy for Wu Qingsong, perhaps because he now had Xu Ying by his side.
“Yingying, what can I do to help?” Gu Fuying peered into the kitchen, her head poking around as if searching for something to do. Then, with an eager volunteering spirit, she added, “Yingying, let me help you light the fire.”
Xu Ying glanced at Huo Chen and nodded. “You two, please clean up the table and set it up for the food .” She had been eating out in restaurant in the past , and any cooking she did herself was usually in her personal “space.” The dining table was purely decorative in this house , now covered in a layer of dust.
Huo Chen led Wu Qingsong out of the house after the cleanup . “Brother Chen, I’m going to buy some wine for the dinner ,” Wu Qingsong mumbled, his eyes shadowed with dark circles, a clear sign of sleepless nights. Huo Chen nodded, accompanying him.
In the kitchen, Xu Ying and Gu Fuying worked in tandem, lighting the fire and preparing the meal. Xu Ying cooked some of her favorites: a rich beer-braised duck, a hearty plate of spicy chicken, a comforting fish soup, and a side of fried peanuts, along with a few cold appetizers. Dinner was soon ready.
“It smells incredible!” Gu Fuying exclaimed, swallowing hard, her face alight with delight.
“Dinner’s ready!” Xu Ying called out, carrying plates of food from the kitchen. Gu Fuying followed, helping to ferry the dishes.
“My sister-in-law’s cooking is so delicious,” Wu Qingsong sighed contentedly. “Brother Chen would be so happy if he married her.”
Gu Fuying’s heart fluttered at his words. “What’s wrong, are you envious?” she teased.
Wu Qingsong chuckled. “Not exactly. If my future wife could cook like this, I’d come home every day just for her food.”
“Wouldn’t you get bored?” Gu Fuying joked.
Wu Qingsong’s eyes widened playfully. “Bored? Never! If she’s my wife, she’ll be my most cherished treasure. I’d never tire of her, not for a lifetime!”
Gu Fuying’s face inexplicably flushed. Her little scheme exposed, she quickly retorted, “Mind your own business! I want to cook for just for my own man, and it’s none of your concern!”
Wu Qingsong offered a self-deprecating smile, picking up his wine glass and taking a large gulp. So, when you truly loved someone, you were willing to sacrifice. He, it seemed, held no significant place in Lancao’s heart. Otherwise, when Sister-in-law Lancao was unsure of his fate, she wouldn’t have so readily abandoned him.
Gu Fuying, unaware of what had upset him, grew anxious as she saw him drinking with reddened eyes. “Wu Qingsong, what’s wrong? If I said something wrong, I apologize. I’m sorry.”
Wu Qingsong waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine. I’m not angry with you. I’m just… wondering what’s wrong with me.”
Xu Ying looked at Huo Chen, a question in her eyes. “What’s going on with him?”
“It’s still about Sister-in-law Lancao,” Huo Chen explained softly.
The mention of Zhang Lancao reminded Xu Ying that Lancao’s sister-in-law had asked her to deliver a message to Wu Qingsong. “Wu Qingsong,” Xu Ying began gently, “Sister-in-law Lancao asked me to tell you something. She said you two aren’t suitable. She has children, and she can’t be with you.” The words were difficult to utter, so blunt and painful. Her mother at home often marveled at Lancao’s sister-in-law’s good fortune, how even after her husband’s death, she was left with a devoted younger brother. To her mother, that was true affection. Any good fortune, anything good that came along, always went to Lancao first. Xu Ying had heard it countless times and had always been curious about Zhang Lancao’s younger brother. Now, she understood the heartbreaking truth. She felt a pang of sympathy for Wu Qingsong.
Wu Qingsong listened, not needing to hear more, for he had already received a letter from Sister Lancao himself. He grabbed the wine bottle, drinking deeply, desperately trying to drown the frustration that had gnawed at him for days. He muttered, almost to himself, almost to them:
“I lost my parents when I was a child, leaving just my younger sister and me. I was fifteen, she was ten. Our relatives, they didn’t help us; they just waited to mock us. To survive, my sister and I chewed on tree bark, ate dirt, even stole just to get by. Once, my sister fell ill, and I had no choice but to steal money. But I’d never done anything like that before, and I was caught immediately. The man who later became Lancao’s husband, he didn’t send me to the police station. Instead, he gave me money for my sister’s medicine. I swore then that my life belonged to him, my brother, in this life. My brother was kind and honest, but God was unfair and took him too soon. As you know, my brother’s mother always cherished her youngest son.”