Cen Yingshuang watched as He Yuzhou picked the fruit from the two-hundred-year-old Longevity Fruit Tree.
“Can you really pick it?”
As she heard the crisp “snap” when it was plucked, Cen Yingshuang’s heart tightened. She immediately looked around to see if there was a third person present.
Even if this was originally a wild apple tree, it was now growing in the Castle’s Garden. If she picked the fruit without the owner’s permission, would there be any trouble?
Seeing her so cautious and nervous, He Yuzhou couldn’t help but let out a laugh from his nose.
“I’m here. What are you afraid of?”
As soon as he said this, Cen Yingshuang visibly relaxed.
How could she forget?
With He Yuzhou’s status, let alone picking an apple, even buying the entire Castle would be a piece of cake for him.
Thinking of this, she felt no psychological burden at all and happily took the apple He Yuzhou handed her.
“Why are you picking it?”
“Didn’t you want to know if there’s something special about it?”
He Yuzhou still wore a lazy smile at the corners of his lips, as if amused by her childlike innocence and candid words.
“Immortality, extraordinary powers?”
She hadn’t expected him to remember her offhand comment.
As he spoke, Cen Yingshuang popped the lollipop back in her mouth, then cupped the apple with both hands.
It was a very large apple, heavy in her hands.
The color was a deep, rich red, nothing like the processed, waxed apples found on the market.
This was the natural color.
Cen Yingshuang held the apple, inspecting it from every angle, utterly focused and holding her breath.
She didn’t know why, but she suddenly got goosebumps all over.
Maybe it was just the thought of holding a fruit from a two-hundred-year-old apple tree that made it feel so magical.
The hairs on her arms stood up, and she instinctively shivered.
“Cold?”
Before she could respond to He Yuzhou’s voice, a gentle weight pressed onto her shoulders, instantly enveloping her in warmth—the warmth of a body.
He had taken off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.
“No, I’m not cold…”
Cen Yingshuang shook her head as she tried to take off the coat, but the weight on her shoulders only increased.
It was his hand pressing down, stopping her from removing it.
“Even if you’re not cold, wear it.”
He Yuzhou’s expression was as relaxed and calm as always, but his actions and tone left no room for argument.
Then, worried he might have come off too forceful and startled the little white rabbit he’d been quietly coveting, he softened his tone and added, “The temperature difference between day and night is big here, especially by the sea. It’s easy to catch a chill.”
As he spoke, his hand was still on her shoulder, the pressure seeming to tighten bit by bit.
Before he put his coat on her, she had only been wearing a crew-neck sweatshirt, the neckline just covering her collarbone, leaving her slender swan neck exposed.
Even through the fabric, he could feel the shape of her bones.
Her frame was small, her shoulders thin—he could almost picture the graceful line of her collarbone in his mind.
So delicate that he couldn’t apply too much force, as if she might break at the slightest touch.
Inside, two opposing forces wrestled with each other: one warned him that this fragile little body couldn’t withstand any rough handling, the other was a perverse urge to destroy what was weak.
A few slow seconds passed before he finally regained his sense of proportion and withdrew his hand.
But the hand that had touched her shoulder quietly curled up, the fingertips slowly rubbing together.
His throat felt tight, with a strange, inexplicable itch.
Even breathing became difficult, so he quietly parted his lips to draw in more air, suppressing the restless urge rising inside him.
“What about you?”
His gentlemanly act might have been out of courtesy and upbringing, but Cen Yingshuang still felt a bit uneasy.
After all, the temperature at night in Italy was only a bit over ten degrees.
“Aren’t you cold?”
Without his coat, He Yuzhou wore only a light gray knit sweater on top, paired with white casual trousers. The light colors made him look gentle and refined.
His sweater was thin, clinging faintly to his skin, outlining his muscles underneath.
Cen Yingshuang knew he had a great figure—muscular and strong. She’d seen him in a wetsuit before, after all.
But now, up close, everything was clear and obvious.
From any angle, subjective or objective, there was only one answer: his physique was truly outrageously good.
It wasn’t the currently popular “slim-fit” look, but an obvious, overwhelming masculinity that practically overflowed, with muscles so developed you could see them even through his clothes.
His frame was large, his chest thick, the muscle fibers different from ordinary people, reminiscent of a European build.
His arms were thick, and even the loose knit sweater was filled out to the brim, showing the ridges of his abs.
His upper body was so strong and vigorous, yet his waist was surprisingly narrow, leading down to a pair of impossibly long legs.
He was tall, so even with such exaggerated muscles, nothing looked out of place—everything was perfectly balanced.
The light-colored outfit and silver-rimmed glasses gave him a scholarly air, but the contradiction was that his cropped hair and physique radiated a raw, masculine energy, an aura of a wild lion and surging male hormones.
It was Cen Yingshuang’s first time seeing such a “ceiling-level” physique.
She couldn’t help but complain inwardly—what window had fate closed for him, really?
“I’m not cold.”
He Yuzhou gripped his coat collar, wrapping it more snugly around her.
“As long as you wear it, that’s enough.”
All her attention had been on the apple, but now, with him wrapping the coat tighter around her, she was completely enveloped.
His scent from the coat rushed in instantly.
She hesitated for a second, then lowered her head, pressing her nose to the collar and sniffing carefully.
She could tell this perfume was aquatic, not the kind that overwhelms you before you even get close, but so light that you only notice it when you’re near or brushing past—subtle, lingering, and very comfortable.
She was sure—it was the perfume she endorsed.
But then she realized something crucial: this was women’s perfume.
Why would he use women’s perfume?
There was only one possibility.
Looking up at He Yuzhou, she was full of surprise: “Your girlfriend uses the perfume I endorse!”
He wasn’t surprised that she recognized the scent as her own endorsement. He’d expected her to guess.
He Yuzhou stood in front of her, his posture relaxing, shoulders still broad.
One hand in his pocket, he tilted his head slightly, looking at her with a mixture of scrutiny and amusement.
“I’ve never had a girlfriend.”
That answer truly surprised Cen Yingshuang, overturning her assumptions.
With He Yuzhou’s family background, personal ability, and looks, he was outstanding in every way. How could he not have dated before?
Cen Yingshuang blinked dryly, silent for a long moment before finally asking, “Can I ask how old you are this year?”
“Twenty-eight,” He Yuzhou replied.
She was clearly startled at first—he was only twenty-eight? So young.
But then her thoughts shifted to doubt—twenty-eight and never had a girlfriend?
He Yuzhou clearly saw the changes in her expression, how her soft, pink lips opened and closed as if she wanted to say something but hesitated, ending up saying nothing at all.
With a lollipop in her mouth, her cheek bulged out like a chipmunk hoarding food.
“What is it?” He Yuzhou asked. “If you have something to say, just say it.”
Cen Yingshuang shifted her lollipop from left to right, hesitated, but still didn’t speak.
“Weren’t you quite expressive just now?”
He Yuzhou’s tone was gentle as a stream, patiently guiding her.
“Say what you want to say. Don’t waste this time in your life when you should speak your mind freely.”
He’d meant it as praise, but this time her thoughts were a bit impolite.
Even though she knew He Yuzhou was approachable, that didn’t mean she could pry into his privacy.
“So what age can’t people speak their mind anymore?”
As it turned out, He Yuzhou’s words were indeed very leading, successfully piquing her curiosity, so she followed up with a question.
“I can’t speak for others.”
She was a flower in a greenhouse, probably unaware of the complexities of society and human nature. How could he bear to destroy her fairy-tale world? He gave a vague answer, then changed the subject, “But you can always do so—at least in front of me.”
He paused for half a second, worried she might feel pressured, and added sincerely, “I’m pretty easygoing, so you don’t need to worry.”
His attitude was humble, his smile benevolent, as if his tolerance could accept anything, his shrug relaxed and a bit roguishly humorous.
Little did she know, if anyone else heard this, they’d be shocked.
He Yuzhou was indeed polite and well-mannered, but he was definitely not as “easygoing” as he claimed.
Aside from family, everyone else was always cautious, afraid to offend him.
Cen Yingshuang, ever so naïve, believed it completely.
She was successfully led where he wanted, letting down her guard.
She made a little “hummm” sound, like a thinking calf, organized her words, and finally said, “Because you look like someone with a broom-red string above your head, like every strand of your hair has a girlfriend.”
Her utterly absurd statement made He Yuzhou laugh so hard his shoulders shook. He looked down at her, “Do I really look that unreliable?”
“No…”
Cen Yingshuang instinctively denied it.
But after denying, she didn’t say anything more.
With only those two weak words, He Yuzhou thought she’d at least try to explain further, but hearing nothing, he pressed, “That’s it?”
Cen Yingshuang nodded slowly.
He Yuzhou couldn’t help but laugh again, his tone calm yet serious, “People don’t have to be in a relationship. It’s all about personal values.”
Cen Yingshuang looked up at him, listening intently, her eyes clear and bright, like a kitten being trained.
A glimmer of light appeared in He Yuzhou’s eyes, turning deep and gentle.
He suppressed the urge to pat her head, giving a meaningful next line, “But that doesn’t mean I won’t have a girlfriend in the future.”
“Of course, only one.”
He seemed to emphasize, “No matter how much hair I have, there will only be one.”
“…”
Cen Yingshuang couldn’t help but laugh—she hadn’t expected him to be so good at picking up a joke.
But she found his words a bit dizzying and didn’t take them seriously.
She nodded slowly in polite agreement with his so-called values.
But the little stubborn one was still hung up on the perfume.
“But you’re using women’s perfume.”
“Hmm? Don’t be sexist—who says men can’t use women’s perfume?”
He Yuzhou’s laughter rumbled in his chest. He couldn’t help but lift his arm and lightly tapped her head with his finger, gently guiding her, “Think about it another way—maybe it was your excellence that made me buy this perfume?”