“Lin Zhishui, my wife, I…”
Lin Zhishui’s mind was filled with Ning Shangyu’s words, so blunt and direct that she couldn’t help but replay them over and over.
It wasn’t until she returned home that the heat burning on her cheeks—like she’d been lightly teased—finally began to cool and settle.
Under the worried and confused gazes of A Yang and the others, Lin Zhishui, afraid they’d notice anything unusual, hurried straight upstairs without looking back.
She felt sweaty all over.
The feeling of her damp clothes clinging to her skin was unbearable.
As soon as she entered the master bedroom, she quickly changed out of them.
For a few moments, her gaze lingered on the discarded clothes.
Her clear eyes flashed with a hint of strangeness, and she seemed distracted for a while.
In her mind, those unforgettable, molten amber eyes floated up again.
The next instant—
Lin Zhishui instinctively wanted to hide them away, as if they were something shameful.
Her body acted on its own, her toes stepping into the pile of dresses, still faintly damp with sweat.
Stop thinking about it!
Just change clothes.
It must be the weather—too hot, that’s all.
Right, which dress should she wear?
Just then, a knocking sound interrupted her thoughts.
Lin Zhishui walked over and casually grabbed the robe at the foot of her bed, draping it over herself.
The snowy fabric made her skin look even paler.
Outside the door, under the corridor’s light, A Yang handed her a phone and gestured, “Madam is calling.”
Lin Zhishui paused for a moment, then answered and switched it to speaker.
Sheng Mingying went straight to the point, “I heard you went straight upstairs as soon as you got home. Was it because you didn’t like that man?”
Lin Zhishui knew that every move she made was reported to Sheng Mingying by Er Baoshen, so she deliberately kept silent, lips pressed together.
Her earlobes were still flushed, the color spreading down her slender neck and shoulders.
She slowly loosened the robe’s collar, craving a bit of coolness.
“He’s a very ambitious man,” Sheng Mingying gave an objective evaluation of Ning Shangyu.
“As the head of a top financial conglomerate, he didn’t inherit his position by birth right, but by sheer ability. In the Mingli Field, almost no one can stand as his equal. He’s clean, disciplined. Only such a man can keep you in line.”
Lin Zhishui spoke softly, “You rarely praise others.”
“The Marriage Contract is set. In the future, he’ll be your closest companion, not a stranger.”
Sheng Mingying’s words reminded her to take this marriage seriously, then added meaningfully, “Be good, and get along well with him.”
Lin Zhishui’s heart fluttered slightly.
She asked, “Does this mean I can go out as I please now?”
Sheng Mingying smiled, easily seeing through her thoughts, but didn’t restrict her further with motherly authority.
Instead, she pointed out, “Only if he invites you out, can you leave.”
It took Lin Zhishui a while to fully process her mother’s meaning.
So, coming of age meant growing up.
But after growing up, her Guardian Rights and her freedom to go out would be handed over from the Lin Family to Ning Shangyu.
All this time, Lin Zhishui had been sheltered at home, seemingly pampered and carefree, but her days were dull and lonely.
Her only joy came from the precious boxes of books and beautiful, shimmering fabrics left by her late father.
She loved making all sorts of little dresses, wearing them in private.
Lately, Lin Zhishui had become obsessed with a type of fabric as thin as cicada wings, silky beyond compare—perfect for a nightgown.
But that fabric, Lost Silk, had long since disappeared, and she had never been allowed out to search for it.
Otherwise, she’d be seen as frivolous and lacking ambition.
Now that her mother had said this, her freedom to make dresses depended entirely on Ning Shangyu.
He probably wouldn’t treat her like her mother did, as if she were some fragile porcelain, not even allowed out the door… right?
Summoning her optimism, Lin Zhishui thought things through, and decided to contact her new “guardian.”
She glanced at the clock.
It was already ten at night.
He’s probably asleep.
Well… I’ll ask tomorrow.
No rush.
Little Fuzhi’s freedom!
It’s coming soon.
That night, Lin Zhishui couldn’t stop thinking about that batch of Lost Silk, thin as cicada wings.
The real thing must feel even smoother than what was described in books.
Yet as soon as her head hit the pillow, it was as if she was pushed into a dream.
Half asleep, half awake, Lin Zhishui felt as though she were wrapped in a piece of silky, clinging fabric.
What was this?
Lost Silk?
She tried to reach out and feel it, but the fabric only tightened, refusing to let her go.
While she was flustered, the end of the thin fabric seemed to gather a basket of golden fire, and suddenly, a scorching heat traced up from her snowy white ankle.
The corners of Lin Zhishui’s eyes gradually turned red.
She felt as if flames were suddenly burning across her skin, the fire growing fiercer and fiercer.
She began to struggle clumsily and in panic, trying to break free.
…Such a huge flame.
When she woke, Lin Zhishui felt as if she’d just survived a real ordeal.
Her body was drenched in sweat.
She blinked and saw that it was already bright outside.
She clutched her thin Jade Silk blanket, curled up in the darkened room.
Her nightdress was messily piled on her knees as she sat up.
For a moment, Lin Zhishui froze awkwardly, her expression stunned.
Sheng Minghua had hired renowned teachers for her, but when it came to physiological matters, she’d only allowed A Yang to mention, in the vaguest way, a wife’s duties.
To put it plainly, she’d never received any real education in that area, and her understanding was extremely limited.
This was the first time Lin Zhishui felt such confusion and longing for something unknown.
In the morning, Lin Zhishui, who never slept in, got up a whole hour late.
Sitting at the dining table, she suddenly noticed that the vase on the table had been changed from fresh flowers to a bunch of pink Peach Blossom branches.
A Yang gestured smoothly, “These Peach Blossom branches were brought by A Qin, blessed in front of the Guanyin Bodhisattva, to bring you luck in love and ensure a happy marriage.”
Lin Zhishui was already immune to her godmothers’ superstitions.
She touched her brow with her fingers.
“Did you not sleep well?”
A Yang looked at her anxiously, pointing at her face and eyes, then gestured, “You’re a bit red. Did you kick off your blanket again? You look like you have a fever.”
Lin Zhishui’s eyes, as clear and beautiful as glass, always turned red easily when she didn’t sleep well, making her fair skin flush with pink.
Especially if she was willful and stayed up a bit late, the next day she’d look as if she’d cried all night under her covers.
She quietly put down her hand.
It was easy enough to explain she wasn’t sick, but not this state.
Lin Zhishui chose to give up struggling, and suddenly remembered her main task.
She changed the topic, “A Yang, please ask Mother for Ning Shangyu’s private number for me.”
A Yang touched her forehead, found her temperature normal, and gestured, “Private number?”
Lin Zhishui tilted her head, her chin deliberately pointing at the budding Peach Blossom, and deliberately drew out her words, “Well, the Bodhisattva has shown her spirit—I’m planning to ask him out.”
Since it was for cultivating feelings, A Yang worked with impressive efficiency.
Lin Zhishui had barely finished a cup of hot milk before she received the number.
Lin Zhishui moved to a sunny spot, settling into the sofa so the light shone through her pale fingers and onto her phone screen.
Just as she was about to send a message, she hesitated.
How could she open the conversation without sounding awkward or too purposeful?
Her fingers hovered for a full ten seconds before she nervously typed:
[Ning Mister, good morning.]
[I have a very important question to ask you. Are you available?]
Lin Zhishui waited patiently for five minutes, then glanced at A Yang, her voice soft, “He hasn’t replied yet. Is this the right contact?”
Seeing her a bit disappointed, A Yang signed, “It’s correct. He’s probably busy.”
Well, of course.
Truly a man with a million things to do every day.
Her patience was running thin.
She continued typing, [Do you have any requirements for your future wife, for example, regarding how she dresses?]
Lin Zhishui simply asked directly, then sat up straight, phone in hand, her heart swelling with emotion like a glass vessel filled to the brim—one more drop and it would overflow.
Fortunately, this time she only had to wait half an hour.
Her phone finally vibrated.
She opened it instantly.
On the screen were two concise words, [None.]
So few words.
Before Lin Zhishui could even smile, her phone vibrated again.
To her surprise, Ning Shangyu added a few more, [Wear whatever you want.]
Afraid she’d miss her chance, Lin Zhishui hurried to reply, worried he’d get busy again.
She treasured this opportunity to communicate and asked, [Then can I eat whatever I want?]
Ning Shangyu replied with two more words, [Your freedom.]
Lin Zhishui’s eyes, clear as crystal, reflected each word perfectly.
She couldn’t help but reach out and touch the words on the screen, suddenly remembering how hard it used to be to get even a little indulgence from her pragmatic mother.
But now, Lin Zhishui, like a sensitive little animal, could sense Ning Shangyu’s complete lack of restrictions on her.
Thinking about it this way…
Having her Guardian Rights transferred to him didn’t seem so bad anymore.
Knowing not to push her luck, Lin Zhishui didn’t type again.
Instead, she sent a voice message, “Can you ask me out? My mother said I can only go out if you invite me.”
Her clean, gentle voice echoed in the top-floor office of the Ning Family Tower.
Ning Shangyu sat in his office chair, wearing a thin shirt today that accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist.
He calmly rolled up his cuffs.
His expression was composed, betraying not a ripple at her straightforward “date” request.
But—
He tapped the voice message again with his long finger and listened to it once more.
Xi Yan, ever cautious, asked, “Should I add your date with Miss Lin to the priority schedule?”
Ning Shangyu set his private phone on the desk, his tone indifferent, “What do you think?”
Xi Yan understood, and dutifully marked it as a key appointment.
***
A few days later.
The sky over Si Cheng was completely dark, the heavy night like a beast lurking in the shadows, shrouding the Jinrong Building.
Inside the panoramic glass, the lights glittered luxuriously, reflecting the silhouettes of ambitious men overlooking the world.
Ning Shangyu had been extremely busy recently, just finishing a highly confidential business meeting.
After the meeting, as he exited the conference hall, many suited elites watched him with respect, all eager to curry favour, but none daring to get too close to this true favoured son of heaven.
In private, the elite circles had long whispered that Ning Shangyu was a man obsessed with power—abstinent, extremely rational, hard line and aggressive in his daily dealings, making it impossible for anyone to get close or win his favor.
Yet everyone knew that while Ning Shangyu dominated the business world, those from similarly wealthy families only ever spent their time in endless parties on luxury yachts—none of them could compare to him in the slightest.
He had every right to move at his own pace.
This kind of presence drew people in, regardless of gender.
Even if all they could do was watch his back from afar, they still hoped to catch a glimpse of the golden world woven by power and desire.
Walking down the corridor to the elevator—
Xi Yan suddenly checked the schedule, “Ning President, you have no engagements or meetings after two-thirty tomorrow. Shall I arrange for you to meet Miss Lin in the Gang District?”
Ning Shangyu turned his head, the pin on his suit lapel reflecting a cold, dazzling light.
His expression was subtle, as if he was finally thinking of Lin Zhishui.
***
Lin Zhishui was learning from A Qin and the others, praying to the Guanyin Bodhisattva for help.
After her remote conversation with Ning Shangyu, she had been eagerly waiting for several days, hoping he’d show some kindness, but there was no news.
She even began to wonder if Ning Shangyu disliked this marriage.
Should she send another message?
But that might make her seem too forward.
As she slowly lit incense and bowed before the altar, she weighed the importance of dignity versus getting to go out, trying to decide what mattered more.
A Li entered the incense-filled Buddha hall and gestured, “Good news, the Ning Family’s secretary called. They’ll pick you up tomorrow.”
Lin Zhishui looked surprised—she hadn’t expected the Bodhisattva to answer her prayers so quickly.
Last time, the meeting place had been set by Ning Shangyu.
This time, for fairness’ sake, Lin Zhishui would choose.
The next day, Lin Zhishui was finally allowed out.
Outside, the sun was blazing, casting her shadow as if she’d just stepped into a world of steel and glass—a little animal, startled and eager to scurry back to her den at any moment.
After a quick prayer, Lin Zhishui resolutely descended the steps.
A man in a suit was already waiting by the Rolls-Royce, opening the door and gesturing politely, “Miss Lin, please.”
Lin Zhishui got in the car, glancing up by chance—and froze.
In the back seat sat Ning Shangyu, his presence impossible to ignore.
He seemed relaxed and casual, but in the enclosed space, his nearly 1.9-meter frame radiated a subtle pressure, making her breathing falter.
She had guessed he might be inside, but seeing him in person still left her momentarily stunned.
Without moving, Ning Shangyu calmly said, “Aren’t you going to sit down?”
“Ah… okay.”
Lin Zhishui finally came to her senses.
Hesitating between the seat beside him and the one ahead, she quickly chose the one diagonally in front.
Once seated, she let out a silent sigh of relief, not forgetting to thank him for coming all the way to the Gang District to pick her up.
She spoke politely, “Thank you for meeting with me.”
Ning Shangyu didn’t respond with the gentlemanly courtesy she expected.
Instead, he said, with an unclear meaning, “You’re sitting so far away. Am I that scary?”
Caught off guard, Lin Zhishui, always quick to blush, reflexively replied, “No, it’s just that sitting too close is… hot.”
She couldn’t let him misunderstand and get offended—what if he refused to meet her again?
Ning Shangyu’s gaze fell on her long dress.
From her slender, delicate neck, he could see her skin was shockingly pale—raised in seclusion by the Lin Family, she’d probably never truly seen the sun.
She had no idea how sunlight could melt her away if she stayed out for long.
She was clearly nervous, her fingers curling slightly on her knees.
Ning Shangyu said nothing.
The car grew even quieter, the silence becoming awkward.
Finally, Xi Yan, sitting in the front, adjusted the air conditioning down a notch, “Miss Lin, are you still hot?”
“Not anymore, thank you.”
Well then…
No more excuses.
Lin Zhishui decided to read the room and obediently moved to sit beside Ning Shangyu.
Then, she took the initiative to tell the “good man” secretary their destination.
Once the car started, she turned to Ning Shangyu and asked, trying to sound casual, “Can we go to a tailor shop for our date?”
Ning Shangyu glanced at her, “A tailor shop? That’s a unique idea.”
Afraid he’d refuse, Lin Zhishui unconsciously adjusted her posture, moving a bit closer.
“It’s a normal thing, isn’t it? Dates are about shopping, buying clothes, seeing a movie…”
“I know it’s inconvenient for you to appear in public, so shopping or movies are out. Let’s just go to a private tailor shop and buy some fabric.”
At the mention of fabric, her eyes sparkled.
Her intentions were clear enough.
Looking at her porcelain-white face, which practically said “I’m so thoughtful,” Ning Shangyu’s thin lips curled into a lazy smile, “Should I thank Miss Lin for being so considerate?”
Lin Zhishui pretended not to catch his implication, “It’s nothing.”
Luckily, Ning Shangyu didn’t make things difficult for her.
After all, to him, the destination hardly mattered.
The secretary understood immediately.
Lin Zhishui’s eyes, beneath her long lashes, glimmered with a hint of a smile.
Her mood was quite good.
Forty minutes later,
The car arrived at their destination, but Lin Zhishui’s heart was entirely focused on the tailor shop.
As she got up, her dress caught on something.
She accidentally stumbled against Ning Shangyu’s broad chest.
So close, his subtle, unique scent enveloped her.
But as soon as she touched him, the sheer strength of his presence made her heart skip in panic, as if she’d been shocked by an intense aura.
Before Lin Zhishui could make a sound, a slender hand caught her waist and gently, swiftly helped her upright.