In the centre of the rectangular coffee table was an inlaid slab of marble, and the box looked as if it were a gemstone embedded within the marble.
Lin Zhishui slowly traced the edges as she sat amidst the fluffy carpet, her clear eyes filled with curiosity at the chance to investigate.
After examining and feeling it up close, her curiosity only grew stronger.
Like a scholar studying a precious tome, her fingertips carefully picked out an ice-blue piece from within, the texture smooth and lustrous like a pearl.
Yet the unfamiliar symbols printed on it were completely obscure and difficult to decipher.
She mainly wanted to check the size…
But no matter how many times Lin Zhishui turned it over and over, she couldn’t find any marked text indicating the size.
Well, then she’d just have to open it.
After all, compared to the exquisitely designed packaging, Lin Zhishui was far more curious about whether Ning Shangyu’s actual size matched international standards.
With that in mind, her hand had already found the sealed seam on the side before she even realized it.
“Lin Zhishui.”
Suddenly, a voice rang out—calm and even—and footsteps followed from upstairs.
Ning Shangyu, fresh from a cold shower and wearing a velvet robe, descended the stairs.
He immediately saw the scene in the living room, his gaze fixed on Lin Zhishui.
She looked like a novice caught red-handed in the act, startled as she lifted her head at the sound, lips slightly parted to reveal a glimpse of snowy white teeth.
The next second, she still had no idea how much of a visual impact her current appearance had.
Ning Shangyu quickly withdrew his gaze but reminded her in a teasing tone, “That thing isn’t edible.”
Lin Zhishui had originally planned to open it while no one was looking.
This was the first time she’d seen such a thing, and she was genuinely curious—she never intended to eat it; after all, she didn’t have pica!
Ning Shangyu’s words startled her into a reflexive reaction, and she immediately put the item back in the box, hurriedly clarifying, “I’m not that desperate.”
Afraid he wouldn’t believe her, she quickly and firmly emphasized, “I didn’t!”
Ning Shangyu walked over, poured himself a glass of water, and sat comfortably on the wide sofa.
He spoke casually, “Yeah, you don’t look like it. The records didn’t say Lin Miss has pica.”
“Even if I had pica, I wouldn’t eat this!”
Lin Zhishui, seeing he was so close, simply got up from the carpet—her legs had gone numb—and flopped straight onto the sofa.
Even as she tried to clear her name, she couldn’t help but add a small complaint about a certain someone’s tyrannical behaviour, “You’re the one who had your secretary prepare a huge box of these, and now you have the nerve to tell me not to eat them.”
Ning Shangyu finished his water before laughing.
The hint of a smile on his sharp, handsome face was enough to leave an impression for a long time.
“Lin Miss, I had them prepared for use.”
Lin Zhishui was left speechless by his bluntness.
But soon after, Ning Shangyu uncharacteristically contradicted his own words.
His thoughtful gaze swept over the shimmering box for two seconds before he said, “Well, it’s not like you won’t get the chance.”
Lin Zhishui suddenly realized—she could never out-argue him.
Pica? So what if she had pica.
She’d already experienced even his… so why be embarrassed about being teased for eating something else?
With that thought, Lin Zhishui forgot all about the cold war she’d declared on the plane.
She lifted her previously blushing face, as if smeared with red paint, and softly requested, “Then, could you use one for me to see right now?”
Ning Shangyu looked at her calmly.
“Lin Xiaopao, I’m not an actor.”
The meaning was clear: he wouldn’t perform for her.
So annoying.
But she was different.
Lin Zhishui pretended not to hear, and boldly raised her right hand.
“I can help you.”
Her fingers were slender and fair, waving earnestly in front of him, as she added with a trailing tone, “Let me open one for you.”
This way, in broad daylight, she could see it clearly.
Ning Shangyu’s gaze fell on her expectant face, and this was no different from openly making advances.
So, before she could finish her show of devotion, Ning Shangyu wrapped his strong arms around her and lifted her up right there in broad daylight.
Both having showered, they smelled faintly of the same bath fragrance, mingled with another gradually familiar cool cedar scent, all of which seemed to settle on Lin Zhishui’s face, making her long lashes tremble in confusion.
“I won’t mess up your hair,” Ning Shangyu’s voice was slow and deliberate, his mesmerizing eyes clear as amber, as if he could see right through her.
Ning Shangyu’s Adam’s apple rolled sensually, but he didn’t kiss her.
Instead, his long, strong fingers slid through her dark hair, moving downward to gently but firmly cup the porcelain-like nape of her neck, then carelessly kneaded the hair underneath.
As his fingertips brushed through her hair… Lin Zhishui didn’t catch his meaning at first.
Instead, her mind wandered back to that night at the winery, when she’d been so inexperienced and muddled, following her instincts like a small animal.
Slowly, Lin Zhishui met Ning Shangyu’s gaze, and from him, she saw a similar recollection.
But he showed not a hint of embarrassment—on the contrary, he seemed quite interested.
Now, as he casually played with her hair again, she was glad her hair was smooth and soft.
Otherwise, it would have been a mess by now.
Lin Zhishui snapped out of her memory, finally registering Ning Shangyu’s rejection, so she reached out and slapped his hand away, refusing as well, “Don’t touch! A girl’s hair isn’t something you can just mess with!”
Ning Shangyu mused, “Oh? It’s not?”
“Of course not!”
She had naturally picked up the new habit of bringing up old grievances at any time.
Tilting her head up, her fingertip brushed Ning Shangyu’s robe collar, her tone clear and calm but full of spirit, “Why haven’t you apologized to me yet? Do you know how long it takes me to heal from even a small injury? Don’t be fooled by the size—it may seem like a little wound, but thanks to your rough methods, what might heal in three days for a normal person takes me—!”
“At least half a month!”
What did that mean?
It meant she had to give up her hard-won freedom to go out, and spend every day hiding in the villa to nurse her wound…
That’s what bothered Lin Zhishui the most.
She felt she’d paid too high a price for a moment of reckless curiosity that night.
Wanting an apology wasn’t too much, was it?
“And I’m much more generous than you!”
With those words, Lin Zhishui pointed at the shimmering box of personal items right in front of Ning Shangyu.
The implication was obvious.
He refused to demonstrate now, and she still wasn’t mad.
Ning Shangyu’s palm came to rest on her fair cheek, his fingertip gliding softly across her temple and finally landing on her overly soft jawline.
The atmosphere grew quiet for a moment.
With “evidence” in hand, Lin Zhishui had no fear of being caught and maintained her upright, justified posture.
Only after Ning Shangyu’s hand lingered for a few seconds did he move it away, then generously agreed to her request, “I apologize.”
Seated on his lap, Lin Zhishui’s eyes curved slightly at the corners. “And your sincerity?”
Ning Shangyu slowly rubbed his fingertips together, a calm, low sound slipping from his throat, “I’ll apply medicine for you until the wound is completely healed.”
“How’s that for sincerity?”
“Barely acceptable.”
Having gotten her apology, Lin Zhishui also made him willingly offer a solution to make up for his wrongdoing.
Knowing when to stop, she slowly climbed off Ning Shangyu’s lap, but not before reminding him gently, “I didn’t force you, right?”
***
That night, when Lin Zhishui went downstairs for a drink of water, the box that had been on the coffee table was already gone.
This time, she didn’t bother to wonder whether Ning Shangyu had someone put it away.
Lowering her eyes, she carried her glass back the way she came.
Her footsteps were light as she walked along the silent, luxurious corridor toward the master bedroom.
The phone in her other hand suddenly lit up, displaying a late-night call from Xin Jingxuan back in the Gang District.
The flashing screen reflected on Lin Zhishui’s delicate lashes.
After a moment’s thought, she slid to answer, “Jingxuan?”
Xin Jingxuan was calling to check in. The sound of pages turning in a medical book could be heard as she asked, “I figure you’ve finished at least three days’ worth of that medicinal food by now. How did it work?”
Lin Zhishui had guessed Xin Jingxuan would ask this as soon as she saw the call, and had hesitated about whether to answer.
She didn’t reply immediately, instead taking a sip of water.
The subtle ripple at the bottom of the glass reflected clearly in the water, and after a moment’s thought, she replied tactfully, “It’s okay, I guess.”
“Just okay?”
Even from thousands of miles away, Xin Jingxuan seemed to instantly understand Lin Zhishui’s hidden meaning—that it hadn’t worked.
As a conscientious and talented doctor of traditional medicine, she pressed on, “I have a new medicinal food recipe. Want to try it?”
Lin Zhishui paused her slow drinking.
Having known Xin Jingxuan since childhood, she knew that unless she put this matter to rest, Xin Jingxuan would keep calling late at night with new recipes.
But no matter how many secret recipes she found, with Ning Shangyu’s absolute authority, they were all useless.
Lin Zhishui couldn’t bring herself to tell Xin Jingxuan the truth, so she sighed lightly and lied, “No need, he can’t be cured anymore.”
“How can you just give up on reviving a man’s vigor?”
Xin Jingxuan, ever the compassionate doctor, grew serious.
“Zhishui, bring him to me for a look—” But before she could finish, she was abruptly interrupted.
Lin Zhishui had accidentally caught sight of a tall shadow cast on the wall—at some point, another person had appeared, startling her into hanging up reflexively.
After a brief pause, she turned, slightly flustered, toward the study.
Ning Shangyu was clearly still working, having been disturbed by her phone call in the hallway.
The lighting was warm, his velvet robe half open, revealing glimpses of muscular lines.
The two of them stared at each other for a moment.
Lin Zhishui didn’t dare let her gaze wander.
The next second, she avoided his ambiguous look, touched her collarbone with pale fingers, and couldn’t help but quietly ask, “Did you hear anything?”
Ning Shangyu, unfazed, pulled his robe closed and replied in a warm, deep tone, “Mm, I heard Lin Miss issued my critical condition notice.”
Lin Zhishui’s face remained calm, but inside she was falling apart.
He’d heard everything!
She forced herself to keep her expression steady and said honestly, “Well, it was just a joke, you know? Whoever takes it seriously is a little puppy.”
“Ning President is such a brilliant man, surely you wouldn’t take it seriously, right?”
With that, regardless of Ning Shangyu’s reaction, she blinked rapidly and began pretending to chat casually, saying she was going back to her room for a bath and a good night’s sleep, hurrying to get away from this land of trouble.
Ning Shangyu didn’t respond, simply watched her slender figure as she almost fled.
Only when Lin Zhishui slammed the master bedroom door shut did he react.
The crisp sound of the lock echoed, as if it could really keep anything out.
After a while, Ning Shangyu’s thin lips curled into a barely noticeable, cool smile.
There were still fifteen days left.
***
Late at night, Ning Piaoyu, who had just arrived back in Sui City, was being relentlessly @-mentioned in the WeChat group.
Without some family bloodline, you couldn’t get into this group—every member had “Yu” in their name, all young masters.
At first, the group was meant to resist Ning Shangyu’s imperial rule in secret.
As time passed, it became a place for open and covert power struggles, as well as a gathering of various troublemakers vying for favor.
At this time, Ning Shuyu had been unable to get Ning Miaoyu to go to the private hospital for a new measurement, and the young master was still brooding over Ning Zai Yu accusing him of faking his length.
He lost his temper, “Ning Miaoyu, how come you’ve been missing lately?”
After a while, Ning Piaoyu still hadn’t replied.
Instead, another Yu piped up:
“He’s been too busy being missing lately, don’t you all know? He’s serving as our future sister-in-law’s slave now. Tsk… Congratulations, everyone. In the past, we only had to serve our honorable elder brother, but now there’s one more.”
In the group chat.
Ning Shangyu was often teased as a domineering monarch in private, directly imposing a slave system on these failed products of family power struggles.
And even the slave system had its own hierarchy.
These proud, crazy young men never acknowledged each other, constantly trading insults—calling each other slaves—yet if any one of them fell out of Ning Shangyu’s favor, they’d instantly start fighting for attention.
Tonight, Ning Panyu naturally became the main target of collective attack.
But he wasn’t one to take it lying down.
He arrogantly sent a sixty-second voice message to the group, his tone flamboyant and lazy, “Let me be blunt—if you useless little slaves want to climb up and serve, instead of all this petty sniping, why not go steal those two stone lions at the old residence gate tonight? Maybe you’ll finally get noticed.”
But a week later, Ning Shuyu suddenly became very active, picking up where Ning Yin Yu’s outrageously provocative words left off, “Damn… I’ve been so busy lately, and my brother keeps telling me to take our sister-in-law out to play.”
The next second—
Ning Zai Yu’s new message couldn’t be sent.
The system showed he’d already been kicked out of the group by the deranged Ning Hun Yu.
***
A week passed.
The little wound on Lin Zhishui’s pale pink lips had already healed, the skin now flawless.
It had recovered even faster than expected, thanks to Ning Shangyu’s careful application of medicine every morning and night.
Early in the morning, just awake and still a bit groggy, she habitually reached for the medicine box.
She’d almost forgotten—her recovery period at the villa was over.
She could finally go out freely…
Clutching the cool medicine box in her white fingers, she got out of bed, not caring that the silk nightgown’s strap slipped down her glowing shoulder, and headed straight for the room next door as usual.
As before, she knocked symbolically twice for politeness, then pushed the door open.
The thick, luxurious curtains were wide open, and brilliant sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, flooding the big bed—yet there was no sign of that tall figure.
Instead, the faint sound of running water came from the bathroom.
Lin Zhishui rubbed her slightly red, sleepy eyes and followed the sound—only to be shocked fully awake.
Ning Shangyu was taking a shower early in the morning.
When she walked in, he made no move to hide.
Just stood there, calm and unashamed.
The first thing Lin Zhishui noticed was the striking black tattoo on his arm—a long mark, mysterious and almost like a cursed brand against his pale skin, made even more eye-catching by the steaming water.
Her gaze was drawn and fixed.
“Does it look good?”
Ning Shangyu asked casually, his tattooed arm hanging loosely at his side.
“Yes. It looks good.”
Stunned in place, Lin Zhishui answered honestly without thinking.
In fact, she should have politely looked away next, but her clear, glassy eyes couldn’t help but follow his arm, lingering on the black tattoo.
Just for a moment.
She noticed a strange similarity.
The black line overlapped eerily with the shadow of her new friend, which she was becoming more and more familiar with.