The butler carried the ginger tea upstairs and glanced at the master bedroom door, which was still closed.
He knocked lightly on the study door.
Song Huaixu signaled for him to put it down.
Seeing only one cup of tea, he looked up and said, “Bring two more pieces of candy.”
The butler was suddenly enlightened.
“So it’s for Miss Xu? If I’d known, I would’ve put more sugar in when I brewed it.”
“There aren’t any candies stored in advance at home,” he thought for a moment, “but there is rock sugar.”
After all, the owner of this villa rarely came, and preferred light tastes. Naturally, the household followed the owner’s habits, and there were no children here.
Song Huaixu hummed in acknowledgment.
Inside the master bedroom, Miss Xu Nanyin had already showered and was just halfway through blow-drying her hair when she heard a knock.
At this hour, it could only be Song Huaixu.
She moved slowly to the door.
After what had just happened—such an intimate moment, and at her own request—she felt a little at a loss how to face him now.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the door just a crack and peeked out.
In her line of sight, Song Huaixu stood in the corridor. His tall and straight figure cast a long shadow in the light.
He had obviously also bathed, wearing deep blue silk pajamas that looked leisurely and casual, understated yet refined.
Miss Xu looked for two seconds, then her nose caught a strong ginger scent.
As a professional in Chinese Medicine, she easily recognized it.
“Ginger tea?”
The man raised his hand slightly.
Miss Xu didn’t refuse. Having passed her oral exam and already qualified as a Chinese Medicine Intern, she knew well how miserable being sick could be, so she accepted the ginger tea.
Her beautiful eyes met the man’s again.
Since he was helping her by bringing this, it felt unreasonable not to let the master of the bedroom in.
Miss Xu opened the door wide, not closing it behind her.
Song Huaixu’s gaze shifted away from her face, flushed from the steam after her bath.
Only then did he notice what she was wearing: wrapped in his bathrobe, with a shirt visible at the collar underneath.
Everything about him was immense to her, so even his bathrobe made her look especially petite, and her face all the more delicate.
His eyes traveled downwards—she was definitely wearing more of his clothes.
Was she trying to wrap herself up like a bear?
Miss Xu held the tea cup and tilted her head back to drink the ginger tea, the spicy flavor mixed with a hint of sweetness filling her mouth.
A sound fell from above: “Open your mouth.”
Song Huaixu’s voice was like the water in the pool earlier—bottomless, deep, calm, and enveloping.
Once touched by it, there was no escape.
Miss Xu instinctively parted her lips slightly.
A small white piece of rock sugar was pushed into her mouth.
She gently bit it, pressing her lips together, trying to swallow.
The man’s two fingers didn’t pull away immediately; they were slightly calloused.
The rock sugar wasn’t cold, but it was cool—he was warm.
In that moment, Miss Xu was transported back to just moments ago.
Fortunately, Song Huaixu withdrew his hand in the next second.
His fingertips rubbed softly and felt slightly sticky—it was the ginger tea residue from before.
She was well-behaved and obedient.
He lingered for a few seconds, watching the rock sugar disappear inside her mouth.
“This isn’t bitter,” Miss Xu said, unaware of his gaze.
“Not afraid of bitterness?” he asked.
“I’ve taken Chinese Medicine much more bitter than this before,” she replied with a hum.
“But having sweetness is definitely better than bitterness.”
Inside the bedroom, the tea cup was casually set on the table.
A maid came upstairs to collect her soaked clothes and said they would be brought back after drying.
Song Huaixu glanced over. “Not dried yet?”
Miss Xu realized he was talking about her hair.
She had a usual prescription, plus careful maintenance.
Her hair was thick and troublesome to blow dry, and at home, A Li usually helped her.
“It takes a long time, very troublesome.”
She shook her head.
Her slightly wavy black hair swayed like seaweed with her movements.
Song Huaixu frowned slightly and led her to the washbasin.
Miss Xu was a bit surprised, watching him grab the blow dryer.
She realized he was going to help, but she was used to others serving her, so she didn’t find it unusual.
But she didn’t want to be pinned down here.
“I don’t want it.”
Song Huaixu lifted an eyebrow.
“Now you don’t want it?”
Miss Xu caught the implication referring to the pool earlier.
“Then why didn’t you refuse me before?”
“What?”
Song Huaixu smirked faintly.
“You said you had a hard time leaving, so I didn’t refuse you.”
Miss Xu corrected him, “I told you not to refuse to answer my questions. Those are two different things.”
“Miss Xu, your wording is ambiguous,” came the deep voice behind her.
Miss Xu was speechless, and softly said, “Can’t I just not have it blown dry?”
“No,” his tone was unyielding.
If anyone else in the villa saw this, their eyes would probably pop out.
Her hair really was thick, and still damp inside, wetting Song Huaixu’s fingers as they passed through.
Miss Xu stood there, bored, looking into the mirror.
The man behind her was much taller, slightly bowing his head, his deep features and sexy thin lips half-hidden by eyelids, making his expression hard to read.
Suddenly, she recalled those online who idolized him, calling him the Midas touch, saying he was unattainable.
Yet such a powerful man was now drying her hair.
They probably never imagined such a thing could happen to him.
Her heart thudded strangely, then she realized that not long ago, his hands had taken her to heaven.
Her reaction followed, and she subconsciously closed her legs.
The man sensed it sharply.
“Tired of standing?”
Miss Xu played along.
Just as the words left her mouth, she was lifted at the waist and placed on the washbasin, causing her to let out a soft gasp.
Luckily, she was wearing two layers, so it didn’t feel cold.
Now, face to face, the man’s imposing presence and heated breath were impossible to ignore.
Warm air occasionally blew across her cheek, giving Miss Xu a tingling sensation that was oddly pleasant.
She didn’t understand where it came from, nor was it a symptom of Craving Skin Syndrome, but it made her breath quicker all the same.
The scent on Song Huaixu had changed from the peach fragrance she remembered to his body wash and shampoo.
Yet, this only stirred more imagination.
Since arriving in Port City, she’d been nicknamed “Little Barbie.” Right now, she really looked like a doll.
Fortunately, it was over quickly.
Miss Xu returned to the floor and avoided his gaze, and coincidentally, Song Huaixu’s international call came through.
She leaned against him and turned to the window, brushing her teeth with his toothpaste, its cold minty taste refreshing.
When she finished, his call was still ongoing, with occasional snippets of rapid, fluent German.
Calm, sexy…
Two things that hardly ever coexisted.
Miss Xu stared for a while, then returned to the bed and sat, planning to ask him about everything once his call ended.
But as she waited, yawning and lying down, the call still hadn’t finished.
She burrowed under the covers, comfortably finding a position, drifting to sleep amid the scent of Ebony Incense.
More than ten minutes later, Song Huaixu ended the call.
It was about a new overseas project.
The person in charge didn’t dare act recklessly, so they dared to call late at night.
The boss was meticulous in business.
As long as no mistakes were made, they never felt at risk.
However, tonight, the person in charge thought the boss was accelerating the pace.
What was supposed to take thirty minutes was wrapped up in just over ten.
He sat down and turned back to the bedroom.
The dark comforter bulged slightly.
No one would notice anyone was in bed if they didn’t know Miss Xu was still there.
Song Huaixu walked to the bedside.
The girl was sunk into his pillow, her side-profile pale and smooth, quiet and obedient, breathing evenly.
Still sleeping in the middle of his bed.
Anyone could sleep so soundly with someone else in the room.
Song Huaixu flicked his eyes up and remembered she had said she wanted company at night.
Pressing his temple, he grabbed a book casually and flipped back the comforter by the bed.
Sensing someone nearby, Miss Xu instinctively thought it was A Li.
She had drunk again tonight and used up all her energy; now, she habitually sought A Li’s embrace.
But what she touched wasn’t soft and fragrant—it was hard.
She muttered something under her breath, but it didn’t stop her from snuggling closer.
Wearing multiple layers made her feel thick and uncomfortable. She reached to undo the bathrobe.
Song Huaixu frowned as he watched her fidget under the covers.
“What are you moving for?”
“Uncomfortable…”
She finally slipped out of the heavy bathrobe, feeling much lighter and defenseless as she leaned against him, enjoying the comfortable warmth.
The man restrained her reckless movements with a low voice: “Don’t touch around.”
Miss Xu instead hugged his arm.
If he tried to leave, she would murmuringly complain in dissatisfaction—utterly incoherent.
Song Huaixu stared for a long moment, then smiled slightly, turning a page.
The cold, dry professional knowledge in the book calmed his thoughts.
After a rare moment of peace, the girl clutching his arm started moving again.
“What’s wrong?”
Song Huaixu lifted her face buried in the quilt.
“My little sister feels unwell,” Miss Xu complained coquettishly.
She spoke in the Port City dialect.
The sentence was easy to understand: “My little sister is not feeling well.”
Song Huaixu knew the literal meaning, but as he pondered who her ‘little sister’ was, Miss Xu loosened her grip, fumbling to crawl out from under the covers.
She was about to get out of bed.
The room was dark, with only the bedside lamp on.
Miss Xu wore his shirt. It fit him just right, but for her, it was very loose, the length reaching just above her knees, hanging loosely.
She really had no sense of alertness.
He didn’t even remember owning such beach shorts.
Now that she wore them, maybe because they were too big, one side could fit both her legs. Without a belt, she tied the waist in a knot.
Though shorts, they reached below her knees, looking like a child in adult clothes.
Miss Xu climbed over him and stepped barefoot onto the floor.
The man, uneasy, put down the book and followed behind.
She pushed open the bathroom door.
Song Huaixu stopped and didn’t enter.
After a moment, she came out and bumped into his back.
He looked down, his dark eyes catching sight of her thin legs beneath the shirt.
His voice was controlled and low: “Where are your pants?”
“Hm?”
“Not wearing them?”
Miss Xu looked down vaguely and thought it over, “They’re uncomfortable when rubbed.”
Her clothes were drying downstairs.
Wearing just the beach shorts, the fabric naturally wasn’t as soft as clothes made for close contact.
So she had discarded them in the bathroom.
Song Huaixu’s gaze darkened sharply.
So her ‘little sister’ was referring to this.
Miss Xu was still somewhat dazed.
After he let go, she moved back to the bed and slowly crawled under the covers.
Night deepened.
Because the master was often away for long periods, the household staff kept their own normal and casual schedules.
Tonight was another rare late night.
A maid was in charge of handling the laundry.
Being from Port City, she knew Miss Xu’s true identity clearly, which made her more shocked.
Could the messy news tonight about two men fighting over one woman be true?
She thought of soap opera plots while waiting for Miss Xu’s clothes to be dried, neatly folded, and brought upstairs.
Unexpectedly, the one to open the door was the villa’s master.
Right now, he looked dangerous, more intimidating than usual.
The maid dared not say a word.
Song Huaixu glanced carelessly and saw the pale pink garment he had seen before folded small on top.
He lowered his eyes and took it casually.
Miss Xu vaguely heard someone calling her to put on clothes, but she didn’t want to move.
Sleeping with clothes on?
A Li was such a nuisance.
She put her leg on the person’s body, clearly hoping to be helped dressing, still not fully conscious.
But it wasn’t A Li—it was a cold man.
Song Huaixu’s face was stern, looking down on her.
With simple movements, he helped her put on a little, lifting the quilt so cold air seeped in.
Without the quilt covering her, the chill seemed to invade through the gap. She habitually reached for warmth.
Until his palm covered hers.
The sudden rise in temperature made her make a soft sound.
Song Huaixu wasn’t surprised and noticed it was damp.
“Let go,” he said.
Miss Xu ignored him.
“Xu Nanyin,” Song Huaixu called.
“Hm?” she responded, half-asleep.
Before rationality returned, she was still dominated by sensation.
“Do you know who I am?”
“A Li?”
Miss Xu didn’t even open her eyes.
Did he think he was the same as that not-so-bright Li?
The man left coldly, his palm shining in the light.
Miss Xu still clung to his arm.
Since childhood, Song Huaixu had little sensation of pain, let alone such light pressure from her.
“Put the rest on yourself.”
His face darkened, voice cold.
Miss Xu was roused to a bit more clarity, looking at the man standing in the light and shadow at the bed’s edge, thinking she must be dreaming.
Half of her was in his shadow.
The other half was lit, her fingers slender. She’d never done manual labor, not even a single callus.
Recently, she’d gone for a manicure with Miss Lin Zhijun—gentle and charming peach pink, cat eye shimmering like it caught the light.
Song Huaixu’s eyes were a shade darker.
Without skill, relying solely on instinct, Miss Xu awkwardly stood.
He avoided her gaze, listening to her subtle movements.