Chapter 10: Nourishment of Secrets

The first request from the future madam must be fulfilled immediately, even if there isn’t a housekeeper, someone must be found right away.

There was no denying that the Ning Family was well-trained and efficient.

Ten minutes later, Lin Zhishui was standing in front of the marble island in the kitchen, looking at all the ingredients neatly laid out.

She looked the type whose ten fingers never touched spring water, but she could still make a simple nourishing soup.

After putting the soup on to simmer herself, Lin Zhishui went upstairs to take a bath.

When the sky outside had turned completely dark, she finally came downstairs, wrapped in a soft, ankle-length bathrobe.

Her whole demeanour was lazy and relaxed as she used her hand to comb through her waist-length black hair.

The moment she stepped into the living room, she was surprised to find Ning Shangyu already sitting on the wide sofa.

A tablet was set on the coffee table, and he was in the middle of a transoceanic video conference with upper management.

He only lifted his eyelids faintly when he noticed Lin Zhishui’s figure appear.

Before she could say anything, the housekeeper arrived at just the right moment, carrying a steaming bowl of fish congee and some delicate Gang District specialty dim sum.

“Miss Lin, where would you like to have your dinner? The dining room, or…”

The housekeeper’s question was very considerate, stopping just short as he subtly indicated the sofa area in the center of the living room.

Lin Zhishui glanced at the fish congee for a few seconds.

For such a small bowl, there was no need to go all the way to the empty dining room.

She could finish it right here on the sofa, so she naturally took a seat directly across from Ning Shangyu.

Her bathrobe was snow-white, and so was the sofa.

She seemed to blend right into a pile of thick winter snow.

With the classic floor lamp beside her casting its glow, her lowered profile revealed only her lips, red and slightly parted as she sipped a mouthful of sweet rice porridge.

She held it in her mouth, not swallowing just yet.

Lin Zhishui lifted her gaze lightly, her eyes falling naturally forward.

Ning Shangyu was still connected to the meeting, discussing the details of an acquisition.

He wore Bluetooth headphones, not broadcasting the conversation.

During a brief intermission, he casually unfastened the cufflinks from his slender wrists, then picked up a cigar from the coffee table.

Even from a fair distance, the rich, mellow scent of the cigar wafted through the air.

Lin Zhishui, curious, quietly watched Ning Shangyu’s overly calm yet strikingly handsome face as he exhaled clouds of smoke.

Her gaze traced him inch by inch, from his thin lips to the hand holding the cigar.

Suddenly, she noticed—

A detail she hadn’t seen before: on the inside of Ning Shangyu’s wrist, a dark straight line, like a tattoo, was faintly visible.

When he lifted his arm absentmindedly, the line became even clearer.

It wasn’t an intricate design—just a single straight line, and it looked rather long.

Lin Zhishui, true to her nature, couldn’t help but ask when curious, “Ning Shangyu, that long line on your arm, what is it?”

Her voice was soft, as clear as water, drifting into Ning Shangyu’s ear in the quiet of the night.

Ning Shangyu hadn’t paid much attention to Lin Zhishui until now.

He slowly lifted his head, his eyes—capable of captivating the soul—half-hidden in the mist, meeting Lin Zhishui’s bright gaze.

His tone was extremely calm, “You’ll know in the future.”

In the future?

Lin Zhishui was taken aback, her brow furrowing slightly.

She wondered if he was just brushing her off.

Was the time and place really so unsuitable for an answer?

Her black hair fell over her shoulders as she hesitated to speak.

Seeing that Ning Shangyu truly seemed unwilling to reveal anything, she swallowed her curiosity.

And with it, swallowed the mouthful of congee.

Lin Zhishui tilted her head and glanced at the clock.

She almost forgot—the nourishing soup should be ready by now.

She raised her wrist, handed the porcelain bowl to the housekeeper, and asked gently, “Where’s my soup?”

The housekeeper immediately responded, “Would you like it now? It’s already done.”

He brought over a delicate soup bowl, steam still rising from it.

Before the bowl could even touch the hot surface of the coffee table, Lin Zhishui’s fair fingers gently pushed it toward Ning Shangyu.

“I made this myself as soon as I got home. You must give me face and finish it.”

As she finished speaking—

Ning Shangyu was just snuffing out his cigar.

He happened to meet Lin Zhishui’s exceptionally sincere, glassy eyes, which carried a hint of goodwill, and two small, bright red spots appeared at the corners of her eyes.

She added, “The soup won’t taste good once it cools.”

After a moment, Ning Shangyu gave a low chuckle, then unhurriedly picked up the bowl.

He didn’t notice the housekeeper in the corner, who looked like he wanted to say something but hesitated.

The housekeeper had assumed the soup was for Miss Lin’s own nourishment, not realizing it was meant for Mr. Ning instead.

Did Mr. Ning know what this soup was for?

He dared not ask, choosing instead to keep his eyes shut and play dumb.

Lin Zhishui had learned the art of making soup from A Yang, so there was not even a hint of medicinal taste.

After Ning Shangyu finished drinking, Lin Zhishui shifted her position on the sofa, her hair falling smoothly to her snowy ankles, cool as silk.

At that moment, she suddenly asked, “By the way, should we try it tonight?”

Sitting in the dazzling light, Ning Shangyu’s reaction was particularly meaningful.

He looked up at her.

His gaze was so intense that Lin Zhishui paused for a few seconds.

She’d just bathed, and her body was fresh and clean inside the bathrobe.

She really was just asking normally, but for some reason, Ning Shangyu’s direct stare made her question sound like an invitation.

Ning Shangyu’s usual unapproachable demeanor shifted to a more casual, lazy one.

He leaned back into the sofa, seemed to consider for a moment, then lightly refused, “Miss Lin, I don’t have that on my schedule tonight.”

Ning Shangyu’s lack of “that” on his schedule made Lin Zhishui blink, forcing herself to calmly rise from the sofa and politely bid him goodnight.

She went upstairs as if nothing had happened.

The first thing Lin Zhishui did was contact Xin Jingxuan, that unreliable doctor.

She quickly opened WeChat and, out of kindness, gently reminded him, “Your medicinal recipe has some issues. You shouldn’t go around tricking people into eating it.”

Xin Jingxuan must have been asleep.

Otherwise, with his impatient nature, if his medical skills were questioned, he would’ve bombarded her with messages by now.

Lin Zhishui turned off her phone and went to sleep.

As she curled up on her side, she suddenly felt cold and pulled the blanket tightly around herself.

At that moment, Ning Shangyu, who had claimed not to have “that” on his schedule, undid three buttons on his shirt.

Not long after, he got up and headed for the bathroom with a blank expression.

After a cold shower, Ning Shangyu lowered his amber eyes, his wet hair clinging messily to his forehead.

Water still dripped from his dark hair.

His restrained expression seemed tinged with a never-before-seen golden hue, betraying a suppressed agitation deep within.

Ning Shangyu’s long, slender arms hung naturally at his sides.

In the lamplight of the deep night, the straight black line inside his arm and its shadow on the white marble wall were both clearly visible.

The lengths were nearly identical.

As the night deepened, half an hour later, Ning Shangyu, still tense, returned to the study.

After injecting himself with an inhibitor, the effect was minimal.

He tried again, but it still didn’t work.

He called his private doctor.

Doctor, “Your illness needs to be eased. If you loosen up, it’ll pass.”

Ning Shangyu’s hair was still half-wet, the black locks on his forehead pushed back.

His strikingly handsome features were now colder than ever, forming a stark contrast to his body’s reaction.

He didn’t reply.

If it weren’t for this overseas call, he could have pretended it wasn’t him losing control in the middle of the night.

The doctor was silent for a while, but knowing Ning Shangyu’s severe obsession with cleanliness and his unmentionable condition, he understood.

For years, Ning Shangyu had relied on the family’s specially developed inhibitors.

Occasional failure was normal.

So, the doctor suggested again, “Aren’t you living with your fiancée? Why not…”

But Ning Shangyu rejected the idea.

He thought of Lin Zhishui in the master bedroom.

The Lin Family had raised her like the finest mutton-fat jade—delicate and seemingly unable to bear any burden.

She was pure, even in matters of basic physiology.

Because of this—

Ning Shangyu knew better than anyone that he had to patiently teach her, little by little, until she no longer resisted him from the heart.

He hung up.

The only light in the room dimmed completely.

Ning Shangyu didn’t shower again, but his robe still looked sharp and fresh.

His gaze fell on the wide bookshelf, where a newspaper lay open.

The front page carried news of the Lin Family and Ning Family alliance in the Gang District.

The name Lin Zhishui stood out prominently.

His long, strong fingers tapped those three characters.

Under the lamp, the veins on his hand pulsed faintly.

Just once.

The clock in the corner ticked on.

Ning Shangyu closed his eyes for a moment.

His body was still burning, but he had completely hidden any trace of indulgence, showing only an utterly calm, indifferent demeanor.

For so many years, he’d lived in pain, strictly abstinent, always maintaining cleanliness and order, keeping everything under absolute control.

Only Lin Zhishui made him, in the tension between obsession and illness, truly develop forbidden thoughts about another person.

It was just half past five.

Ning Shangyu’s tall, upright figure was wrapped in a perfectly fitted black silk suit.

As he came downstairs, the housekeeper handed him a cup of herbal tea.

“You’ll probably need this this morning.”

Ning Shangyu’s expression remained calm as he gave the housekeeper a look.

“Why would I need this?”

Under such a strong, oppressive aura, the housekeeper answered honestly without thinking, “Mr. Ning, all the ingredients in Miss Lin’s medicinal recipe last night were extremely nourishing.”

The housekeeper didn’t dare look at his face, hurriedly adding, “You work hard every day. Some nourishment is normal.”

But Ning Shangyu recalled how his body had been in turmoil all night, thinking it was his illness acting up, never suspecting that she was the real culprit.

Very good.

So he needed the “nourishment,” did he?

Just then—

Lin Zhishui woke up as well.

She came downstairs in her slippers, just in time to hear the words “medicinal recipe.”

She couldn’t help but wonder, so early in the morning, was Ning Shangyu that eager to drink it again?

“Ning Shangyu.”

Her skirt swished softly over the wooden stairs as she asked in a gentle tone, “Do you like it? If you’re not in a hurry to leave, I can stew another soup for you.”

Ning Shangyu’s long fingers adjusted his ruby cufflinks, the fiery color reflected in Lin Zhishui’s eyes.

But she heard Ning Shangyu decline her kindness, his thin lips parting to utter two extremely cool words, “Wait.”

Wait for what?

Lin Zhishui looked confused.

If Ning Shangyu had known her doubts, he would have answered without hesitation:

Wait for your punishment~

Even after Ning Shangyu left, Lin Zhishui was still puzzled, so much so that she forgot she’d come downstairs because she was thirsty and looking for water.

The housekeeper stood nearby, giving a very subtle hint—apparently, last night’s nourishing soup had displeased Mr. Ning.

Lin Zhishui, “Ah…”

He’s angry?

Why is he angry?

Did he feel his manly dignity had been challenged?

Lin Zhishui blinked, thinking she should have made the soup secretly, without letting the housekeeper or chef know…

Should she apologize?

How should she express her apology?

She still hadn’t properly explained the matter with Shen Linshu…

Now it seemed she was guilty of yet another crime.

Lin Zhishui felt a bit conflicted.

Ning Shangyu’s schedule was packed.

Before dawn, he took his elite team abroad for a signing ceremony.

He would be away for several days.

The young driver, on the other hand, was quite idle and even called to ask if she’d been punished.

Lin Zhishui had no idea she was already on Ning Shangyu’s blacklist.

She sat leisurely on the balcony, admiring the hydrangeas blooming in the garden, and thought to herself how her private number had no privacy at all—anyone could call her.

She pursed her red lips and softly asked, “Why should I tell you?”

Ning Panyu had already noticed that Lin Zhishui was pure in both looks and personality—so pure, in fact, that she was difficult to deal with.

To satisfy his own curiosity, he lazily revealed over the phone the aftermath of Shen Linshu’s audacious attempt to steal someone else’s fiancée.

The aftermath was that Mr. and Mrs. Shen personally went to apologize to Ning Shangyu.

They also promised to keep a close eye on their son’s wandering heart.

Ning Panyu joked in his usual unserious tone: In the end, Ning Shangyu was very “understanding”… and forgave Shen Linshu.

She had barely stepped outside before being brought back.

How could there be more to the story?

Apparently, Ning Shangyu could be quite magnanimous at times.

Even when someone tried to steal from right under his nose, he could still be “understanding” enough to forgive.

He really was a peerless good man.

So, maybe he would also be “understanding” and forgive her?

Little did she know, Ning Panyu had left out one thing.

What he called Ning Shangyu’s “understanding” was actually cutting off all cooperation with the Shen Family and sending them packing back to North America.

As for her—

Ning Shangyu would be even more “understanding.”