A strange bed and an unfamiliar environment made it impossible for Lin Zhishui to sleep soundly.
Fortunately, the lingering scent of cold fir enveloped her once again, strong and inescapable.
When she woke up again, it was already daylight.
She lay quietly curled up in the blanket, the exposed skin above her temple showing an unusual snowy whiteness after drinking, as if her eyes had been washed clean by mountain spring water.
It was late morning when Lin Zhishui slowly opened her eyes.
At first, she was still a little groggy, but as soon as she moved, she felt a faint pain from the lingering redness—a subtle ache, not severe but unmistakably clear.
Suddenly, as her mind registered this, her heartbeat sped up, and almost without thinking, she threw back the blanket and looked down.
Her hands were fine, her stomach was not bruised, but her skin, as smooth as lamb-fat jade, was imprinted with heated marks.
The red traces grew even deeper, and even after a whole night, they looked shockingly stark.
From the moment she woke up cuddled in the sheets to recalling the details of last night in the bathroom, it took only a second.
Lin Zhishui finally remembered how Ning Shangyu had personally punished her last night—not with any small whip, but with those clearly-defined, strong hands of his.
He had ruthlessly and “brutally” spanked her three times!
Three times!
How cruel!
Lin Zhishui’s delicate brows furrowed, and she felt the temperature inside her body inexplicably rise.
Her back began to sweat slightly, sticky and uncomfortable.
She almost wanted to go and confront him for his “crimes,” but just as she was about to get out of bed, her gradually sobering mind recalled what had happened before the punishment.
It was her first time drinking, and she got herself drunk.
Wearing her drunken logic as a shield, she had run to find Ning Shangyu, insisting that he make her more tonic soup for two more days.
After that—
The fragments of memory, blurred by alcohol, began to replay in reverse in her mind, and she gradually remembered the two so-called “abandoned babies”—those pretty, pitiful children.
How could they be abandoned?
What good person would abandon a child with not even a scrap of cloth to cover them, just a pink ribbon, and so brazenly push them into Ning Shangyu’s room?
Clearly, someone had deliberately prepared that as a “gift” for him.
In truth, Lin Zhishui knew all too well the unspoken games played by those in high positions, but the recipient this time was Ning Shangyu—her fiancé!
And yet, not only did she not stand up to defend her engagement, she even chose to join in, publicly making a fool of herself and acting as the “stepmother” in front of everyone.
Lin Zhishui lowered her curled lashes and closed her eyes, silently feeling ashamed of herself for a full minute.
Even the tips of her toes, pressed against the snowy bedsheets, turned pink.
At that moment, the heavy, luxurious carpet muffled the sound of footsteps—Ning Shangyu walked in slowly, holding a glass of honey water.
His black hair was slightly messy, and he stared at her sitting motionless on the bed, speaking in a calm voice, “The wine’s been warmed.”
Lin Zhishui’s beautiful lashes trembled slightly.
Then, very slowly, she shifted her gaze to Ning Shangyu’s face.
To be precise—
To the face of the “culprit.”
Thanks to last night’s confession and the spanking punishment, Lin Zhishui now found it impossible to think of Ning Shangyu as the magnanimous adult he appeared to be.
Especially at this moment, with him idly standing here, he was likely planning to settle old and new scores together.
However, Lin Zhishui was not the type to sit quietly and wait for trouble.
After a few seconds of thought, she decided to strike first.
Her porcelain face immediately became stern, and she accused him in a heavy tone, “Ning Shangyu, you bullied me! You spanked me! And you even accepted gifts behind my back, two of them…”
At this moment, Lin Zhishui even felt that, in this marriage of family interests, she was absolutely standing on the moral high ground.
Her voice, softened by the lingering effects of alcohol, was still gentle and slightly husky upon waking.
Perhaps it was her natural constitution, but her tone was soft, almost misty with moisture.
Ning Shangyu, rarely displaying such gentlemanly patience, waited for her to finish her accusation before asking, “Lin Miss, are you cold?”
Huh?
Lin Zhishui looked at him in confusion.
The next second, Ning Shangyu’s handsome, sharp brow revealed a hint of deeper meaning, but he continued directly, “If the noble Lin Miss standing on the moral high ground isn’t cold, then when do you plan to return my shirt?”
Following his gaze, Lin Zhishui looked down at herself.
She hadn’t prepared any clothes at the unfamiliar winery, and what she was wearing wasn’t a bathrobe, but clearly a shirt in Ning Shangyu’s size—loose and draping over her body, far too large.
The scent of cold fir she had vaguely smelled in her sleep was now obviously coming from the fabric.
At this moment, she instinctively pulled the collar closer, but the lingering scent had already seeped down from her collarbone, dominating every inch of her skin.
“You refused to sleep without complaining, insisting after getting drunk that you were the Princess and the Pea. This bed isn’t the black velvet one you wanted, and the mattress wasn’t soft enough, which bothered you.”
In the brief, awkward silence that followed, every word Ning Shangyu spoke seemed to weigh heavily on Lin Zhishui’s little heart.
Yet he calmly reminded her of last night’s embarrassing scene, “In the end, you insisted on smelling my shirt before you were willing to settle down.”
Lin Zhishui immediately fell silent, her face glowing translucent in the daylight, tinged with a faint pink.
She was afraid Ning Shangyu would ask another bold question, but as fate would have it, he did just that.
His gaze, deep and distant, lingered on her, and he asked with a hint of indifference, “Does my scent smell good?”
In truth, Lin Zhishui had never been so close to anyone else’s scent before.
Her sensitive constitution, especially as a child, meant she was constantly exposed to new allergens.
Aunt Qin would always worry that even fresh outdoor air might harm her.
As a result, all she had ever known was clean, scentless air.
But on Ning Shangyu, besides that indescribably masculine, vital energy that stirred her curiosity, there was also the extremely pleasant scent of cold fir—subtle, not overpowering, with a clean freshness that was almost elusive…
In short, it was a scent Lin Zhishui found very pleasing.
After a brief silence, Lin Zhishui, who had been soothed by his scent all night, was now quietly climbing down from her moral high ground, getting out of bed with a calm expression.
She refused to answer Ning Shangyu’s question directly.
She had just taken a few steps toward the bathroom when she suddenly remembered something and slowly returned to Ning Shangyu’s side.
Their difference in height was too great, so she had to tiptoe.
Her clear eyes reflected the dazzling light from the lion brooch pinned to his suit, shining brightly.
As Lin Zhishui drew closer, ignoring the discomfort in her palm and the dull ache beneath the shirt, she gently placed her hand on Ning Shangyu’s shoulder, tiptoeing as much as she could to maintain a sense of equality.
She said, word by word, “Mr. Ning, you really are too heavy-handed.”
The memory of being restrained last night, hands tied with his necktie, forced to measure the rise and fall of his pulse in front of the mirror, was still vivid.
Ning Shangyu’s unusually high body temperature was also impossible to ignore.
He really didn’t know how to show restraint.
This moral high ground, she thought, still needed to be asserted.
***
Even after taking a real spanking as punishment, Lin Zhishui’s day was as triumphant as ever.
By noon, the owner of the winery, Lu Yuheng, had not only returned the two “abandoned babies” but also learned that Ning Shangyu’s fiancée was on the island.
To make up for the earlier offense, he went out of his way to prepare an extravagant lunch and offered a privately stored, commemorative edition of red wine for Lin Zhishui.
Afraid that this rare “archaeological treasure” would be wasted, Lin Zhishui, remembering last night’s events, had already decided not to touch alcohol again for a while.
Her stomach might be strong,
but her tender backside couldn’t withstand another round of Ning Shangyu’s palm.
Lin Zhishui wore a moss-green silk dress that hugged her slender waist, sitting upright and dignified.
Her exposed skin was wrapped in smooth fabric, barely touching the edge of the soft sofa.
Behind her, the floor-to-ceiling windows framed an endless, vast coastline—a view as magnificent as it was serene.
She gazed calmly at the long, luxurious dining table, where exquisite dishes were being served one after another.
There was a wide variety of meats, and everything was perfectly timed and presented.
Lin Zhishui kept to herself, choosing to sip water slowly.
Her fingers paused on the glass for a moment before she turned and asked Xi Chen, who was dressed formally and standing respectfully nearby, “Secretary Xi, could you invite Ning Guan Yu to join us for lunch as well?”
Considering their “drunken camaraderie” from last night, and with such good food, she felt she should share with her “comrade-in-arms.”
Lin Zhishui’s suggestion was sincere.
But Xi Chen replied in a low voice, “Young Master Miao drank heavily after swimming in the pool last night—three bottles of high-proof spirits in one go. He’s so drunk he’ll be sleeping for three days and nights and can’t possibly join you for lunch.”
Lin Zhishui stared at him, her expression subtly conflicted.
Xi Chen, ever the smooth talker, continued with a topic sure to interest this future Mrs. Ning, “In the Ning Family, those younger brothers are always causing trouble. Whenever they sense Mr. Ning’s displeasure, they punish themselves first—”
“Afterwards, it’s a silent plea for their respected elder brother to go easy on them, hoping for leniency.”
Lin Zhishui’s fleeting sense of revolutionary friendship for Ning Guan Yu lasted less than ten seconds before an awkward silence fell.
What else could she do?
If she’d known, she would have drunk more last night and slept through three days and nights herself.
That way, Ning Shangyu couldn’t possibly wake her with a slap, right?
Just as she was thinking of Ning Shangyu, he appeared in reality, walking in alone and blocking a patch of sunlight with his tall figure.
Lin Zhishui’s lashes trembled, but she didn’t say a word.
She thought he was busy with business and wouldn’t join her for lunch, but when he sat down, the overwhelming aura he exuded made her inexplicably uneasy—of course, the real reason was due to the awkwardness of her current physical state.
She cast a discreet, resentful glance at the culprit.
Ning Shangyu didn’t speak either, his tone as calm as ever, giving nothing away.
***
At that moment, Lin Zhishui’s mind was filled with many chaotic thoughts, until the restaurant’s head chef personally brought out a plate of roasted beef as the grand finale.
He enthusiastically introduced it as the winery’s signature dish for distinguished guests.
Lin Zhishui slowly finished her glass of water, pausing for a moment.
Though her refined and beautiful appearance was calm on the surface, anyone who spent enough time with her would know—
Lin Zhishui was a picky eater, with her own aesthetic standards for food.
She didn’t like greasy dishes or those that weren’t visually pleasing, preferring colorful salads and fruity flavors.
But the chef was so gracious, even bypassing Ning Shangyu at the head of the table to personally plate a portion for her, making an inviting gesture as if he was just waiting for her approval of his cooking.
Lin Zhishui was not one to refuse such kindness.
After a brief hesitation, she picked up her chopsticks and chose a small piece of roasted beef.
It was tender and flavorful, but perhaps because she didn’t chew thoroughly enough, it got stuck in her throat as she tried to swallow.
She coughed lightly twice.
Even the corners of her eyes turned red.
Just as she was about to reach for water, she realized her glass was empty.
Her fingers moved toward the dazzling red wine bottle on the table, its glass sparkling in the sunlight.
But that glimmer of light disappeared.
She realized, half a beat late, that someone had taken it away.
“Why can’t you even swallow a small bite of meat?”
Ning Shangyu picked up a clean napkin, wiped his hand—adorned with a cold silver ring—and then pinched her slightly reddened cheek.
His touch was gentle but left a faint, ambiguous mark on her skin.
The restaurant, which had been filled with respectful staff, was now empty—Xi Chen had already cleared the room, taking the chef with him.
The next second—
Ning Shangyu, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, began to help her swallow the food.
Lin Zhishui was startled, instinctively holding her breath.
Her lips and teeth closed around his fingers, faintly touching the Ning Family’s crest engraved on his ring…
Ning Shangyu commanded, “Cough.”
Lin Zhishui obeyed instinctively.
Regretfully, her face was tinged with a shallow pink, even her lips glistening under the light.
As she struggled to swallow, her gentle breaths seemed to spill onto the back of Ning Shangyu’s hand, tracing the distinct bones up to the veins beneath his cool, pale skin, creating a stunning image.
His powerful brows and eyes were incredibly calm.
Though he was the one orchestrating the scene, his gaze seemed entirely detached.
After a long while,
Ning Shangyu watched as Lin Zhishui’s delicate throat finally managed to swallow the bite.
He finally let go.
Then, after changing to a new napkin to wipe his long fingers, he commented with an unreadable expression, “Lin Miss really is made of water.”