Chapter 23:

The silver Buick slowly pulled up in front of Qin Muyao’s building. Lin Qiao sat in the driver’s seat, hesitating as she looked at Shen Qingzhou: “You really have to come up with me? Isn’t it better to just wait in the car? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Shen Qingzhou stared at her expressionlessly: “You should’ve thought about this before dragging me out.”

Lin Qiao gave a bitter smile: “I wish I hadn’t pulled you out then.”

“It’s too late now,” Shen Qingzhou said coolly, glancing sideways at her. “Lin Qiao, if it were anyone else, I wouldn’t even spare them a glance.”

“…I know,” she muttered, burying her face in the steering wheel and rolling it back and forth. “But it’s so inconvenient for you to come up with me.”

Shen Qingzhou’s lips curved slightly in an unreadable expression. He leaned closer, his voice sharp and cold: “Lin Qiao, have I been too good to you? You’re actually starting to believe you’re really my daughter.”

“…You wish. You couldn’t possibly have a daughter as big as me,” she teased, turning her face toward his handsome one, which was now only inches away.

Shen Qingzhou frowned slightly at her purple strap dress: “Didn’t I tell you not to dress so flashy? Why don’t you ever listen?”

Lin Qiao glanced down at her dress and shrugged: “All my summer clothes are like this.”

Without another word, Shen Qingzhou took off his black suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders, prompting her to squirm: “Why are you doing this? It’s so hot.”

“Then turn the air conditioning lower.”

“That works in the car, but I’m going out in a minute.”

“Is Qin Muyao so poor he can’t even afford an air conditioner?”

“…He’s sick. It’s not appropriate to use the AC right now. Anyway, just wear it. Don’t worry about me.” She tried to take off the jacket.

Shen Qingzhou didn’t stop her. Instead, he suddenly leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, his voice soft and ambiguous: “You look really pretty.” Then he sat back upright in the passenger seat.

And just like that, Lin Qiao completely forgot about taking off the jacket.

…

Eventually, Shen Qingzhou followed Lin Qiao upstairs, though before getting out of the car, she left the jacket behind.

To their surprise, the elevator in the apartment was out of order that day, leaving them no choice but to take the stairs.

Lin Qiao and Shen Qingzhou climbed the stairs, watching the floor numbers rise one by one. She couldn’t help but groan: “When will we ever reach the 11th floor?”

Shen Qingzhou glanced at her. Her forehead was already covered in sweat. After just a few floors, she was already dragging her feet, her steps small but heavy, making him worry the building might collapse under her.

He had been about to scold her, but when he turned his head and saw the gentle swaying of her chest as she climbed, all words stuck in his throat.

The soft curves hidden beneath her white blouse were enough to make his mouth dry. His breath caught, and before he could think, he found himself saying, almost involuntarily: “Do you want me to carry you?”

Lin Qiao paused mid-step, surprised: “You’re serious?” She pointed at the sign for the sixth floor. “We still have five floors to go.”

But once the words were out, there was no taking them back. Shen Qingzhou wasn’t the kind to go back on his word. He meant what he said. Despite the remaining floors, he silently turned and squatted down with his back to her. The two paused on the flat landing between flights of stairs, neither speaking.

Shen Qingzhou remained silent, waiting for Lin Qiao to climb on. Lin Qiao stayed quiet too, touched by his gesture.

Although Shen Qingzhou had once seriously explained his reasons for liking her, she still felt it wasn’t quite that simple. She had always thought his feelings for her were just a passing phase, a fleeting conquest driven by male pride—nothing reliable. But now, with all he had done for her, she could no longer ignore his feelings or refuse to respond.

Slowly climbing onto his back, Lin Qiao had only intended to let him carry her for a floor or two, just to test him. But to her surprise, he kept going, carrying her up seven more floors without stopping, his steps steady and effortless, as if he were walking on flat ground.

By the time they reached the ninth floor, Lin Qiao asked him for the third time to let her down. But Shen Qingzhou refused: “We’re almost there.”

Lin Qiao looked at the sweat on his forehead with concern. Even though he tried to appear relaxed, he must be tired. Climbing so many floors carrying someone as big as her would exhaust anyone, especially someone as privileged as Shen Qingzhou.

When they reached the tenth floor, Lin Qiao finally couldn’t help but ask: “Shen Qingzhou, do you really like me that much?”

He paused for a moment, then resumed walking normally, calmly asking: “Why do I have to say it out loud?”

Lin Qiao bit her lip: “Because Li Mianning from *No One Cheers* said something.”

“From a Wang Shuo novel? What did he say that made you so insistent?” he asked casually.

Lin Qiao replied: “You really do read a lot. He said, ‘Did he say he loves you? You have to make him say it out loud, so that when he regrets it later, you can use those words to shame him.’”

After hearing this, Shen Qingzhou stopped walking. Lin Qiao looked up and realized they had already reached the eleventh floor. He stood there, gazing down at her, while she looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. After a long moment, he finally said slowly: “Absurd.” Then he turned away, his straight, tall figure like a proud, elegant pine tree. But his silence was infuriating—she almost wanted to kick him down the stairs.

“I’ll go in by myself. You wait outside,” she said deliberately.

Shen Qingzhou looked at her and said firmly: “I’m going in with you. No discussion.”

“Then I won’t go,” she pretended to turn back.

Shen Qingzhou studied her for a moment, as if thinking, then finally said: “Fine. I won’t go in.” He stepped behind the door, where the angle would make him invisible to whoever opened it.

Lin Qiao was stunned that he actually agreed. She had only meant to provoke him, but he actually accepted.

“Not going in?” Shen Qingzhou focused on her, then casually pressed the doorbell and politely said, “No need to thank me.”

For some reason, his behavior made her feel unexpectedly guilty. When Qin Muyao finally opened the door slowly, looking pale and heading straight to the bedroom, she couldn’t help but pull Shen Qingzhou out from behind the door.

Coincidentally, Qin Muyao was indeed seriously ill. He walked in slowly, his back looking exhausted.

So, unbeknownst to Qin Muyao, Shen Qingzhou had come along too.

Shen Qingzhou’s dark eyes swept over Lin Qiao as they entered together. She wanted to call out to Qin Muyao and tell him, but the moment they stepped inside, Shen Qingzhou turned and disappeared into the kitchen.

“You…”

Lin Qiao couldn’t help but gasp softly. Qin Muyao’s hoarse voice came from the bedroom: “Qiaoqiao, what’s wrong?”

Shen Qingzhou didn’t come out of the kitchen. Lin Qiao realized he had decided to pretend he wasn’t there, so she could only say: “Nothing.”

She forced herself to walk into the bedroom. Qin Muyao had already sat on the edge of the bed. The modern, black-and-white décor was sharp and minimalist, perfectly matching his personality.

Hearing her footsteps, he looked up weakly, offering a faint smile: “Rest a bit. I remember the elevator’s broken today. Climbing all those floors must’ve been exhausting.”

If he hadn’t mentioned it, she wouldn’t have thought about it. But now, she couldn’t help but recall how Shen Qingzhou had carried her. He must be really tired… So she nodded.

Qin Muyao smiled faintly: “That’s one good thing about little girls—you’re honest.” He lay back on the bed, his voice thick with congestion: “Do you mind if I rest a bit? My head hurts.”

Lin Qiao hurriedly replied: “That’s exactly why I’m here—to take care of you. Rest first.” She took out the fever medicine from her bag. “I’ll boil some water. You should take this medicine.”

Qin Muyao took off his shoes, got into bed, and pulled the covers over himself as he softly said: “Qiaoqiao, you really don’t know much. Some medicines shouldn’t be taken together. The doctor already prescribed a fever reducer, but I took it late, so it hasn’t kicked in yet.”

Lin Qiao felt helpless: “Then how can I help you?”

Qin Muyao looked at her with half-closed eyes, wanting to say, “Just being here with me is enough,” but he held back, worried about infecting her.

“…Then maybe just boil some water. I’ll drink that,” he finally said after a pause.

Lin Qiao quickly agreed and rushed to the kitchen, making sure to close the bedroom door behind her.

Yes, she had to close it. What if he saw Shen Qingzhou?

Thinking of how Qin Muyao had praised her honesty, Lin Qiao felt a pang of guilt. This was the first time she had ever deceived him since they met—and it was all Shen Qingzhou’s fault.

Now she wanted to see what that troublemaker was doing in the kitchen.

She tiptoed into the kitchen and immediately spotted Shen Qingzhou standing casually by the window, looking outside as if studying the traffic. When he heard her, he glanced back briefly before returning to his observation.

Lin Qiao felt a surge of irritation. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to his back, hoping to make it hard for him to move. But she underestimated his agility.

With practiced ease, he spun around and pinned her against his chest, then turned again, pressing her against the kitchen counter. She had no choice but to sit on the counter to avoid more intimate contact with his lower body.

“What are you doing?” she frowned. “We’re in someone else’s house!” Her hands rested on his solid chest, feeling the warmth of his muscles beneath her fingers. She wanted to pull away, but feared he’d get even closer, so she left her hands stiffly in place.

Shen Qingzhou looked at her calmly, then roughly unbuttoned the top of his shirt. His dark eyes shimmered as he suddenly kissed her.

He pinned her hands between their chests, forcefully parting her lips and deeply exploring her mouth, tasting every corner. The tightness between them forced Lin Qiao to lean back to avoid falling off the counter. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his slim waist, the cold hardness of his belt pressing against her abdomen through her skirt.

“Mmm…” She couldn’t help a soft moan, not even realizing she hadn’t resisted much. Her mind was a blur, forgetting where she was, forgetting everything around her, lost only in the kiss.

The intense, charged atmosphere was finally broken when he mercifully pulled away slightly.

He whispered teasingly in her ear: “Shh… Don’t make a sound. Don’t let your Senior Qin hear.”