Chapter 17:

Shen Qingzhou’s sudden move was so startling that Lin Qiao froze in place. By the time she realized what was happening, he had already devoured her tofu completely.

She quickly tried to retreat to avoid his kiss, but Shen Qingzhou was much faster. As she pulled back, he leaned forward, resulting in her falling onto the sofa with him on top of her.

Lin Qiao had the kind of figure—long-limbed, slightly curvy—with an especially alluring chest line. Lying down, the loose neckline of her summer dress exposed an enticing view. Combined with her quickened breathing, the gentle rise and fall of her chest seemed almost deliberately provocative.

Using both hands, Lin Qiao pushed against Shen Qingzhou’s chest. Her large eyes glared at him, a mix of anger and surprise in them. He held her gaze for a moment before murmuring, “Talk to me. Say anything.”

She snapped, “Even if I curse you?”

Shen Qingzhou replied earnestly, “Even if you curse me.”

Lin Qiao felt like her punch had hit cotton. After a moment of silence, she pushed harder, trying to shove him off—but failed completely.

Frustrated and confused, she looked up at him and asked, “One moment you’re like this, the next you’re like that. What exactly do you want?”

Shen Qingzhou’s lips curled slightly in an ambiguous smile. He leaned down further; her resistance was practically meaningless to him.

“The guest should be welcomed,” he whispered by her ear. “Don’t be so stingy. It’s just a kiss, and it’s not even the first time.”

Lin Qiao stared at the ceiling, conflicted as she replied, “What kind of twisted logic is that? By your logic, anyone who visits my house can just kiss me, and if I refuse, I’m the stingy one?”

Upon hearing this, Shen Qingzhou rolled to the side and released her. Standing beside the sofa, he looked down at her and said, “Fine then. Just let me be the only one allowed to kiss you, and you won’t be stingy.”

Regaining her freedom, Lin Qiao quickly moved behind the sofa, giving him a look like he was a mental patient. Just as she was about to speak, he added, “Besides, you peeked at my phone earlier. We’re even.”

Lin Qiao felt a little guilty but still retorted, “I took your phone because I was afraid it would get wet and ruined. And I did unlock it with your permission—you even told me the password.”

Shen Qingzhou let out a scoff. “That was under the condition you wouldn’t do anything else.”

“I didn’t do anything else!” Lin Qiao shot back, though her voice lacked confidence.

Shen Qingzhou replied calmly, “You know exactly what I mean.” He didn’t continue the topic, instead picking up the remote and turning on the TV.

The TV was paused on the news channel, broadcasting an international conference. After the fluent English speech by the spokesperson came a pleasant male voice translating into Chinese—this simultaneous interpreter sounded very familiar.

Shen Qingzhou slightly furrowed his brow and reached back to grab Lin Qiao’s arm. She instinctively struggled a bit before hearing him say seriously, “Don’t move. Come sit with me and watch the TV.”

Puzzled, Lin Qiao stared at the back of his head. They had just been arguing about something so intense—how could he so quickly switch to being so composed? Though her face remained expressionless, she mentally flipped him the bird.

“Shen Qingzhou, stop watching,” Lin Qiao walked around and grabbed the remote, switching off the TV despite the slight frown on his face. She insisted firmly, “Explain yourself—your behavior just now, and the last time you had a fever. Why did you do that?”

Shen Qingzhou folded his arms across his chest, looked straight into her eyes, and said clearly yet softly, “Didn’t that voice on TV sound familiar?”

Lin Qiao blinked, puzzled. Shen Qingzhou calmly changed the topic: “It’s Qin Muyao.”

Lin Qiao slowly realized he was referring to the interpreter on the news just now. Now that he mentioned it, the voice did sound like Qin Muyao’s.

“What’s wrong with that?” Lin Qiao frowned. “Qin senior majored in foreign languages in school, just like me. Isn’t it normal for him to work in this field?”

Shen Qingzhou nodded thoughtfully. “Then why didn’t you go into this line of work?”

“Because of my family, of course…” Lin Qiao had barely spoken half when she suddenly realized he had changed the topic again. Instantly furious, she grabbed the pillow from the sofa and threw it at him, then pounced on him, punching him with all the force of a fluffy kitten—her soft, gentle fists had practically zero impact.

Shen Qingzhou let her flail around on him until her leg accidentally touched a sensitive area. Then he sharply stopped her, gripping her shoulders and pulling her close. “Enough. Be good.”

Lin Qiao pursed her lips and tried to break free, but predictably failed.

She leaned against him, sulking, turning her gaze elsewhere. Shen Qingzhou looked at her stubborn little face and slowly, deliberately said, “Lin Qiao, I know you really want to know the reason.”

Lin Qiao immediately looked at him. “Obviously!”

Shen Qingzhou smiled faintly, gazing at her seriously. “I can tell you, but not now—because I haven’t completely won you over yet.” He gently brushed her disheveled hair back, his eyelashes lowering slightly, long and thick like fluttering butterfly wings. “When you understand this sentence, you’ll know the answer.”

Lin Qiao felt a bit dazed. She felt the words were somehow intimate, but wasn’t sure if she was overthinking it.

But considering his suspicious behavior, she thought she probably wasn’t wrong.

She opened her mouth, ready to ask more thoroughly, but Shen Qingzhou placed a finger over her lips, his voice hoarse. “Shh, don’t speak. I don’t accept rejection. Don’t say anything unless you have the answer I want. I’ll be sleeping in the guest room downstairs tonight. If you’re scared during a thunderstorm, come find me.” His finger brushed over her soft, pink lips as he smiled. “Consider it a thank-you for your hospitality.”

With that, he rose and walked steadily toward the guest room. Lin Qiao, touching her lips, watched his back disappear, vaguely understanding his meaning.

He was a very proud man who didn’t accept rejection or differing opinions. If her answer was to hand him the “nice guy” card, he’d rather say nothing at all, burying his feelings completely.

Tonight, he had revealed just a little, probably because of the moment’s circumstances—or maybe…

Lin Qiao touched her rapidly beating heart. She thought, he probably saw through that tiny, embarrassing little thought buried deep inside her.

But why? It was understandable for her to have feelings for him—he was so great, and they’d known each other for quite a while. But what about him? When did he start having feelings for her? And why?

Lin Qiao thought hard about every moment of their past interactions but couldn’t make sense of it. Eventually, she decided to just go to sleep first.

Back in her room, she locked the door and glanced at the clock before calling her father.

The call was answered by his assistant. It turned out her dad, despite promising not to drink too much, had still lost control. He had drunk several clients under the table and ended up drunk himself. The assistant had booked hotel rooms for everyone.

After hanging up, Lin Qiao slowly came to a realization—that tonight, she and Shen Qingzhou were the only two in the house.

So how was it that she fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow?

The next morning, while brushing her teeth and looking at herself in the mirror, Lin Qiao grumbled. White foam filled her mouth, and she rinsed in a bad mood, changed clothes, and went downstairs.

As she descended, she saw two tall, handsome men in the living room. Upon hearing her footsteps, both turned to look. Seeing it was her, they both nodded.

“Miss Lin,” Du Xinling greeted her politely. “Good morning.”

Lin Qiao replied somewhat stiffly, “Hello, Mr. Du.”

Shen Qingzhou said nothing, returning his attention to the pen in his hand before tucking it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He lightly patted his shoulder, as if brushing off invisible dust, and murmured, “Let’s go. No need for a note.”

Du Xinling nodded slightly and said to Lin Qiao, “Then we’ll be off. Miss Lin, goodbye.”

Lin Qiao clenched her fists, hesitated for a moment, and finally asked, “Do you want to have breakfast before leaving?”

Shen Qingzhou paused, seemingly about to turn his head but ultimately deciding against it. Before he could speak, Du Xinling replied, “No need. We’re going to the hospital to have breakfast with Xiao Ning. He searched for his dad all night yesterday, and I barely managed to persuade him to sleep.” He touched his nose and smiled. “Still, thank you for letting Mr. Shen stay overnight. Once his house in Beijing is renovated, it’ll be much more convenient for us.”

“You bought a house in Beijing?” Lin Qiao asked this to Shen Qingzhou.

Shen Qingzhou turned his complex gaze toward her and gave a slight, nasal “Mm.”

Lin Qiao hesitated. “Did you catch a cold?”

Shen Qingzhou didn’t answer, just shook his head, then turned and walked out.

Du Xinling said his goodbyes, and Lin Qiao didn’t stop them further. Holding her phone, she stood there, feeling uneasy.

She had been pretty proactive today, hadn’t she? So why did he seem even more distant? Was this man planning to retreat when she advanced and advance when she retreated?

The two men hadn’t gone far when they heard Lin Qiao’s phone ring with its distinctive system tone. She quickly answered the call, and they faintly heard her say “Senior Qin.”

Shen Qingzhou stopped, turned to go back, but Du Xinling grabbed his wrist and shook his head. “Don’t. Rushing won’t help. You need to play the long game. Understand the art of playing hard to get. Don’t chase too hard—make her chase you instead.”

Shen Qingzhou frowned at him, hesitated, then lowered his voice. “If this backfires, you’ll be the one to answer for it.”

Du Xinling was confident. “Don’t worry. While I may not be as smart or as rich as you, when it comes to chasing girls, I’m better than you.”

Shen Qingzhou let out a cold snort, reluctantly turned back, and left the house with Du Xinling.

Right behind them, Lin Qiao stepped out of the house. As she exited the gate, she just caught sight of the familiar silver-colored Range Rover turning the corner.

She sighed, resignedly walking in the opposite direction, where a modest black Lexus was parked. The driver’s window was open, and Qin Muyao sat inside, wearing a black shirt, black trousers, and a dark gray suit jacket. His gaze, behind his rimless glasses, slowly shifted from the disappearing Range Rover to Lin Qiao, his expression softening from cold to warm.

Qin Muyao greeted her gently, “Qiaoqiao, over here.”