Sang Lu was stunned for a long moment.
Suddenly, it dawned on her—Feng Yan must have seen that message from Xiaomei.
Theirs was a marriage of alliance.
Sang Lu had always thought that being able to coexist with Feng Yan respectfully and harmoniously was already something to be grateful for.
She hadn’t expected tonight’s events to unfold so far outside her predictions.
She hadn’t expected him to kiss her.
Nor had she expected him to be curious about the content of that message.
If she had to place these two "unexpected" moments on a scale,
the latter carried far more weight in her heart.
The moment Feng Yan hesitantly voiced his question, she felt her heart skip a beat.
A marriage of alliance wasn’t a contractual marriage—there were no restrictions on physical intimacy. So she didn’t resist his closeness, his arm around her waist, or his kiss. It all felt natural.
But now, his question signaled something deeper.
He was curious.
Curious about her.
Not just her body.
What startled her even more was that, despite knowing Feng Yan wanted to learn about her past, she felt no resistance, not even a trace of aversion.
She realized that if she didn’t have any fondness for Feng Yan,
given her personality, she would’ve bluntly retorted, "None of your damn business."
Instead, here she was,
tilting her head up, carefully considering…
how to answer.
Time seemed to freeze.
Every passing second felt excruciating for Feng Yan.
Unable to hold back any longer, he asked the question that had been circling his mind for days.
He wanted to know more about Sang Lu.
About her younger years.
Ever since he’d stepped into her room that day, he’d wanted to know.
Holding back this long had already been his limit.
He never considered investigating her past—he only wanted to hear it from her lips.
As seconds ticked by…
Watching Sang Lu purse her lips in thought, Feng Yan’s gaze darkened.
He regretted it.
Maybe he shouldn’t have asked.
He dreaded hearing a specific name from her.
That message had mentioned, "Just like the one I liked in high school."
If she answered now, it would mean she still liked that person.
It would mean she only wanted to maintain their marriage as a detached, undisturbed arrangement.
Just as his heart grew heavier…
A clear voice reached his ears, striking him with precision—
"I liked someone who resembled you."
Sang Lu tilted her head up, her eyes curving into crescents as she looked at the tall, stoic man standing before her.
She couldn’t quite make out his expression, but she saw his figure stiffen slightly.
"All the anime characters I liked were just like you—cold and aloof," she added.
Feng Yan spoke slowly, "Anime characters?"
"Yeah," Sang Lu nodded casually, slipping off her shoes as she continued, "I’m fickle yet loyal. The ‘husbandos’ I loved in high school, I still love now~"
Her tone was light,
as if stating an indisputable fact like "two plus two equals four."
Feng Yan paused for a second.
Then let out a quiet, amused breath.
Right.
He’d seen those anime characters pop up in her social media posts countless times.
Yet it never occurred to him that they might be the "people she liked."
He’d been careless.
"The ones in your posts?" Feng Yan remarked coolly, then named two anime characters.
Sang Lu’s eyes slowly brightened. "Wow, you actually know them!"
It wasn’t surprising he knew Akai Shuichi—she’d bombarded him with Detective Conan clips for weeks.
But Sesshoumaru? That was niche even by today’s standards.
"Mm, I looked them up," Feng Yan said.
Sang Lu blinked.
Looked them up…
Because of her posts?
Heat rushed to her cheeks without warning.
She quickly finished changing into slippers and stood up.
Only then did she get a proper look at Feng Yan’s face.
Under the light, his sharp, handsome features stood out—deep-set eyes clear and dark, his coldly elegant brows relaxed, his broad shoulders and well-defined arms accentuated by his fitted shirt.
Hnngh—
Yep. Exactly her type.
Once again, she agreed with Xiaomei’s assessment.
Sang Lu steadied herself.
Pivoting on her heel, she headed toward the living room.
"Let’s play the console. I’ve been mentally rehearsing all through dinner, just waiting to show off my skills tonight."
She hadn’t forgotten her promise to him.
With the topic diverted to anime, her earlier flustered heartbeat gradually settled.
Her lips curled into a grin,
her usual carefree demeanor returning.
Suddenly, she raised a hand, pointing dramatically at the tall, impassive man who followed a step behind.
Trash-talking like it was a pre-game showdown:
"Director Feng, today I’ll prove that even a ‘hexagon warrior’ like you has weaknesses. No way you’re beating me at this!"
"…" Feng Yan stilled.
Then,
lowering his gaze, a soft chuckle escaped him.
"Bring it."
……
An hour later.
Sang Lu stared at the screen, then turned to scrutinize the man beside her.
"You’re seriously playing this for the first time?"
"Mm."
Feng Yan leaned back on the couch, legs slightly apart, his slender fingers idly gripping the controller—the picture of nonchalance.
But to Sang Lu, his usual cool detachment now radiated one word: "Provocation."
"How are you this good on your first try?" she demanded.
Feng Yan hesitated, unsure how to answer.
Honestly, the game wasn’t that hard…
"Let’s switch games," Sang Lu declared, competitive fire igniting. "I need to win!"
Feng Yan: "…"
Another hour passed…
"No way. Absolutely no way!"
Sang Lu paced in front of the TV, arms crossed.
"How did you break my high score on three different games? That’s not scientifically possible…"
She halted mid-step.
Whirling around, she fixed Feng Yan—who was calmly sipping water—with a suspicious glare:
"You must’ve played these while I was out. Admit it!"
Feng Yan’s grip on his glass tightened imperceptibly.
His typically aloof face showed a rare flicker of helplessness.
He met her gaze: "…"
"Again!" Sang Lu ruffled her curly hair and flopped back onto the couch.
Her expression turned dead serious.
All other thoughts vanished.
Feng Yan’s intimidating aura?
Irrelevant.
The fact that they’d been making out passionately in the car hours ago, only to now be locked in a gaming battle?
No time to dwell.
Her eyes burned with a single mantra—"I will win!"
……
Over the next half-hour,
Sang Lu began suspecting Feng Yan was going easy on her.
Every time his movements seemed off, she shot him a sharp look.
"Don’t you dare hold back. That ruins the fun."
Amusement glinted in Feng Yan’s eyes.
He’d known she’d hate being handed a victory. Even if losing made her pout, true satisfaction came from earning it.
"I’m playing seriously," he assured, eyes on the screen.
Sang Lu rolled up her sleeves, nodding approvingly. "Good."
……
As the clock struck midnight,
Sang Lu collapsed onto the couch with a long exhale.
Haa—
Finally, a win.
Feng Yan turned, his gaze warm as he watched her.
Sang Lu sat up, meeting his eyes, and muttered defensively, "I could’ve won the earlier rounds too, just… wasn’t at my best today."
Feng Yan stared into her eyes, his gaze pausing briefly.
Upon hearing her words, his eyes involuntarily drifted downward, lingering on her still slightly swollen lips.
Sang Lu was still mentally replaying the reasons for losing the game.
She didn’t notice the darkening intensity in the man’s gaze before her.
As if pondering her words, he repeated in a low voice:
"Tired... not in good condition..."
Almost as though it was his fault?
