As evening fell,
After a full day of scorching sun, the earth exhaled waves of dry heat that rose quietly from the ground, mingling with the ripe fragrance of grass and trees—a scent unique to this season.
A black sedan pulled out of the underground garage and plunged headlong into summer.
Sang Lu sat in the passenger seat, her chin resting on her arm, the loose strands of hair by her cheeks fluttering slightly in the breeze.
She smiled, inhaling the air.
Her entire face spelled out one word—bliss.
But that feeling came to an abrupt halt when the man in the driver’s seat reached over and took her hand.
Sang Lu: "…"
She truly couldn’t understand.
Was her hand really that fun to play with?
At every red light, Feng Yan would pull it over, leisurely kneading her fingers, never tiring of it.
If the light lasted longer, he wouldn’t stop at just playing—he’d bring her hand to his lips, pressing featherlight kisses to her knuckles before letting go, as natural as breathing.
He didn’t smile, nor did he say anything unnecessary.
As if toying with her hand was just another step in his driving routine.
The faint warmth of his breath brushed against her skin, sending tingles cascading from her hand down her entire body.
Finally, when her hand was pulled over for the fifth time, she slumped her shoulders and turned to him with resignation.
Her lips parted, about to speak, but she met Feng Yan’s leisurely gaze instead.
His face was cool and impassive, his other hand resting on the steering wheel, long fingers tapping idly—his rhythm suggesting he was in an excellent mood.
Their eyes locked.
Feng Yan’s handsome brow lifted slightly, softening his otherwise icy demeanor.
As if silently asking: What?
Sang Lu hesitated.
The words died in her throat.
She slowly averted her gaze: "…"
Fine.
Let him have his way.
What else could she do?
It was her own fault.
One look from him, and she was paralyzed.
Pathetic.
Who asked her to fall for this silent, stone-faced, ridiculously handsome man?
As she sighed inwardly, the traffic light turned green.
Sang Lu seized the chance to pull back her now-warm hand.
She pulled out her phone and scrolled through Weibo’s trending topics.
After a while, she lost interest.
Muttering under her breath, as if making idle conversation, she said,
"Entertainment news is so dull these days… No juicy scandals in ages."
This wasn’t a topic Feng Yan could engage with.
His knowledge of the entertainment industry was even worse than Old Master Feng’s.
Yet, despite having nothing to say, he still responded with a quiet, "Hm."
His expression remained that of a straight-faced, utterly clueless man.
Sang Lu looked at him and suddenly snorted, amused.
He was cute.
The thought had barely formed before she stiffened, forcefully cutting it off.
Sang Lu, oh Sang Lu.
Stop thinking this man is cute, will you?
"Cute" was a word usually reserved for small, delicate, adorable things.
Open your eyes and look properly!
Close them and think carefully!
Did this six-foot-three, eight-pack abs man have even a shred of "small and delicate" about him?
As she thought this, her expression froze.
A certain painful memory resurfaced.
Grumbling, she opened WeChat and started typing.
Feng Yan glanced sideways at her.
Sang Lu immediately tensed, tilting her phone away defensively.
His dark eyes flickered with confusion. "What’s wrong?"
"Changing your contact name," she answered without looking up, thumbs tapping decisively.
"To what?"
"Not telling you."
Feng Yan: "?"
His handsome features grew even more puzzled, his gaze sharpening as if trying to see through her.
Then, a sudden, hopeful thought crossed his mind.
Was she changing it to something similar to what he had for her?
In his line of sight, Sang Lu’s face was illuminated by the screen, her eyes sparkling faintly.
Adorable.
Unable to resist, he reached over and ruffled her naturally curly hair.
Sang Lu’s head dipped under the weight of his large hand, her neck instinctively shrinking back. Her brows knitted together as she turned to glare at him.
"Eyes on the road!"
Her voice, louder than usual, cut through the quiet car like a sudden shout.
Feng Yan blinked, momentarily taken aback.
From her scrunched-up, glaring expression, he was suddenly reminded of the sticker she often sent him—I’m super fierce.jpg
Was this what she meant by "fierce"?
A soft chuckle escaped him as he lowered his gaze and refocused on driving.
"Got it."
…
By the time they arrived at the restaurant, the sky had darkened into a clear, deep blue.
Feng Yi stood at the entrance, waving enthusiastically at the familiar black car.
"Big bro! Sis-in-law!"
When the two stepped out and approached, Feng Yi paused.
He pointed at Sang Lu.
"Sis-in-law, you’ve got a mosquito bite on your neck."
Squinting, his eyebrows shot up in exaggerated surprise.
"Damn, are the mosquitoes this vicious already? That’s a huge bite…"
Turning to a nearby waiter, he asked,
"Hey, you got any bug spray? Can you spray around our private room?"
Sang Lu blinked, belatedly realizing what he meant. Instinctively, she raised a hand to brush her hair forward—
But before she could, a large hand enveloped hers.
Feng Yan strode past, unfazed, leading her inside without a word.
Ignoring her younger brother's noisy antics, Sang Lu walked ahead without a backward glance.
"Hey, big bro, sis-in-law—wait for me!" Feng Yi's chatter echoed behind them.
He scrambled to catch up while still turning back to instruct the waiter: "Make sure you spray more repellent—the mosquitoes these days are vicious, absolutely terrifying!"
Sang Lu's ears flushed scarlet in an instant.
She tightened her grip on the hand holding hers and tugged Feng Yan's arm downward.
Feng Yan tilted his head, glancing down to meet a pair of pitch-black, clear eyes glaring fixedly at him—her expression a mix of frustration and silent accusation.
His face froze for a second: "?"
Huh. She does look fierce.
The thought flickered through his mind.
Then, the sharp lines of his handsome face softened into a lazy, roguish grin.
Now it was Sang Lu's turn to be baffled: "?"
What the hell?
She'd practically cursed him out with her glare.
And yet—he was smiling?
She wanted to scold him properly, to call him out on his empty promises.
That whole "next time I'll be careful, no marks in visible places" speech? Absolute nonsense!
Not only had he not kept his word, he'd gone even further.
Utterly shameless.
But the moment her eyes met his—cool, careless, and unfairly captivating—every sharp word lodged in her throat.
Ugh!
Internally, Sang Lu was stomping her feet like an enraged Sun Wukong.
The agony.
She hated being such a sucker for a pretty face.
