Sang Lu once again had a restless night.
She kept replaying the moment earlier—Feng Yan’s nose had nearly brushed against the nape of her neck!
His steady breaths fanned over her shoulder, the warmth sending her mind into disarray, stirring restless and indecent thoughts.
Every time she felt suffocated and tried to shift slightly, the man behind her would tighten his grip as if afraid she’d escape, holding her firmly in place, leaving her no room to break free.
Good heavens…
Even if she were the most disciplined and principled person, determined not to cross the invisible line between them as a married couple in name only, how could she resist a man like him—top-tier in looks and physique—wrapping his arm around her waist every day and nuzzling against her neck?
Who could withstand such temptation?!
Was it just an unconscious reflex while he slept?
Yet his actions were oddly consistent.
He’d always loosen his hold just before waking, turning away as if nothing had happened, acting completely oblivious to what he’d done.
Sang Lu was baffled.
What… was going on here?
A side effect of his treatment?
Should she consult Doctor Ji about this?
……
By noon, Sang Lu was still mulling over the question while waiting in line for coffee at a shopping district near the TV station.
Perhaps it was because she couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Out of nowhere, she caught a glimpse of a figure on the second floor of the mall—someone who, in her daze, she mistook for Feng Yan.
She looked up.
When she saw the familiar profile, so strikingly similar to Feng Yan’s, Sang Lu froze.
Those signature downturned eyes and a head of ash-blue hair—she recognized him.
It wasn’t her imagination. The person standing there was none other than Feng Bai, whom she’d recently seen at the family estate.
The shopping district near the TV station wasn’t particularly lively, with sparse foot traffic.
The first floor was occupied by coffee shops and bubble tea stores, while the second and third floors housed businesses like training centers, beauty salons, and music studios.
Not exactly a hotspot for young people, nor home to any notable brand stores.
Why was Feng Bai here?
Just as she wondered, her gaze shifted.
She saw Feng Bai walking toward a neon sign shaped like a musical note, brightly displaying the shop’s name in colorful letters: "No Sound Spicy Music Rehearsal Studio."
Sang Lu: "……"
Ah.
That explained it.
A rehearsal studio with such a bizarre name? Totally his scene.
Wait… but didn’t he have his own recording studio? Why come to an external rehearsal space?
"Miss, your coffee’s ready."
The barista’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
Just then, an angry shout drifted down from the second floor—
"Pretty boy! We’ve been watching you for days…"
Sang Lu glanced up, her grip on the coffee cup tightening.
Feng Bai was facing off against a group of guys carrying guitars and bass cases, their expressions hostile. A confrontation was brewing.
By the time Sang Lu picked up her coffee, the situation had escalated.
Their voices grew louder, their words clearer.
"You’ve been hogging the biggest rehearsal room every day—do you ever let anyone else use it?" Guitarist No. 1 snapped at Feng Bai.
Guitarist No. 2 chimed in, "We’ve been keeping tabs on you. You don’t even bring instruments or have a band. Are you just here to pick fights and monopolize the space?"
Sang Lu’s brows furrowed.
Without realizing it, her feet had already carried her toward the stairs leading to the second floor.
As she reached the top, she saw a middle-aged man—likely the studio owner—rush out of "No Sound Spicy Music Rehearsal Studio," his face tense.
"It’s a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding! This customer has booked that room for half a year. There’s no monopolizing here. Everyone’s here for music—let’s keep things civil—"
The owner tried to placate the band, adding,
"—There are other rooms available. I can arrange—"
Before he could finish, the drummer—a burly guy with thick arms—cut him off.
"Oi, boss! This pretty boy clearly doesn’t know a thing about music. Renting to him is a waste!"
His words were directed at Feng Bai, not the owner.
The insult was clear: Feng Bai was just a clueless rich kid, squandering resources.
Feng Bai’s expression darkened. Hands in his pockets, he took a step forward, unfazed by the drummer’s imposing size.
Without even lifting his eyelids, he spoke in a flat, deliberate tone:
"Move."
"Whoa, tough guy, huh?" The bassist stepped in front of Feng Bai, blocking his path. "What if I don’t? What’re you gonna do?"
His last three words were dripping with provocation, each syllable louder than the last.
Sang Lu watched the scene unfold.
The band members were around Feng Bai’s age, but their aggressive, rocker energy clashed sharply with Feng Bai’s gloomy, indifferent aura.
"Can’t be bothered" versus "looking for trouble"—the imbalance was obvious.
Soon, their taunts grew nastier.
They zeroed in on Feng Bai’s expensive headphones and jacket, mocking him relentlessly.
"Bet you’re a total amateur."
"Little rich boy? Quit music and go play with dirt."
"Pale as a ghost—you malnourished or something? Think those twig arms can even hold a guitar?"
Sang Lu’s temper flared.
Sure, she’d teased Feng Bai to his face back at the estate, but her words had been lighthearted.
This? This was outright bullying.
A fierce protectiveness surged in her.
Feng Bai kept his eyes downcast, refusing to acknowledge them.
His lips pressed into a thin line, his frown deepening.
Then—
A figure suddenly darted in front of him.
A clear, composed voice rang out, addressing the band with unshakable authority:
"Not moving? Fine. I’ll call the police—obstructing business operations, verbal harassment, intimidation of customers…"
Feng Bai’s half-lidded eyes snapped open.
When he recognized the person shielding him, unmistakable surprise flickered in his dark, brooding gaze.
Sister-in-law?
What was she doing here?
The band members froze.
Who the hell was this?
Guitarist No. 1 frowned, scrutinizing the woman who’d suddenly appeared.
His eyes trailed down, pausing at her chest—then widening in realization.
Sang Lu had come straight from the TV station during her lunch break, her employee badge still hanging around her neck.
The front read: "Jing City Television." The back listed her department and position.
Right now, the front was visible.
Combined with her unwavering, justice-seeking demeanor, it instantly intimidated the group.
"TV station? She’s a reporter," Guitarist No. 2 muttered, tugging at the bassist’s strap.
"Reporter?"
The bassist stiffened, instinctively stepping back.
Their band had been practicing nonstop for an upcoming audition on a talent show. If this blew up into a scandal, their chance was as good as gone.
Guitarist No. 2 pulled the bassist aside, clearing a path for Feng Bai while grumbling,
"Ugh, buzzkill. Let’s just go find another room."
Sang Lu blinked.
"…?"
Huh???
Just a moment ago, she was all arrogant and domineering, but now she just... left like that?
No intention to argue with her anymore?
How unexpectedly reasonable.
Since when are rock musicians this peaCeful?
While Sang Lu was still puzzling over it, she heard a faint, lifeless voice from behind:
"Eldest sister-in-law."
