Just after spending one night away, Aunt Zhang and Aunt Li greeted their return with overwhelming enthusiasm.
The sound of the front door opening reached their ears.
Aunt Zhang hurried forward to take the canvas bag from Sang Lu’s hands, then handed her a warm towel to wipe her fingers.
Meanwhile, Aunt Li, after hanging Feng Yan’s suit on the coat rack by the entrance, rushed toward the housekeeper’s quarters while calling the chef on the phone.
"Hello? Yes, the master and madam are back. Remember to prepare madam’s favorite dishes tonight."
After the call, in the blink of an eye, Aunt Zhang and Aunt Li pulled Sang Lu aside, affectionately asking:
"Madam, did you have fun?"
"The food outside couldn’t compare to home, right? I made sweet soup—are you hungry? Should I bring you a bowl first?"
"Madam, while you were away, I broke the high score in your game."
Feng Yan paused slightly.
This was the first time he had seen Aunt Zhang and Aunt Li act like this.
They had come to Qinghe Bay from the old family estate, having worked for the Feng family for over a decade.
Yet now, they seemed as if they had been with Sang Lu for just as long.
Though their conversations were trivial and scattered,
they filled the cold house with an unfamiliar, warm atmosphere.
After dinner,
Feng Yan worked in his study,
the door left open.
The sound of the TV drifted in.
He no longer resisted noise as he once had.
He had trained himself to focus amid the background chatter of My Own Swordsman or iPartment, handling work and reviewing tedious documents without distraction.
Lifting his gaze, he saw Sang Lu curled up on the sofa.
Hugging a pillow, she laughed lightly, engrossed in the show.
Feng Yan looked away,
returning his attention to the computer,
buried in endless work.
Much later,
when he noticed one sound missing from the background noise, he glanced up to find Sang Lu asleep on the sofa, still clutching the pillow.
As his gaze lingered, she shifted slightly, tightening her hold on it.
Feng Yan’s eyes flickered.
After a silent moment,
he exhaled faintly, as if resigned.
Pushing back his chair, he stepped out of the study.
His tall figure loomed beside the sofa, the overhead light blocked, his shadow draping over Sang Lu’s sleeping face.
Her fair cheeks glowed with a soft blush, lashes fluttering with each breath, lips pink and slightly parted.
Curled on her side, her wavy hair cascaded over her neck, the loose collar of her top slipping to reveal a hint of delicate collarbone.
His gaze darkened before he forced it away.
Turning, he walked into the bedroom.
When he returned, he carried a blanket.
...
Half an hour later,
Sang Lu was woken by her phone’s notifications.
Noticing the blanket draped over her, she rubbed her eyes drowsily.
Aunt Zhang happened to pass through the living room with freshly laundered clothes, heading to the wardrobe.
Suddenly, a voice stopped her.
"Aunt Zhang, thank you~"
Sang Lu smiled at her.
Aunt Zhang: "?"
Before she could ask what for, Sang Lu had already stretched and sat up, checking her messages.
The group chat for Team D showed 99+ unread messages...
Sang Lu scrolled up, skimming the conversation.
The discussion had exploded after Yu Xiaoke sent a voice message.
Tapping it, Yu Xiaoke’s excited voice played—
"I went to Studio C today and caught Xie Sinan recording a show. I watched for a bit—oh my god, he’s amazing! So quick-witted, never lets a single remark fall flat."
"And get this—when the props malfunctioned, he improvised flawlessly. The audience was in stitches!"
"He’s unreal. His ability to think on his feet is next-level."
Another colleague replied via voice note:
"Right? Xie Sinan’s an all-rounder. Not just hosting—remember when he and Sang Lu did that presentation together? His logic was razor-sharp, and he explained everything so clearly. Sang Lu held her own too, matching a pro host like it was nothing."
Sang Lu had planned to listen to just a couple, but hearing herself praised made her lips curl.
Pleased, she tapped the next message.
"Where do you even find a guy this handsome AND hardworking?"
"Nothing beats a man who takes his job seriously. Who’s with me…?"
At this, Sang Lu instinctively glanced up—
toward the study.
Sure enough, workaholic Feng Yan was still at it.
When her colleague said "a man who takes his job seriously is the most attractive," she wholeheartedly agreed.
But as for "where to find a guy this handsome and hardworking," Sang Lu only needed to lift her eyes to see one.
From school to her career at the TV station, among all the men she’d met, Feng Yan was the only one who fit both descriptions.
In twenty-five years, she’d encountered just one.
Truly a rare breed.
With that thought,
Sang Lu pressed the voice button,
joining the conversation:
"Yeah, men like that are hard to come by. One in a million, honestly."
Her bright, amused tone carried clearly into the study—where a certain man with sharp hearing caught every word.
Including the earlier messages from her phone.
His hand stilled on the mouse.
A shadow flickered imperceptibly in his dark eyes.
As soon as Sang Lu sent her reply, colleagues chimed in—
"See? Even Lu Lu thinks so!"
"Lu Lu’s worked with Xie Sinan on business trips—she knows how professional he is. Her opinion counts."
Huh?
She hadn’t been praising Xie Sinan—just responding to the general sentiment.
Oh well.
No need to clarify.
She wasn’t one to kill the mood in a chat.
She played along.
Soon, the topic shifted to a comedy show from a rival network, and everyone started riffing on punchlines.
Sang Lu happily typed along.
Then, a figure passed by.
Feng Yan emerged from the study and entered the home gym.
Minutes later,
the dull thuds of fists hitting a sandbag echoed out.
The sound made Sang Lu’s scalp prickle.
She’d meant to tell Feng Yan next time: You don’t need to train anymore.
But hearing those relentless thwacks, she hesitated.
And hesitated.
And never knocked.
Fine. It’s his hobby. Don’t ruin it for him.
Stay positive.
Support his interests.
Right.
