Sang Lu felt a hand rest on her shoulder, leaving her own hand suspended mid-air with nowhere to go. After a moment’s hesitation, she had no choice but to loop her arm around Feng Yan’s waist, gripping the edge of his T-shirt for balance.
The VIP floor was empty, devoid of other patients.
In the hallway, two figures stood out—one tall and imposing, the other slender and graceful.
Given the stark contrast in their builds, it might have seemed like Sang Lu was lending Feng Yan her shoulder for support.
In reality, it felt more like she was being held hostage by him.
She moved in an awkward, almost comical posture, "assisting" him down the corridor.
It was only then that Sang Lu belatedly realized Feng Yan’s calm exterior was just a facade.
Beneath that indifferent, composed surface, every one of his actions carried an undeniable air of dominance.
When he had unceremoniously pulled her close by the waist during their visit to the old family home, it had been the same.
And when he’d casually drawn her to him at night, it was no different.
If he wanted to close the distance between them, he did so without giving her the chance to push him away.
Now, that feeling was more pronounced than ever.
She had noticed within just a few steps—Feng Yan’s breathing hadn’t quickened, and there was no sign of a headache weighing on him.
He might as well have been taking a leisurely stroll.
Yet, even as they reached the VIP floor’s sky garden, his arm remained draped over her shoulder.
Not too heavy, not too light—with no intention of letting go.
If he didn’t want to release her, she had no hope of breaking free.
She couldn’t tell if it was her imagination, but several times when she glanced up, she caught the faintest quirk at the corner of Feng Yan’s lips—as if he were suppressing a smile.
The sky garden was breathtakingly beautiful.
Their footsteps echoed softly against the wooden pathway, a quiet creak accompanying each step.
They walked in silence, neither disturbing the tranquil moment.
All around them, the world felt fresh and alive.
The greenery, washed clean by the rain, glowed an even deeper shade of emerald.
When Sang Lu lifted her gaze, she found Feng Yan right beside her.
His dark hair was slightly disheveled, falling over his sharp brow. The usual coldness in his eyes had faded, replaced by the gentle warmth of sunlight after the storm.
He looked breathtaking.
As if sensing her gaze, Feng Yan glanced down.
Their eyes met.
Caught staring, Sang Lu blinked rapidly, feigning innocence.
To distract him, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind:
"Has Cheng Zai’s tire been fixed yet?"
The question slipped out before she could stop herself.
Even she found it odd.
Had she missed Cheng Zai that much?
Just as she was puzzling over it, she noticed a flicker in Feng Yan’s dark eyes.
He looked away.
His voice was calm. "I’ll ask in a few days."
A few more days?
Just how badly worn were Cheng Zai’s tires?
Sang Lu couldn’t help but worry.
That evening, they returned to Qinghe Bay.
The city, freshly drenched by the storm, gleamed under the streetlights.
Buds that had endured the downpour slowly unfurled in the evening breeze, tender shoots reaching for the sky.
By unspoken agreement, neither of them brought up the topic of Feng Yan’s selective mutism that night.
Sang Lu wasn’t in a hurry.
Feng Yan had promised he would tell her when he was ready.
She could wait.
……
On the other side of the city, inside a café, Fang Assistant sat across from Guan Shiqing.
"Miss Guan, I’m here on Feng Yan’s behalf," he said without preamble.
Guan Shiqing’s nervous expression instantly brightened.
Ever since her whispered confession in the stairwell the previous afternoon, she had been unsure whether Feng Yan had heard her—and if he had, what his reaction would be.
Now, his personal assistant had sought her out.
Could it be… her words had made an impact?
Had Feng Yan sent someone to dig deeper into Sang Lu’s misdeeds?
"Feng Yan?" Guan Shiqing feigned surprise, though a glimmer of hope shone through. "He asked you to come?"
Fang Assistant’s tone was icy. "Two things. First, you’re no longer employed at Feng Corporation. Nor will any of our affiliated companies hire you."
Guan Shiqing’s face paled.
"Does… does Feng Yan misunderstand me?"
Why?
She had only spoken the truth.
Fang Assistant smirked.
"Miss Guan, don’t flatter yourself. Feng Yan has no opinion of you—let alone a misunderstanding."
Guan Shiqing’s lips trembled.
Fang Assistant continued, "You’re being terminated for unprofessional conduct. Repeatedly overstepping your role is unacceptable at Feng Corporation."
Guan Shiqing opened her mouth to protest, but Fang Assistant cut her off.
"Feng Yan doesn’t care who you are. If an employee fails to meet expectations, they’re dismissed. No exceptions."
Guan Shiqing couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
Had all her efforts left no impression on him at all?
What did that make her now?
Was she truly so insignificant to him?
Fang Assistant added, "Normally, HR would handle your termination. But today, there’s a second matter."
His gaze sharpened, a rare sternness replacing his usual professionalism.
"Feng Yan has ordered surveillance on you. If you ever appear near Sang Lu again—or attempt to spread rumors about her—you will be intercepted. What happens then… well, I can’t guarantee your safety. Consider this a courtesy warning."
His tone remained polite, but the threat beneath his words sent a chill down Guan Shiqing’s spine.
Tears welled in her eyes, her throat tight. "Feng Yan, he—"
He was willing to go this far to protect Sang Lu?
A sob escaped her as the reality crashed down.
"You have no right to—" Rage and humiliation twisted together as Guan Shiqing raised her voice, drawing stares from nearby patrons.
Fang Assistant didn’t let her finish. He pushed back his chair and stood.
"We don’t need a right. This isn’t a negotiation—it’s a warning. Test us if you dare."
With that, he strode out of the café, leaving Guan Shiqing behind.
Her tears streaked through her meticulously applied makeup.
Fingers clutching the tablecloth, she wept silently.
She knew, without a doubt, that any chance of getting close to Feng Yan was gone forever.
……
Back at Qinghe Bay, Feng Yan stepped out of the shower to find his phone lighting up on the nightstand.
A message from Fang Assistant: [Done.]
He turned off the screen.
His gaze drifted to the woman asleep on the bed.
A strand of hair had tangled against her neck. Sang Lu shifted restlessly, rolling onto her side.
Exhausted from last night’s insomnia, she slept deeply now.
Unaware that someone’s fingers gently brushed the stray lock away.
Unaware that the hand lingered, fingertips lightly stroking her hair before finally withdrawing.
