Cheng Jinlan thought, he really is addicted to jealousy, even making a fuss about a name. However, she realized she had indeed never called him Chengze before. She silently repeated the name in her mind, feeling a bit awkward. She was more accustomed to calling him by his full name.
Shao Chengze had no objections to gaining another new name. "Chengcu is fine too. I love sour things anyway, so the name suits me."
Cheng Jinlan glared at his lazy demeanor and glanced at the hat on his head. "Your head injury hasn't healed yet?"
Shao Chengze replied meaningfully, "The real issue now isn’t the injury on my head."
Cheng Jinlan didn’t engage further. "I’m going to take a nap. Wake me when we arrive."
"Sleep well," Shao Chengze surprisingly didn’t push further.
Cheng Jinlan only pretended to sleep, keeping her eyes closed but not actually dozing off. As soon as the car stopped, she opened her eyes.
"Awake?" Shao Chengze leaned over.
Caught off guard by his sudden movement, she shifted, and they bumped into each other. Her shoulder knocked off his hat, revealing the bruise on his forehead—yesterday’s redness had turned into a dark purple.
"Why haven’t you applied any medicine?" Cheng Jinlan gently touched the bruise, which looked severe.
Shao Chengze unbuckled her seatbelt, bringing them even closer. He gazed intently into her eyes. "Probably because I wanted to win your sympathy."
He had striking eyes—narrow at the corners, with dark, bright pupils. She could clearly see her reflection in them, surrounded by his unwavering attention.
In such quiet, even the slightest sound couldn’t be hidden, let alone the loud thumping of her heartbeat. At her age, such an erratic heartbeat seemed abnormal—she wasn’t a teenager anymore.
Cheng Jinlan pressed hard on the bruise. Shao Chengze hissed in pain, their nearly touching noses pulling apart.
"See, it’s not me who’s in pain," she said with a smirk, pushing him away, grabbing her bag, and stepping out of the car.
Shao Chengze leaned out the window, resting his arm on the frame, his forehead a mix of purple and red. "Even a husband-killer wouldn’t be as ruthless as you, Boss Cheng."
His voice was low. Cheng Jinlan, entering the passcode, retorted, "If you’ve got the guts, don’t whisper."
Shao Chengze glanced at the lit-up house next door. "Better not test your father’s patience. If I raised my voice, the beating I avoided yesterday might double today."
Cheng Jinlan scoffed, pushed the door open, took a step, then turned back, leaning against the frame. "Park the car and come in."
Shao Chengze was taken aback.
"Not coming? Fine, I’ll close the door." She didn’t wait for his response, walking into the yard.
"Don’t close it—coming!"
In his haste, Shao Chengze hit his head on the window and his waist on the steering wheel. A muffled groan escaped as Cheng Jinlan smiled to herself.
She wouldn’t always let him lead her around.
Inside the brightly lit house, Shao Chengze still felt a surreal floating sensation. He took her bag and set it aside, then offered his arm to steady her as she changed into slippers.
"Why the sudden invitation?"
Cheng Jinlan, now shorter without her heels but no less commanding, glanced up at him. "You didn’t want to come in?"
Shao Chengze lifted her onto the cabinet, leveling their gazes. "Only a fool wouldn’t."
"Exactly," she said, pinching his earlobe, rubbing and tugging until it turned red. "You’re always scheming, playing pitiful, setting traps for me. Can’t I turn the tables?"
Shao Chengze caged her with his arms. "Feel free to turn them anytime. I like it when you do."
"Dream on."
Cheng Jinlan lowered her eyes, her slender neck forming a graceful curve under the light. Shao Chengze’s gaze darkened like an unfathomable sea, his breath inching closer. She kicked his knee with her dangling foot. "Move. It’s hot, and I’m sweaty. I need a shower."
Her fair ankle against his black pants was an alluring contrast. Shao Chengze lifted her by the waist, his voice hoarse. "I’ll carry you." He whispered, "Is Xiao Liqi not sleeping here tonight?"
Cheng Jinlan raised an eyebrow. "You’re happy she’s not here?"
Shao Chengze brushed his lips against her delicate eyelid. "I just don’t want my kidney kicked again. One more hit, and you might not get to use it for a while."
"Shameless! Who’d use you?" she spat.
He chuckled. "If you don’t, no one else will. As the saying goes, waste not."
She headbutted his bruised forehead, wishing to knock him senseless to shut him up.
At the wardrobe door, Cheng Jinlan refused to let him go further.
"I’m sweaty too. I need a shower," he insisted.
"Use the other bathroom," she said.
He whispered, "Didn’t you text me this morning to check your body? Boss Cheng shouldn’t go back on her word."
"I sent no such thing," she denied.
"Knew you’d deny it." He reached for his phone. "I screenshotted it."
Not wanting to see that text again, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips brushing his ear. "Shao Chengze."
Then, "Chengze."
Finally, "A’ze."
Her soft voice and warm breath against his ear made his jaw tense. The phone was forgotten.
Cheng Jinlan succeeded.
So did Shao Chengze.
Under dim light, dark eyes traced every inch of her body. Warm water and deft fingers worked in tandem, steam mingling with sweat as droplets traced their entwined forms before falling away.
He kissed every lingering mark on her, both soothing and intensifying. Under his touch, she bloomed like a midsummer rose.
Exhausted, every pore relaxed, Cheng Jinlan couldn’t even lift her eyelids. She reached for the man drying her hair. "Get the first-aid kit from the bottom drawer in the wardrobe. Tend to your head."
He turned off the dryer, fingers threading through her hair. "Won’t you do it?"
She barely opened her eyes, her gaze watery with faux annoyance. "Do I look like I have the energy?"
He kissed her lips. "Guess my kidney survived your kick and last night’s floor. Not bad."
Her eyes widened slightly. "You really slept under the bed?"
Their daughter’s eyes resembled his, but their spark was all hers. He kissed her lashes. "Your lullaby was lovely. I dozed off. The floor’s not bad—maybe I’ll bring my own bedding next time."
She wrapped herself in a blanket. "Tonight’s floor is yours then."
His hand slipped under the blanket, cupping her softness. "Sounds good. You on top, me below—interesting position."
Her foot traveled up his leg. "One more kick, and your kidney’s done."
In their battles, the one with vulnerabilities always yielded. His vulnerability wasn’t his kidney—it was her.
He fetched the kit to tend to his forehead, not wanting scars to mar his face—the face she liked.
Returning to bed, he found her nearly asleep. A cool metal touched her neck. "What?" she mumbled.
"You never opened that box?"
"What box?"
"The Children’s Day gift."
She opened her eyes—a necklace with a ring. Years ago, on a whim, she’d bought matching rings but disliked wearing them, so she’d hung hers on a necklace. After their breakup, she’d thrown it away. Yet here it was—the same one, with her engraved words.
He’d retrieved it.
"You…" She trailed off, remembering the box returned with their daughter’s gift. She’d tossed it aside, unopened.
He placed his left hand over her collarbone, his ring beside the pendant. "Now you can’t run. I’ve got status."
She buried her face in his chest.
The night was long, perfect for lovers entwined.
Xiao Liqi, having slept early, woke at dawn. After practicing piano at her grandparents’, she styled her doll’s outfits but needed a wig from her mother’s place. Tiptoeing in, she peeked at her sleeping mother before hearing noises in the kitchen.
Eyes wide, she crept closer—and saw her father.
"Daddy’s the kitchen spirit!" she whispered.
He turned, smiling. "Up so early?"
"I slept early! Grandpa says early to bed, early to rise!" She hugged him. "Did you cook yesterday too?"
"Did you like it?"
"Loved it! I ate so much!" She paused. "Daddy, did you sleep here?"
He hesitated. "Yes, but it’s a secret. Can I be your kitchen spirit?"
She pondered. "But kitchen spirits only cook breakfast, not dinner, right?"
Shao Chengze: "…"
"Xiao Liqi?" Her grandmother called.
"Daddy, can Grandma know you’re here?"
Before he could answer, she plopped a blonde wig on his head. "Grandma, the kitchen spirit’s here! Cooking for us!"
Fei Zuhui: "…"
