Ahhh! He was there!!
Song Xinya’s beautiful eyes sparkled, curving into two soft arcs as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear with her fingers.
“You’re still awake, huh.”
Her clear, bright pupils shimmered as she stared straight into the camera lens.
A tiny black, round ball, nothing much to look at, but she kept her gaze fixed on it anyway.
As if she could look through that eye and see him on the other side.
But human eyes didn’t have X-ray vision, so she saw nothing.
Qin Yuhe’s impression was the exact opposite—he could see her face perfectly, every detail. Her long lashes fluttered gently, and he felt as though a breeze was brushing against his own face.
“I’ve been in the office working all day,” he volunteered.
He offered up the time, place, and activity, the subtext being: And you? What did you do today?
Song Xinya caught the hint that he expected her to reciprocate. “I worked during the day. After work, I went out for barbecue with my colleagues.”
“Since I hadn’t been to the office in a while, I treated them to a barbecue to bond a bit.”
Qin Yuhe had been sitting up straight, shoulders broad and back firm. At her words, he leaned back, pressing into the chair, his right hand resting on the armrest, a sharp-tipped pen held between his fingers.
“You like barbecue?”
Song Xinya: “Yeah, I do.”
Qin Yuhe: “So when I was home, why didn’t you ever take me to have some?”
What Song Xinya liked was pretty standard for most girls—bubble tea, spicy hot pot, barbecue, snail noodles, durian.
What Qin Yuhe liked was Cantonese dim sum, Alba white truffles, bluefin tuna, Alaskan king crab, Canadian spot prawns.
It wasn’t that he deliberately sought out these top-tier luxuries—it was simply what he’d grown up eating.
As Ma Boyong once said in The Southern Barbarian Gourmet: The tastes you develop as a child are hard to shake, no matter where you go or how old you get.
Deep down, Song Xinya felt that eating barbecue in a smoky, noisy joint didn’t suit Qin Yuhe. She couldn’t imagine him liking something like that.
That’s why, to this day, she’d never had barbecue with him.
In the moment she hesitated, she heard Qin Yuhe say, “Remember last time, when you grilled barbecue in the yard for Song Tingye, Qin Yuyan, and the other two?”
Song Xinya: “I remember.”
That was the day Song Xuanli had brought Li Cuirou and Zhang Yingying to sign the equity transfer agreement for Yating Education Technology Co., Ltd., and Qin Yuhe had helped her get the Song family’s household register.
Qin Yuhe: “That day, you made barbecue for Song Tingye and the others, but you didn’t let me have any.”
Song Xinya: “……”
She explained, “You were busy with work that day, so I didn’t want to disturb you in the study. Plus, I thought you didn’t like barbecue, so I didn’t call you.”
Qin Yuhe: “I do like it.”
Song Xinya wanted to say, If you like it, how come I never see you eat it? But that sounded like she was picking a fight, so she held back.
She blinked at the camera. “Next time we meet, I’ll take you out for barbecue, okay?”
Qin Yuhe’s lips curled up. “Okay.”
Hearing the warmth in his voice, Song Xinya’s own lips lifted. “Then I’ll go take a shower first.”
Qin Yuhe: “I’ll keep working.”
Before she left, Song Xinya reached out and tapped the camera lens with her palm.
The image on Qin Yuhe’s phone rippled like water, making his eyes go dizzy.
Song Xinya walked off with a sly smile.
When she came out of the shower, her hair was half-dry, long damp strands cascading over her pale shoulders, her lips full and bright, a hint of lingering mist in her eyes.
She glanced at the camera, then walked over, leaning forward so the neckline of her slip dress hovered close to the lens.
“Hello, hello, calling Qin Yuhe.”
A low, husky laugh reached her ears, followed by his reply.
“Hello, hello, Song Xinya received.”
Ah, so he was still there.
Song Xinya asked, “You’ve been watching me this whole time?”
Qin Yuhe: “Not exactly. You closed the door when you showered, so I couldn’t see anything.”
He was deliberately messing with her—he knew full well that wasn’t what she meant.
Song Xinya: “Did you keep the surveillance app running on your phone all this time?”
Qin Yuhe: “Yes.”
Song Xinya straightened up, a flash of pale skin moving swiftly across the screen.
She dragged a chair over, sat down in front of the camera, and started chatting with Qin Yuhe.
“Does leaving the surveillance app running on your phone make you miss messages—does it mess with your work?”
Qin Yuhe: “No. I have two phones.”
Song Xinya: “I didn’t know you had two phones.”
Qin Yuhe: “Bought a new one after coming to the Magic City. One’s for work, and the other’s for…”
He looked at her soft, fair face on the screen.
“…watching you.”
Song Xinya suddenly felt her cheeks grow warm. Her eyes curved into crescents, their surface shimmering.
She rested her arms on the desk and pillowed her head on them, gazing at the camera with a gentle, charming look.
“Do you still have a lot of work to handle?”
Qin Yuhe glanced at the tall stack of files on his desk. “Not much,” he replied.
If he said yes, her next line would be: Then go work, I’ll let you be.
Song Xinya: “Guess we can chat a little longer, then.”
Qin Yuhe: “Sure.”
She kept talking, going from what she ate for lunch and what she drank, to which skewers were best at the barbecue place, to a stray puppy she met on her drive home—just tiny, everyday things. He didn’t show any impatience; he listened intently, humming now and then to let her know he was still there.
Song Xinya glanced at the clock on the wall and realized she’d been rambling for a whole hour.
“Time flies so fast.”
“Are you falling asleep listening to me?”
Qin Yuhe: “No. You’ve been very interesting.”
Song Xinya gave an embarrassed little laugh. Plain, everyday chatter—how was that interesting?
“I’ve got work tomorrow. Time for bed.”
She waved at the camera. “88.”
Qin Yuhe waved back. “88.”
In the dead of night, the bedroom filled with her soft, steady breathing.
Qin Yuhe sat upright, his slender fingers gripping a black pen as he marked up documents.
Bright light fell on his hand, making his pale, smooth skin gleam.
The silken texture stretched from the back of his hand inward, only to vanish in his palm—a perfect beauty ending abruptly.
His palm was a mess of crisscrossing scars.
The burn wounds hadn’t fully healed yet. Holding a pen for long stretches sent stabbing, tight sensations through his palm, forcing him to set the pen down every so often and flex his hand.
As he rotated his wrist, a notification sound came from the surveillance video.
The phone on his nightstand lit up.
[Guigui, I’ve reached the doorstep.]
Tiantianquan was checking in with Song Xinya to say she was home.
Right then, Tiantianquan stood at the entrance of her apartment building, across from Chen Siyan.
His tall, broad frame cast a shadow over her, engulfing her slender figure in a way that felt almost oppressive.
Tiantianquan felt like she was about to be swallowed whole.
She stumbled back three quick steps.
Chen Siyan walked forward, closing in on her, step by step.
His pitch-black shadow once again enveloped her completely.
Tiantianquan kept retreating until her heel hit a curb, sending her tumbling backward into the greenery.
“Ah—! Help!”
Chen Siyan hooked his arm around her slender waist and pulled her into his embrace.
The world spun before her eyes as he pressed her against the wall.
His firm, powerful body pressed tightly against her.
Tiantianquan blushed to the tips of her ears.
Getting hard at the drop of a hat—was he a Teddy bear dog reincarnated?
Chen Siyan breathed hot air against her ear, coaxing her as he said, “Brother’s got extreme endurance, like a Nanfu battery. Let’s go to your place, and I’ll let you experience an amazing lasting power…”
