Song Xinya: "Is there someone else on the other side of the camera?"
Qin Yuhe: "No, it's just me."
Song Xinya: "Then why did you say I was calling someone baby?"
Qin Yuhe: "..."
Me.
Another stretch of silence.
Song Xinya held the little smutty book in her hand and walked toward the bedroom: "You don't like being called baby?"
Qin Yuhe: "It's not about liking or disliking. It's just that a man being called baby feels weird."
Song Xinya: "Does a woman being called baby not feel weird?"
Qin Yuhe: "No."
Song Xinya: "What's the matter, did you call some other woman baby before?"
Qin Yuhe: "...Never."
He had never called her baby, and he had never called any of the women he'd slept with before her baby either.
Even. That thought made her feel better inside.
Song Xinya curled the corners of her lips, her icy expression softening. She smiled sweetly at the camera: "I'm going to take a shower."
Her face was stunningly beautiful. When she wasn't smiling, she looked like an ice queen. Though aesthetics are subjective, her beauty was the kind that would strike anyone at first glance and leave a lasting impression.
Her facial features were soft and full, her skin fair and delicate. When she smiled, there was a cute, youthful quality to her.
So sweet it was as if all the stars in the universe were hidden in her eyes.
Qin Yuhe stared at that sweet, charming face on the screen, momentarily dazed, his gaze blank.
Song Xinya placed The Arrogant Emperor's Gentle Love, The Tender Girl Can't Resist on the bedside table and went to the bathroom to shower.
When she came out, she stood by the desk, blowing her hair dry.
A thin layer of silk pajamas clung to her figure. Her arms were slender and fair. She leaned her right side against the edge of the desk, her gaze naturally lowered, a few strands of loose hair falling on either side of her face. The soft lamplight wrapped around her in a hazy glow, creating a sense of serene timelessness.
"Song Xinya..."
Qin Yuhe's voice came through the camera, low and raspy like sandpaper.
Song Xinya turned off the hair dryer and blinked at the camera: "What's up?"
Qin Yuhe stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, wearing a white shirt and a black suit vest, his trousers perfectly pressed without a single crease. He was tall and impeccably dressed.
He felt a little out of breath and instinctively reached up to loosen his tie, only to find there was nothing around his neck.
That breathless feeling wasn't caused by the tie.
Qin Yuhe ran his tongue over his teeth and asked, "How many days until we see each other?"
Song Xinya: "Nine days."
She remembered exactly.
So did he.
Qin Yuhe: "Nine days. Are you impatient?"
Song Xinya said with her mouth: "Not at all. What's there to be impatient about?"
Qin Yuhe: "Is that so?"
Song Xinya swung her pale arms back and forth at her sides, fidgeting with guilt: "Yeah."
She brushed the stray hair at her temple: "Anyway, don't you have a lot of work to do? Go do your work. I'll lie in bed and read a bit, then go to sleep."
She turned and walked to the bed, pulled back the covers, got in, grabbed the book from the bedside table, opened it, and started "reading."
Qin Yuhe looked at the title on the cover: The Arrogant Emperor's Gentle Love, The Tender Girl Can't Resist.
This book...
He laughed helplessly.
And she said she wasn't impatient—she was already in such a hurry to dive into that smutty book.
Song Xinya actually wasn't reading.
For one thing, it was already late, and for another, she was tired from work. She stared at the book, but the words looked like little ants crawling across the page.
Her hands loosened, and with a thump, the book landed on her face.
"Ah—that hurts—"
She swatted the book aside, rolled over, and fell asleep.
Though she hadn't read any smut before bed, that didn't stop her from having a wet dream.
The next morning, she woke up, opened the wardrobe with practiced ease, grabbed a pair of dry underwear, and rushed to the bathroom to change.
Then she walked back to the bed with the same practiced ease, lifted up the bedsheet, and was ready to take it to wash.
Qin Yuhe's voice came through, laced with amusement: "Mrs. Qin, you're twenty-five years old. Why have you been wetting the bed every night lately?"
Song Xinya's hand holding the sheet trembled: "Who wet the bed? I didn't wet the bed."
Qin Yuhe looked at the spot where she'd been lying: "Then what's that big wet patch?"
The red in Song Xinya's cheeks spread to her fair ears and crept all the way down her neck, a wave of crimson flooding her porcelain-white skin.
"That... that's just sweat."
Qin Yuhe smirked knowingly, asking what he already knew the answer to: "Is it sweat?"
Song Xinya: "It's sweat, it's sweat, it's sweat."
Like a broken record, trying to brainwash whom?
She yanked the sheet out with a swoosh, hugged it to her chest, and stomped off toward the washing machine on the balcony.
As she passed the camera, she heard Qin Yuhe say: "So much liquid. What a waste."
Song Xinya: "..."
Her mouth ran ahead while her brain scrambled to catch up, and she asked: "Then what wouldn't be a waste?"
Qin Yuhe: "Using it on me wouldn't be a waste."
The red on Song Xinya's face deepened another shade.
At least he didn't say it wouldn't be a waste if he drank it.
...
Song Xinya worked during the day and went to tutor Sheng Tianjun at six in the evening.
During a break in the tutoring session, she asked Sheng Tianjun: "Has your dad mentioned any plans to come back to the country recently?"
Sheng Tianjun: "Haven't heard him mention it. Probably not."
Song Xinya's heart sank. If Sheng Changpu didn't come back, how was Qin Yuhe's hand supposed to get treated?
"Teacher Song, you look kind of disappointed that my dad isn't coming back," Sheng Tianjun said, studying her expression.
"You want to see my dad that badly? What, you've got a thing for my dad?"
Song Xinya: "Did you even go through nine years of compulsory education? Your values are that messed up?"
Sheng Tianjun: "A lot of young girls nowadays want to marry an older man. My dad, at the very least, is a man of reputation. Plenty of young women would like him."
Song Xinya: "Not me. I have no interest in old men more than ten years my senior."
A glimmer of hope flashed in Sheng Tianjun's eyes as he looked at her intently and asked: "What about a younger guy who's eight years your junior? Any interest?"
Song Xinya scoffed: "Even less interest. I have no desire to be a mom to some young boy."
Sheng Tianjun: "He's only eight years younger than you. How does that make him your son?"
Song Xinya: "Go buy yourself a mirror and take a good look. Do you even deserve to be my son? If you were my son, I'd strangle you with my own hands."
Sheng Tianjun: "That's way too harsh. You've hurt my feelings."
Song Xinya: "You're hurt, you're hurt. It's not like I'm the one who's hurt."
Sheng Tianjun: "Fine. You heartless woman."
For the next hour, Song Xinya continued the lesson with Sheng Tianjun.
As she drove back, she noticed a black Mercedes-Benz SUV in the rearview mirror.
She drove through three streets, and that black Mercedes-Benz SUV was still following behind her.
Song Xinya deliberately took a detour, drove to Xu's Dessert Shop, and bought a strawberry cake.
After she came out with the cake and got back in her car, she continued driving home.
On the road, she saw that black SUV again in the rearview mirror.
That kind of black SUV was pretty common on the road. Nothing special about it.
But what was abnormal was that all three streets had been following her. She took a detour, and it was still behind her when she looked again.
No route could be that coincidental.
Someone was following her.
Who was following her?
