His thoughts snapped back.
Cen Yuan looked at the wolf cub before him, eyeing him with hostility.
He had long known that Han Zheng’s half-brother, Lin Yizhou, was never a pushover. That meek, obedient demeanor was just a mask to fool outsiders.
Sure enough, the dogs that don’t bark are the most vicious—the ones that bite never bare their teeth.
“What’s it to you if I’m looking at rings with Feile? It’s not like I’m doing it with your mother, Lin Mei?” Cen Yuan’s words were venomous from the get-go.
Lin Yizhou froze.
His melancholic eyes slightly widened.
Taking advantage of his daze, Jiang Liuyue quickly bent down, slipped into the car, and slammed the door shut with a bang.
Once seated, she wasted no time ordering Cen Yuan bluntly.
“Driver Cen, step on it!”
“Seriously! You’re treating me like a ride-share driver now?”
Cen Yuan complained with his words, but his foot on the accelerator didn’t hesitate.
With one hard press, the blue sports car shot off like an arrow from a bow.
The car fell quiet.
Streetlights flickered in alternating patterns through the windows, casting shifting shadows across Jiang Liuyue’s face.
She turned, her gaze landing on Cen Yuan’s profile.
Suspiciously, she asked, “Did Song Hanzheng really send you to pick me up?”
“Yeah, why don’t you believe me?”
“I don’t trust your character,” she said bluntly.
Cen Yuan curled the corner of his mouth, his expression practically saying, “Believe it or not.”
His peach blossom eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead as he spoke in a lazy, nonchalant tone.
“Relax. I’m just jealous of Song Hanzheng; I don’t have a grudge against him. It’s not like I’d go out of my way to kill him.”
He then jutted his chin toward the rearview mirror, an angle that perfectly caught the shrinking figure in the reflection.
“Now his little brother, on the other hand—looks like a good kid, but inside, that guy’s heart is pitch-black.”
“Fighting for the family fortune, trying to steal his woman—don’t be surprised if he ends up trying to take Han Zheng out.”
He let out a light sigh, wearing an air of detached superiority, as if it were none of his business.
There was even a hint of amusement in his tone, like he was just observing a show.
Jiang Liuyue shot him a glare, too annoyed to respond, and pulled out her phone to make a call.
“Don’t bother. It won’t go through,” Cen Yuan said.
“Why not?”
“He’s on a plane.”
“Huh? What?” Her fingers paused over the screen as she looked up at him, brows knitting together in disbelief.
Cen Yuan repeated himself and clicked his tongue in a sigh.
“Han Zheng really cares about you.”
“You don’t know how driven he used to be about work. The minute he heard that snake of a little brother was hovering around you, he handed off his project to his team and booked the earliest flight back.”
Jiang Liuyue was taken aback. She hadn’t considered that.
Song Hanzheng himself had said he didn’t love her yet, right? The system only showed 50% affection—barely passing.
But could 50% affection really drive someone to do something like this?
Flying back overnight from out of town, abandoning a project entirely.
Seeing her silent and thoughtful, Cen Yuan slipped back into his smug grin, his peach blossom eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Moved, are you? Seriously, I’ve known him since we were kids, and I’ve never seen him care about anyone this much.”
“‘Xinle’ counts as one,” he paused, his tone suddenly turning earnest, “and so do you.”
Jiang Liuyue looked at Cen Yuan in surprise, her almond eyes wide with shock.
Hadn’t he been at odds with Song Hanzheng since childhood?
Why was he speaking up for him?
Cen Yuan seemed to read the question in her eyes. He let out a light snort.
“Yeah, yeah, I hate him. I’m jealous of him. But I can’t deny his strengths, his talents—and the fact that he’s a total poser!”
Suddenly, his tone shifted, and he grinned wickedly at her in the rearview mirror.
“Song Hanzheng’s so stiff. What good is being with him? Even if he likes you, he’ll insist out loud that he doesn’t.”
Jiang Liuyue didn’t argue right away. Instead, she thought for a moment and pressed further: “Why?”
Cen Yuan let out a derisive laugh, tapping his fingers lightly on the steering wheel.
“Do you even need to ask?”
“Mr. Stiff-and-Perfect! Too embarrassed, thinks it’s beneath him.”
“What’s so embarrassing about it?”
“Exactly. That’s why his logic doesn’t work like a normal person’s. Why not just get with me instead? I’m handsome, rich, and protective. If anyone messes with you, I’ll take them out!”
Cen Yuan seized the chance to pitch himself again, his tone light and his eyes crinkling.
Jiang Liuyue responded with a contemptuous smirk, her lips twisting into a sarcastic arc.
“Right, you’re so protective. The first time we met, you almost killed me for Li Feile.”
Cen Yuan rubbed his nose, fingers brushing across the tip in embarrassment.
His mouth pressed into a thin line as he awkwardly fell silent.
But Jiang Liuyue wasn’t about to let him off. She leaned back in her seat.
And dropped the fatal question.
“You stopped Li Feile both times she tried to slap me.”
“That’s too much of a coincidence. Don’t tell me you two were in on it together—that Li Feile had you get close to me on purpose?”
A brief silence filled the car.
Jiang Liuyue expected Cen Yuan to make up all sorts of excuses.
But to her surprise, he lifted his head and met her gaze in the rearview mirror. The usual mischief and cynicism were gone from his peach blossom eyes.
In their place was a rare seriousness, even a sense of relief, as if a weight had been lifted.
“Yes.”
Jiang Liuyue fell silent, her lips parting slightly before closing again.
Wait—what was up with Cen Yuan today? Had he been possessed?
Shouldn’t he have laughed it off and said, “You’re overthinking it,” then changed the subject?
Was this Cen Yuan, so earnestly admitting his mistakes, even the same person she knew?
Cen Yuan pressed on, his tone calm.
“The first time, Li Feile invited you to that coffee shop. She had drugged your cup. Once you passed out, she wanted me to take photos with you—compromising ones—and send them to Song Hanzheng, so he’d break up with you.”
Because Song Hanzheng had a thing about purity—he couldn’t stand betrayal.
Cen Yuan didn’t say it outright, but Jiang Liuyue understood.
Wait—
The more Jiang Liuyue looked at Cen Yuan, the weirder she found him.
“Did you take the wrong meds?”
“Are you sure you haven’t been possessed? Why are you telling me all this? Are you saying you’re done helping Li Feile?”
Cen Yuan let out a soft sigh, weary in a way that was hard to put into words.
He spoke quietly, as if talking to himself or finally letting down a mask to someone he could trust.
“I found out later.”
“When Han Zheng called me to pick you up, I happened to mention the ring, and that’s how I knew he’d given it to you for your wrap party. That’s what made Feile lose her mind and drag me to look at rings first thing in the morning.”
He paused, his fingers unconsciously rubbing against the steering wheel a couple of times.
“You were right earlier. I’ve been acting like a love-struck fool! I thought I was watching a play, but who knows—in someone else’s eyes, I might have been the one on stage.”
“It stings.”
He scoffed lightly. This time, there was a bit more sincerity in his words.
Jiang Liuyue fixed her gaze on him, studying him with a scrutinizing look. Then she asked, “Can you let it go?”
Cen Yuan’s hand faltered on the steering wheel for a moment before returning to its normal grip.
He turned his head and cast a glance at Jiang Liuyue.
In those peach-blossom eyes, the alternating streetlights reflected a flickering dance, bright then dim. Then, in a tone that was utterly reckless, he said:
“You don’t actually think I’m that obsessed with Li Feile, do you? I was just bored—killing time until I found someone who really caught my interest.”
He paused, his gaze narrowing.
He stared at Jiang Liuyue directly, with an intensity that was unmistakable—blazing, unguarded, even carrying a hint of possession.
“Now, I’ve found the one I want.”
