◎With a sharp smack◎
The drizzle persisted, undeterred by the appearance of the sun, only growing heavier. By the time they descended the mountain, both of their clothes were soaked through—especially Jian Youyou’s. Her already somewhat risqué outfit clung tightly to her body when wet, making it even more… indescribable.
Yu Hekun walked behind her, his gaze involuntarily flickering toward her figure. It wasn’t entirely his fault—there was no one else on the entire path, and Jian Youyou’s garishly colorful outfit left him with nowhere else to look.
True to her word, Jian Youyou wasn’t the least bit fazed by the physical exertion. Despite being drenched by the rain, she found the descent refreshing and even pleasant. Her long legs tensed with each downward step, the taut muscle lines undeniably eye-catching. The soaked miniskirt slapped rhythmically against her pert curves behind her, and Yu Hekun, trailing behind, felt his ears grow increasingly hot. To him, Jian Youyou was nothing short of an assault on both his vision and hearing!
Unable to take it any longer, he yanked off his own thoroughly drenched jacket, quickened his pace, and abruptly looped his arms around her from behind, attempting to tie the jacket around her waist.
But he hadn’t given any warning. The moment Jian Youyou felt someone grab her waist, her instincts kicked in—she jerked her elbow back with full force.
"Ah!" Yu Hekun yelped, clutching his head as he crumpled to the ground. Her elbow strike landed squarely on the side of his face, sending stars exploding across one eye. Dizzy and disoriented, he collapsed onto the muddy path, groaning in pain.
Jian Youyou had learned this self-defense move from a dance instructor who taught little kids. She’d practiced it for fun, never expecting it to actually work—let alone that her first real use of it would be on poor Yu Hekun.
The rain had turned the ground into a filthy mess. The moment Yu Hekun landed, he sprang back up as if stabbed in the rear, crouching while clutching his head and snarling at her, "Are you insane?!"
Jian Youyou wiped the rainwater from her face and hurried over, blinking in surprise before crouching beside him to help him up.
"Director Yu, oh no, I’m so sorry! That was just a reflex," she said earnestly, supporting him as he swayed unsteadily. "It’s an anti-pervert move—I didn’t mean to hit you! Really, Director Yu, you’re being too formal. If you wanted to hug me, you didn’t have to do it yourself—just say the word, and I’d come running!"
Yu Hekun straightened up, still unsteady. The long run had already drained him—his stubborn refusal to admit defeat had left him exhausted—and now this blow to the head had him seeing double. A red mark spread from his cheek to the corner of his eye, and when he glared sideways at her, Jian Youyou flinched.
Oh no, he’s so fragile! Please don’t tell me his eye’s going to bruise!
She quickly leaned in, gently cupping his face. "Director Yu, let go, don’t hold it—let me see…"
They were on a slope, and Yu Hekun, already tall, stood higher up. To examine his face, Jian Youyou had to tilt her head back, forcing him to hunch over. His muscles ached from the strain, so he simply draped an arm over her shoulder, letting her bear some of his weight. It wasn’t like there was anyone else around to see—he might as well drop the pretense.
Jian Youyou didn’t budge an inch.
This woman’s a freak of nature, Yu Hekun cursed inwardly. She’s not even human—where does she get this kind of strength right after climbing a mountain?! Shouldn’t she be weak and pale, begging to be carried by now?!
In his mind, women were supposed to be delicate—slender wrists and ankles that looked like they’d snap at the slightest pressure. Influenced by Huo Jiaoyue, the only women who ever caught his eye were that type: fragile, refined, effortlessly stirring a man’s protective instincts.
This was the first time he’d really looked at Jian Youyou—really looked. He’d kept her around for her face—her figure had never mattered to him. But now, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
In normal clothes, she still looked slender. But in this outfit—which, to Yu Hekun, might as well have been nothing—she was like a lurid poster bursting into a gallery of subdued ink paintings.
Blatant. Provocative. The kind of thing that instantly ignited a man’s baser urges.
Especially when she stood on tiptoe—the curve of her thigh alone was enough to make his neck tense.
"Director Yu, what are you looking at?" Jian Youyou tilted his chin, following his gaze down to her legs. She grinned. "I wore this little skirt just for you. Do you like it?"
She even gave the rain-soaked, heavy fabric a playful shake.
Yu Hekun recoiled as if scalded, swatting her hand away with a scoff. "Who said I was looking at you? I was watching the ants on the ground!"
Regaining some composure, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, using nonchalance to mask his fluster.
"You call that wearing clothes?" he muttered, speeding up his steps to walk ahead. The jacket on the ground? Forget it.
Jian Youyou was used to his attitude—in the original story, he’d been far worse. She easily caught up, scooping up the discarded jacket as she trotted after him. "Director Yu? Your jacket."
He didn’t turn. She circled to his side, holding it out again. "Director Yu, your jacket."
Yu Hekun kept his eyes forward, brows furrowed as rainwater threatened to drip into his eyes. His sharp profile looked impressively aloof, but to Jian Youyou, he resembled a stubborn blade of dogtail grass defiantly standing in the downpour—especially since he wasn’t walking straight. The slight tremble in his legs on the steep slope didn’t escape her notice.
So this was the "problem" he’d mentioned. Yeah, no kidding—he’s ridiculously out of shape.
Unaware of her thoughts, Yu Hekun was busy pondering what exactly had happened these past two days to turn the docile ornament he’d kept around into this… thing. Had he been too lenient with her?!
Jian Youyou chose that moment to sidle in front of him again, walking backward as she thrust the jacket toward him. "Director Yu, your jacket."
"Throw it away!" Yu Hekun snapped, stopping dead in his tracks. "I don’t want it!"
Jian Youyou couldn’t comprehend the severity of a germaphobe who would throw away clothes just for getting dirty, nor could she wrap her head around the idea of reckless extravagance. Having grown up as a child who would pick the biggest ice cream stick when buying one on her way to school, she curiously inspected Yu Hekun’s jacket, finding no visible damage. Puzzled, she called after him, "Why throw it away? There’s nothing wrong with it..."
Yu Hekun didn’t even glance back. As the path smoothed out, he broke into a jog toward the villa. The rain had lightened to a drizzle by then, and Jian Youyou, seeing him run, hurried after him. But the jacket was cumbersome, so as she ran, she slipped it on over herself.
Yu Hekun’s pace was labored, making it easy for Jian Youyou to catch up. When he turned his head and saw her wearing his jacket, his steps faltered, nearly sending him face-first into the ground.
He never bothered to control his temper. When your influence ran deep enough, there was no need for diplomacy in business or any other setting. The Yu family’s background, their sprawling enterprises, and their unrivaled dominance in Zhouning City had forged Yu Hekun into someone volatile and unrestrained.
Without a care for his disheveled appearance—looking worse than the jacket he’d discarded—he barked at Jian Youyou, "Why are you wearing my clothes? Take it off!"
Jian Youyou wiped her face, hesitating as she studied his dark expression. She had no idea what bizarre fit had seized him this time, and for a moment, she was tempted to slap him, just as Ms. Shuiyue often did to her.
But she held back. Remembering the diamonds on her nightstand and the hefty breakup payment awaiting her after the story’s end, she simply stood there in the rain, clutching his jacket, and said in a placating tone, "Don’t be angry, Boss Yu. I’ll give it back when we get inside."
"I said throw it away! Are you deaf?!" Yu Hekun stopped abruptly and grabbed at the jacket, trying to yank it off her.
A memory flashed through his mind—Huo Jiaoyue once draped in his brother’s coat, rejecting his own, saying, "A woman should only wear her man’s clothes."
His grip tightened, jerking Jian Youyou off-balance as the zipper tore open. Her brows furrowed. Yu Hekun’s eye, still red from her earlier elbow strike, looked frightening, but the moment he pulled one of her arms free from the jacket, she didn’t hesitate—she swung her palm straight at the same side of his face.
The slap landed with a sharp, crisp sound.
Yu Hekun froze, his grip on her other sleeve slackening as his breath came unevenly. His eyes were a storm of chaotic emotions. Jian Youyou watched his face, now turned aside from the force of her strike.
After a beat, she said, "You hurt me."
When Yu Hekun turned back, she braced herself for another outburst and quickly stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him.
She held his neck tightly—a defensive move, really, since the neck was a vulnerable spot. Jian Youyou knew a thing or two about close-quarters combat, like covering ears to block attacks or striking the throat.
Their body heat seeped through the cold, damp fabric between them. "Why are you always so angry?" she asked. "I don’t even know why."
This job was tougher than she’d thought. Money really didn’t come easy.
She sighed inwardly, but when Yu Hekun just stood there, head bowed, showing no sign of lashing out, she leaned closer and asked with genuine sincerity, "What can I do to make you happy?"
What can I do to make you happy?
The words, laced with helplessness, mingled with the fine drizzle and pressed against Yu Hekun’s eardrums. His heart gave an uncontrollable, violent throb.
Once upon a time, he, too, had desperately wanted to do anything—everything—just to bring a little happiness to someone else.
Only now did he realize how it felt to hear those words directed at himself.
