Sang Ning froze for a moment. "Why are you still here?"
"It's the weekend. I don’t have much to do, so I’m resting at home." He closed the magazine and set it on the sofa.
At home?
Whose home?
Sang Ning gave him a pointed reminder. "Mr. He, this is my home."
"I know," he said, standing up and walking over to her. "My place is still being renovated, so I’ll be staying here for a few days."
Sang Ning: ?
"You own so many properties!"
"This one is the most convenient. Work has been busy lately, and my other places are too far. I figured staying here would be more practical." His expression didn’t waver in the slightest.
Sang Ning frowned. How could someone be this shameless?
He reached out, took her hand, and mimicked her mannerisms—giving it a slightly stiff shake.
She blinked, stunned.
His face remained serious as he shook her hand again, his tone stiff. "Well?"
"..."
She lowered her gaze to their joined hands, her lashes fluttering.
Was he… pouting at her?
When she didn’t answer immediately, he assumed she’d spaced out again. Displeased, he tightened his grip and pulled her into his arms, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. "Well?"
Sang Ning looked up, falling into the depths of his stubborn, dark gaze.
One arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. His eyes, usually sharp, softened with a hidden tenderness, his voice—normally cold—dripping with honeyed warmth. "Yangyang."
Her breath hitched, as if she’d suddenly been swallowed by the gentleness in his gaze.
Her heart skipped a beat. After a delayed two seconds, she finally mumbled, "Fine… I guess."
The corner of his lips lifted, his brow quirking. "Then it’s settled."
She really did fall for this act.
After spending so much time together, he’d finally figured out her preferences. Aside from neckties, she had a soft spot for tender men.
Every time in bed, when he kissed her with slow, aching sweetness, she always responded. And if she was too tired to continue, a few coaxing words in that same gentle tone would ease her resistance.
His sudden shift back to normal snapped Sang Ning out of her daze.
In the blink of an eye, that tender man seemed to vanish.
She stared blankly, half-convinced she’d imagined it.
Then he started kissing her cheek, his tone bordering on petulant. "Why are you back so late?"
Sang Ning pushed at his chest with a frown. "I came back right after dinner. How is that late?"
But he didn’t budge. He had her locked in place, and when her shoving proved useless, he took it as an invitation to trail kisses down her neck.
Sang Ning: "..."
She was suddenly regretting letting him stay.
"He Siyu! Are you done yet?!" she snapped, at her limit.
He lifted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with something almost innocent. "I didn’t eat dinner."
She faltered.
He held her gaze. "I was waiting for you."
Her chest tightened inexplicably. "...I never said I’d be back."
"Mn. It’s fine if you’ve already eaten," he said casually.
But for some reason, the way he said it made Sang Ning’s heart twinge.
She pressed her lips together. "Should we order something, then?"
Noticing the faint trace of guilt in her eyes, his lips curved. "Sure."
Then he gave her hand a light squeeze. "Want to take a bath? I’ll draw the water for you."
Sang Ning shot him a strange look. His sudden attentiveness was too much—it felt unnatural.
"I can handle it," she said cautiously.
But he was already heading toward the bathroom. "Let me help."
Sang Ning stood there, dumbfounded. Since when was this pampered young master more diligent than Aunt Chen?
Her phone buzzed. She pulled it from her bag and checked the screen.
A message from Ji Yan:
[The video’s been sent anonymously.]
Sang Ning smiled, typing back: [Cat saying thanks.jpg]
The reply came instantly: [Keep me updated! I’m not missing this drama!]
[Don’t worry.]
Mentally running through her plans, she set her phone aside.
She shrugged off her coat, revealing a knit sweater and a beige skirt underneath. Grabbing a claw clip, she twisted her long hair up haphazardly before padding toward the bathroom in her slippers.
"Is the water ready?"
She pushed the door open to a steam-filled room. He Siyu sat by the tub, testing the water. His hair was slightly damp, strands clinging to his forehead like a docile, oversized puppy.
His sleeves were rolled up halfway, exposing toned forearms as he swirled a hand through the water before shaking it off.
"Done."
Sang Ning nodded. "I’ll take my bath now."
She stared at him, waiting for him to leave.
Instead, He Siyu stood and walked over. Just as she moved to let him pass, his hands gripped the hem of his loungewear and pulled it over his head.
The fabric came off, revealing a sculpted torso.
He tossed the shirt aside, muscles flexing with the motion, an overwhelming aura of dominance flooding the space.
Leaning down, he murmured, "Let me help you wash."
Sang Ning’s gaze lingered on his abs for two full seconds before she blurted, "No thanks!"
Since when did he ever wash her properly?!
He closed the distance, caging her against the counter, his voice a low hum. "Consider it rent."