When Lu Kuanghai returned home, only Bai Shuqin was left in the spacious living room.
"Where's Tingzhou?" he asked.
Father Lu, nearly fifty, was full of energy. Wearing an administrative jacket, he looked tall and imposing.
Bai Shuqin rested her forehead on her hand, sulking in silence.
The entire hall was dead silent.
A flicker of displeasure crossed his face. Just then, the butler leaned in and quietly recounted what had happened.
With each word, his expression darkened.
"You know how deep the Shen Family's waters run and how complicated their relationships are."
"Why would you think of sending Koukou to a place like that?"
Lu Kuanghai looked at his wife, his brows deeply furrowed, his tone reproachful. "Koukou is innocent-minded. She has no cunning, no schemes. Isn't that like sending a lamb into the tiger's den?"
"Yes, yes, I didn't think it through. You father and son are of one mind, leaving me to play the villain!"
Bai Shuqin had acted on impulse. Yesterday during a mahjong game, she'd been opposite Shen Xiushi's mother, Mrs. Shen. Caught up in the excitement, they'd chatted aimlessly, somehow landing on the topic of marriage.
The Shen Family's ancestors were notorious philanderers—one took six wives. The branches were many, the household deep. The younger generation schemed against each other, while the elders fought tooth and nail over assets. Lu Siyu, being in the entertainment industry, was naturally out of the question. Besides, the other party had brought up Cheng Buxi, and they'd grown more and more engaged in conversation.
Now Bai Shuqin had come to her senses. The Shen Family was a bottomless pit. Whoever entered would lose a layer of skin. Even marrying Shen Xiushi wouldn't ensure an easy life.
Lu Kuanghai had watched Cheng Buxi grow up. His love for her was no less than his wife's. He consoled, "Since the Shen Family isn't reliable, there are other good families."
He dusted his sleeves and decisively lowered his posture. "Koukou is the Second Miss of the Lu family. She won't suffer the slightest grievance." As the head of the household, these words carried the weight of gold.
With this assurance, Bai Shuqin's heart settled considerably.
Though she didn't say it, she'd already begun calculating, determined to find Cheng Buxi a good husband.
---
"President Lu..."
The sound of high heels on the wooden floor was sharp and grating.
Cheng Buxi was on high alert toward the woman before her. If looks could kill, the woman would be full of holes. But even with just this scrutiny, she couldn't guess her identity at once.
A mistress? Assistant? A secretary wouldn't dress like this, and besides, Cheng Buxi had met his secretary before—he was a man.
Lu Tingzhou saw the newcomer and frowned briefly, seemingly surprised, but he had no time for other concerns. He instructed her, "Take the Second Miss to change clothes. She got caught in the rain."
"No," Cheng Buxi blurted out.
The woman's movements froze.
Hearing the tears in her voice, Lu Tingzhou frowned and looked at her. Her eyes were misty, looking especially pitiful in the gloomy weather. She really had been wronged just now.
He couldn't stand seeing her cry. Ever since she was little, whenever she cried, even the hardest heart would shatter. Almost immediately, his tone softened. "What are you crying about?"
Cheng Buxi stubbornly held back her tears, gritting her teeth to deny it. "I'm not crying."
Lu Tingzhou tightened his jaw, saying nothing. He just pinched her chin, tilting it up, examined her briefly, then let go. He signaled the woman to draw a bath and led Cheng Buxi into the room.
Cheng Buxi tried to break free, but his grip was ironclad, like golden threads winding into chains, a fortress. Unable to escape, she could only submit to his control, nursing her grievances.
This room had once been a study left unused. Lu Tingzhou had temporarily turned it into an office.
He had just returned from the Special Administrative Region, so everything was still in disarray. Many things hadn't been prepared yet, leaving the room empty.
In stark contrast to the villa's overall decor, this room was Chinese vintage style. The first thing that caught the eye was the stately, grand rosewood desk set, with fine wood grain and a warm, jade-like luster. Paired with a beige cashmere rug, it looked quite luxurious.
In the center was a set of dark brown leather sofas, scattered with a few palm-sized Sanrio plush toys. In the corner stood an antique zither, its surface covered with a thick layer of blue silk cloth, untouched.
One whole wall was lined with shelves filled with all kinds of books, including many out-of-print rare editions.
This had once been Cheng Buxi's secret base. When she was little, she often stayed here, no one disturbing her. Whenever Lu Tingzhou was away, she'd wait for him inside. As she grew older, she gradually stopped coming.
Entering again after so long felt surreal.
Lu Tingzhou brought her in and left on his own, disappearing somewhere. Cheng Buxi sat alone on the sofa, her mood sinking to the depths.
After a moment, the woman returned, speaking with great warmth, "Miss Cheng, the bath is ready."
Cheng Buxi had just finished crying. She turned away, using a stiff, resistant tone, "You're my brother's woman."
Wan Yi hadn't expected her to say that. Her delicate face stiffened. "Miss Cheng, you're mistaken. I—"
"I don't want you. Get out." Cheng Buxi's aversion was written plainly on her face.
At the same time, Lu Tingzhou appeared behind her, having removed his coat and holding a towel. White shirt, upright posture, the room's bright light casting a half-genuine, half-illusionary softness on his face, obscure and unfathomable.
So he'd left to fetch her a dry towel.
"President Lu..." Rejected, Wan Yi awkwardly rose.
The atmosphere was tense.
"You go out first," Lu Tingzhou ordered after a brief deliberation.
Wan Yi didn't dare delay, immediately retreating.
Soon, Cheng Buxi felt the sofa dip beside her. She rubbed her tears fiercely, knowing who it was, and refused to look at him out of spite.