"Not happy?" Lu Tingzhou wasn't stupid; he knew the root of her tantrum.
But to take it this far—she was being difficult, provoking him with Shen Xiushi.
Admittedly, he bore some responsibility.
He placed the dry towel on his palm but didn't relax his grip. His gaze lingered on her for a few seconds before shifting away. His voice, calm and flat, came through his throat, "Why take it out on her."
Hearing him defend that woman, Cheng Buxi's suspicions deepened. "You feel sorry for her." She was bristling all over, like she had sharp spines, insisting they had an impure relationship.
Lu Tingzhou raised an eyebrow. "What nonsense are you up to now?"
"What do you call me?"
Cheng Buxi pursed her lips, silent, and rubbed her eyes vigorously.
No matter how upset she was, she had been raised by him, ingrained with obedience. She dared not defy him.
Though resentment choked her, she reluctantly called out, "Brother Lu."
The dry, stiff 'brother' fell in his ears, in his heart—it was all wrong, displeasing.
"Brother Lu?" Lu Tingzhou repeated the title, his tone neither yin nor yang.
He distinctly remembered her calling Shen Xiushi 'Brother' just now, so natural, almost instinctive. Why was it so hard when it came to him?
"When you need something, I'm 'Brother.' When you don't, I'm nothing. Calling me by full name is too distant."
His deep, dark eyes seemed covered in a thin layer of frost, carrying a faint jealousy even he didn't understand. "Xiaoxi, do you have a problem with me?"
---
A problem.
Cheng Buxi wouldn't dare have a 'problem' with him even if she were bold as a lion. But too much had happened today. The tortoise shell she'd always curled into could no longer withstand the successive shocks—it was cracking, breaking apart.
Soon, Assistant Xin Ji also rushed over from the company. As soon as he entered, he started reporting work without pause.
He adjusted the silver-wire-rimmed glasses on his nose, barely catching his breath before noticing Wan Yi at the door. His face changed drastically. Seeming surprised that Sun Zhiye had arranged for her to come, he quickly signaled her to go out into the corridor.
A flicker of desolation passed through Wan Yi's eyes, but she obeyed.
Cheng Buxi was now curled up in the corner of the leather sofa, her eyes red from crying, like two red date pits.
Xin Ji was Lu Tingzhou's chief assistant, handling all his daily affairs. His gaze swept over her, and seeing her cry, cold sweat broke out on his forehead.
This was their boss's precious treasure. Everyone knew that half a month before this young lady's birthday, a board meeting would be convened, and the agenda was—what birthday gift to give.
AMH Group's business was vast, penetrating almost every industry. Countless eyes were watching. The most ridiculous thing was that when this matter was raised, the group of sharp, capable old directors were actually willing to attend and offer advice. What nonsense.
He lamented they were a bunch of sycophants. Thankfully, birthdays only came once a year, or else it would spread like wildfire in the industry. The cold, aloof Chairman Lu was privately a sis-con!
Xin Ji was wiping his sweat, wondering why she was crying all of a sudden. He had a bellyful of words but dared not speak. Then he heard the little miss's shocking declaration: "Big Brother has a hidden beauty in his golden house. What right do I have to have an opinion? I just hope Big Brother won't pick a fight with Auntie for no reason next time. I'm not you—my courage is as small as moss, and it can break!"
Her words fell, and the room plunged into a pin-drop silence.
Xin Ji felt as if he'd taken a cold shower from afar. He wished traffic had been heavy and he could have arrived ten minutes later—no, just five would do.
But Lu Tingzhou's expression changed, deeper and more heated.
How long had it been since she'd thrown a tantrum like this, scheming and willful? Lu Tingzhou remembered that ever since she started high school, it was as if she'd shrunk into some indescribable shell, becoming docile and obedient, showing no edge. The sharp-tongued younger sister seemed to exist only in memory. But just now, it seemed the real her had returned.
Lu Tingzhou accepted all her dark sides—the good, the bad, the gentle, the prickly. The only thing he didn't want was for her to live her life wearing a mask.
But ever since that New Year's Eve incident, she had changed. Whenever she saw him, it was like encountering a flood or beast, desperate to fly away and sever ties completely.
In other words, Lu Tingzhou liked her unguarded, arrogant, and spoiled demeanor at this moment.
Cheng Buxi's mind had gone blank after saying that. Though she knew the whole thing about the marriage alliance with the Shen Family wasn't his fault, she was still burning with resentment. When did he get such a female companion? She didn't know. So she decided to throw caution to the wind—she'd said it and didn't regret it.
But what surprised her was that not only did the man not get angry, his earlier anger even faded. Instead, he looked at her with an expression full of interest, as if looking at a child. It was she who felt defeated.
"I'm not blaming you," her big brother said after a long while.
The dry towel, without refusal and with great care, covered her damp hair. He wiped slowly, as if following muscle memory.
As he wiped, he seemed to be reminiscing—about the scene of her younger self rolling barefoot on the sofa, laughing brightly with wet hair.
It had been so long, he felt as if it were a dream.
Giving a slap and then a sweet date—such tricks might work on little kids, but Cheng Buxi was past that age. She didn't fall for it at all.
When his hand reached out, she instinctively dodged and hugged the copy of Principles of Economics she'd brought back into her arms, holding it tightly.
Lu Tingzhou had only wanted to fix her stray hair. Seeing how unnaturally she was holding the book, he guessed a few things.
With a sidelong glance, he shifted the topic and asked nonchalantly, "How have your studies been lately? Tired?"
Like routine business.
His topic changed abruptly. Cheng Buxi had just cried, her temper still flaring. She blurted out, "Not tired."
The two syllables fell sharply, full of willfulness, in a tantrum.
She was being so openly impertinent, yet Lu Tingzhou showed no anger. Instead, he went along with her. "Mm. That book in your arms—what is it?"
At that, Cheng Buxi froze, as if caught.
She had almost forgotten: inside this book was an item unrelated to studies—a comic.