"How I am has nothing to do with you."
"It does," Cheng Yuan pulled her into his arms. "My heart aches. It aches so much."
"You're so good at sweet talk. You must have practiced on a lot of women." Jiang Xiao yanked his tie, not caring if it choked him. "But I don't like it. Don't say that anymore."
"Okay, I won't," Cheng Yuan said. "Tell me what you like to hear, and I'll say that."
His submissive look made her want to…
Jiang Xiao wanted to stir up trouble again, big trouble. "Did you make all this?"
"Mm."
"All morning?"
"Yes."
"Cooking is hard, isn't it?"
"As long as you like it."
"What about your hands? Are they okay?"
Jiang Xiao grabbed his hand and examined it. There were blisters on his fingers and the back of his hand—quite a few.
"Does it hurt?" she asked.
"No," he replied.
"Really?" Jiang Xiao pressed the biggest blister, smiling. "How does it feel?"
How did it feel?
It hurt. A lot.
But compared to heartache, this flesh wound was nothing.
Cheng Yuan's expression didn't change. He raised an eyebrow and coaxed softly, "Keep going."
He let her keep making trouble, keep torturing him. He could take it.
Since he said so, Jiang Xiao had no reason to stop. Her eyes curved. "Then how about this?"
Just now it was one finger; now it was two.
Cheng Yuan: "Good."
He could really take it. She wondered how long he could hold out.
Jiang Xiao withdrew her hand with a smile, her eyes roaming his face. Just when her smile was brightest, she swept the plates off the table with one motion.
The clatter startled the servants outside.
Jiang Xiao was still smiling. "And this? Still okay?"
He had worked all morning, and she knocked it over without even tasting it. His heartfelt gesture was trampled. Anyone would be hurt.
Jiang Xiao was curious about what Cheng Yuan was feeling now.
Angry?
Or furious?
Cheng Yuan was neither angry nor furious. He looked down at Jiang Xiao's feet and lifted her up. "Careful, you might get cut."
Jiang Xiao played with his tie. "Still not angry? President Cheng is amazing."
He couldn't get angry, because he had done worse things. He owed Jiang Xiao. Even if she set the house on fire, he wouldn't object.
"Your clothes are dirty. Which one do you want? I'll get it for you." He carried her to the walk-in closet and pointed at the women's clothes with tags still on. "These are all your size. You can wear any of them."
Jiang Xiao noticed for the first time that the entire closet—every cabinet—was filled with women's clothing. The colors were all to her liking.
Mostly dresses.
Accessories were in the drawers below.
Shoes and bags were below that.
Almost all were haute couture.
Without waiting for her to ask, Cheng Yuan volunteered, "Everything else is for you too."
"Did you buy them?" Jiang Xiao asked, then remembered something and laughed. "President Cheng is so busy with a thousand things—how could you possibly buy them yourself? Assistant Jiang bought them, right?"
In the past, gifts Jiang Xiao received were always bought by Jiang Yu. Cheng Yuan never put any thought into gifts.
At least, not for her.
"I bought every single one myself," Cheng Yuan said, pulling her into his arms. "Every piece."
Over the years, he traveled to many countries. Besides searching for her, he also bought her countless things.
Clothes, shoes, bags.
As if buying these things would bring her back.
"Do you like them?" He leaned down to her ear. "Xiao Xiao, tell me. Do you like them?"