She turned to him, slightly breathless, a playful glint in her eyes.
"Tired, Mr. Zhu?"
"Mm."
"You're getting old," Guo Min teased.
"No, I'm not," he replied immediately, his tone defensive.
"Yes, yes you are," she continued, stepping closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Look at those grey hairs."
That did it.
Zihan's gaze dropped almost instantly, his lips pressing into a thin line. Without a word, he pulled out his phone and tilted it slightly, checking his reflection with quiet seriousness.
The sight alone made Guo Min burst into laughter. "Zihan..." she laughed, clutching her stomach slightly. "You actually checked?"
He didn't answer and that only made her laugh more.
Then, softening, she stepped closer and gently held his face in her hands. "Even if there were grey hairs…" she said, her voice quieter now, warmer, "our bond wouldn't change."
For a brief second, Zihan stilled under her touch.
Something in his eyes shifted. Before it could linger too long, she let go and turned away, walking back toward the car as the sun dipped lower, casting everything in a golden hue.
"Time to head back," she said lightly. "The sun's almost down."
"… But I made food."
His voice was low.
Almost hesitant.
But she heard it.
Guo Min paused, her hand just inches from the car door. "…You cooked?" she asked, turning back slowly.
Zihan nodded. "I thought you'd like eating somewhere like this."
Guo Min fell silent for a moment. Then, without another word, she walked past him and lowered herself onto the grassy field.
"Where's the food?" she said, casually. "I'm hungry."
That was all Zihan needed.
A wide smile broke across his face as he turned quickly and headed for the car. Within seconds, he was back carrying a neatly packed basket.
He spread a cloth over the grass with surprising care, then began taking out the containers one by one.
Different dishes, carefully arranged then they both sat.
Guo Min didn't wait.
She reached out immediately, picking up a pair of chopsticks and diving in. "Mmm…" she hummed softly, her eyes lighting up as she tasted the stir-fried vegetables. "For a beginner, this is actually delicious."
Zihan didn't say anything, but the faint lift at the corner of his lips gave him away.
She moved on to the next box.
A bite.
A pause.
"Scallion pancakes…" she said, chewing slowly, then tilting her head. "Not fully done."
Zihan nodded without hesitation. "I'll do better next time."
She glanced at him briefly. "…Good," she replied simply, before continuing to eat.
And just like that, the evening unfolded. Guo Min ate freely, commenting without restraint, this one was good, that one needed work, this one was surprisingly impressive.
Zihan listened.
Quietly.
Carefully.
Like every word mattered.
And maybe, to him, it did.
At some point, she started talking more, not just about the food, but about random things. Work. Xiao Mei. A client that annoyed her.
Things she hadn't shared with him in a while.
Zihan didn't interrupt but just… stayed there with her.
The sky slowly deepened into night, stars beginning to dot the darkness above them.
The air grew cooler, but neither of them seemed in a hurry to leave. Until eventually, Guo Min leaned back slightly, exhaling. "…I'm full."
Zihan glanced at her. "That fast?"
She shot him a look. "Do you want me to keep eating just to praise your cooking?"
"…You could." he mumbled.
She ignored his look and sat up instead. "…Let's go home."
Zihan didn't argue. They got into the car, and as soon as she settled in, he reached over and draped his jacket around her shoulders, careful and quiet.
"Should I turn on the AC?" he asked, starting the engine.
"No," Guo Min replied, already lowering the window. "Just the night breeze."
A soft wind slipped into the car, carrying the coolness of the evening.
"Cold?" he asked after a moment.
"Mm… a little."
Without another word, he adjusted the heater, balancing the warmth against the breeze before pulling onto the road.
"Home?" he asked.
"…Home?" she echoed, glancing at him.
"The Wang mansion?" Zihan clarified, his eyes fixed on the road, sleeves still rolled, hands steady on the steering wheel.
For a brief second, her gaze lingered on him. Then she looked away. "Yes," she said. "Where else?"
Zihan's grip tightened almost imperceptibly on the wheel.
She hadn't chosen his home.
Guo Min noticed, but she didn't say anything.
The rest of the drive passed in silence.
When they arrived at the Wang mansion, the car came to a smooth stop. Guo Min stepped out, adjusting the jacket around her shoulders before turning back slightly. "Good night."
Zihan nodded faintly. "Good night."
She walked toward the entrance.
One step.
Two.
Three...
Then she stopped. Something tugged at her, and before she could overthink it, she turned back.
Zihan had just opened the car door to get in, but froze when he felt a hand wrap around his.
He looked behind him.
Guo Min stood there, her expression calm… but her eyes held something deeper. "I'll come back home tomorrow," she said.
For a second, Zihan didn't react, like he wasn't sure he heard her right.
"I'm giving you another chance, President Zhu," she continued, her tone steady but not cold. She paused. "…Don't fail me."
Zihan's fingers slowly curled around hers. "…I won't," he said quietly.
Guo Min studied him for a second longer.
Then she let go of his hand and walked away without another word.
Meanwhile (Four Seasons Club Lounge)
Ruoxi sat alone in the dimly lit lounge, a glass of red wine resting between her fingers as her other hand tapped sharply against her phone screen.
"Such an ass," she muttered under her breath, taking a slow sip. "Imagine thinking you can just touch me like that…"
Her lips curled in disgust.
"Some men really need to learn basic courtesy before trying to interact with women."
She set the glass down with a soft clink, irritation still simmering beneath her calm exterior. "…Turns out Mom was wrong. Tsk."
Grabbing her handbag, she stood up, ready to leave... then paused. Her eyes narrowed slightly as a familiar figure approached.
"Who managed to anger you this much?" Wu Xiang's voice came, casual as ever, as he walked toward her.
Ruoxi rolled her eyes immediately. "Why do you care, Mr. Wu?" she shot back.
"Mm," he hummed, already pulling out a chair and sitting down like he owned the space. He reached for an empty glass and poured himself some wine without asking. "I'd actually like to thank him."
He took a sip. "The last blind date you had wasn't enough of a lesson? Or are you just that desperate for a man?"
The words hadn't even fully settled... before the slap landed.
Loud enough to cut through the low murmur of the lounge.
Xiang's head tilted slightly from the impact. Silence followed, the kind that makes people look… then quickly look away.
Ruoxi's hand trembled faintly at her side, but her gaze was steady yet cold. "Don't you dare," she said, her voice low but cutting, "talk about my character like that." A beat. "Ever."
For a moment, Wu Xiang said nothing.
His jaw tightened. The easygoing expression he usually wore disappeared completely, replaced by something far sharper, something dangerous enough that even the surrounding crowd instinctively went quiet.
Slowly, he rose to his feet. The chair scraped softly against the floor, the sound cutting through the heavy silence that had settled around them. His gaze locked onto hers, sharp and unreadable.
"You've got quite the temper," Wu Xiang said at last, his voice low, stripped of its usual humor.
Ruoxi didn't flinch. She met his stare head-on, her own just as fierce. "Better than having no manners," she shot back.
Xiang took a step forward.
Instinctively, Ruoxi stepped back, not out of fear, but readiness. Her mind was already calculating... anything within reach. If he tried anything… She wouldn't hesitate.
Another step.
And another.
Until suddenly,
Her knees hit the edge of the chair behind her, and she dropped back into it.
Before she could react, Xiang leaned in.
Close.
Very close.
Their faces were only inches apart now. She could feel the faint warmth of his breath, see the sharp line of his jaw, the tension in it.
For a split second, Ruoxi's mind flashed through possibilities.
If he tries to kiss me… I'll...
"Tsk." her thoughts were cut short. The sound brushed against her ear.
He pulled back, adjusted his blazer as if nothing had happened, his expression already back to that infuriating polite smile.
Then he turned around, and walked away.
"…What is wrong with him?" she muttered under her breath, straightening in her seat. Heart racing ... not from fear though.