But by the time the two of them returned to Yuanyang Road, the small western-style villa was lit up, yet Xiao Cheng was nowhere to be seen—he hadn’t come back yet.
Zhou Jin helped Lin Aiyun carry her things to the room she’d slept in the night before. “Get some rest.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for Mr. Xiao to come back?” Lin Aiyun asked instinctively. But the moment the words left her mouth, she realized how inappropriate they sounded. She was a calligraphy teacher now, not Xiao Cheng’s woman—there was no reason for her to concern herself with when he returned.
Who practiced calligraphy late at night?
Asking like that only made it seem like she was trying too hard.
Sure enough, Zhou Jin shot her a look—one that felt distinctly off. Lin Aiyun’s face flushed. She cleared her throat: “Then I’ll go to sleep.”
“Mm.” Zhou Jin turned to leave, then paused and added: “Aside from the second floor, you’re free to move around the first floor. Feel free to use anything you find.”
Though Brother Cheng hadn’t explicitly said so, since he’d let this woman stay, the intent wasn’t hard to read. He could make that call on his own.
“Oh, alright.” Lin Aiyun was momentarily taken aback, then nodded to show she understood.
Once Zhou Jin left, she was alone in the entire villa. The space was large, and the echoes made every sound seem amplified many times over.
It had been so chaotic yesterday that she hadn’t had a chance to take a proper bath. Lin Aiyun had been uncomfortable all day, and now that she finally had some free time, that was the first thing on her mind. Since Xiao Cheng hadn’t returned yet, the whole house was her private space—and with that, her mood relaxed.
The bathroom was to the right of her room, near the stairs and the front door. It was as large as a bedroom in the Ding household, its walls and floor paved with smooth, polished marble. It was clear that no one had used it before—even the shampoo and soap on the shelf were brand new, still wrapped.
Lin Aiyun boiled several kettles of hot water and poured them into the wooden tub. When there was enough for washing both her hair and body, she stopped.
In this era, there were no water heaters or showers—you had to squat to bathe, which was quite inconvenient. But there was no helping it. She hadn’t been used to it when she first came back either, but had gradually adapted.
Summer was approaching, and the weather was getting warmer. After a long, tedious process, she finally finished. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the steam, but her body felt clean and refreshed. Letting out a comfortable sigh, she smiled slightly, tidied up the bathroom, gathered her dirty clothes, and headed back to her room—planning to wash them tomorrow morning.
Focusing only on the clothes in her arms, she didn’t notice the tall figure standing right in front of her. She walked straight into him. Startled, she gasped and instinctively let go—everything scattered to the floor.
“Don’t watch where you’re going, or do you not have eyes?” A lazy, mocking voice came from above. Lin Aiyun’s already pink face turned even redder, the flush spreading to the tips of her ears.
Xiao Cheng had just come back and was about to head straight upstairs when he walked in and caught a strong smell of firewood. Following the source, he saw the kitchen in a complete mess, and from the first-floor bathroom came the sound of splashing water.
He’d almost forgotten—there was another person in the house now.
Looked like he’d need to set some ground rules. Otherwise, she’d leave the floors all wet and filthy every day.
Just as he finished the thought, the splashing stopped—she was done. Not long after, she came out, all flustered, not even looking where she was going. Xiao Cheng raised an eyebrow, making no move to step aside or stop her. The next second, her soft body collided straight into him. He kindly reached out to steady her—and his hand landed perfectly on her slender waist.
A pleasant fragrance lingered in the air—the same scent as the shampoo he usually used.
Fresh out of the bath, her hair hung wetly down to her waist, water dripping from the ends onto her cotton nightgown. The plain fabric clung to her, hinting at the figure beneath. Her collar was askew, revealing a patch of pale, dazzling skin at her chest.
Perhaps from nervousness, her chest rose and fell heavily, her delicate collarbones moving with each breath.
His palm against her waist grew hot. Xiao Cheng was still in the black shirt he’d worn during the day, its collar half-open, the veins on his neck prominent. His Adam’s apple bobbed—a subtle, stirring sign.
They were standing too close. The atmosphere instantly turned charged.
“I’m sorry—I didn’t expect you to be back, Mr. Xiao. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She spoke in a fluster, stepping back two paces to create distance.
The fragrance faded slightly. Xiao Cheng rubbed his fingertips together, his eyes narrowing. Before he could say anything, he saw the woman, who had been trembling a moment ago, step forward again and quickly bend down to pick something up from near his feet.
But his eyes were faster. Seeing what it was, he raised an eyebrow.
A lotus-colored bellyband, its two thin straps still exposed, dangling beside her leg.
Noticing his burning gaze, Lin Aiyun followed his line of sight—then abruptly hid the two straps away. From his angle, he could clearly see the skin at the back of her neck slowly turning red, her whole body resembling a boiled shrimp.
“Miss Lin, you should be more careful in the future. You’re not the only one living in this house.”
The audacity of him saying that, as if he hadn’t been the one stomping around in nothing but boxers last night cursing at people.
Hearing this, Lin Aiyun nearly choked on her own saliva. Any normal person—anyone who knew the meaning of the word “gentleman”—would have pretended not to see it, wouldn’t have made her feel so embarrassed. But Xiao Cheng showed no such restraint, saying it so bluntly.
At the same time, she noticed that he’d switched from “Miss Lin” to “Miss Lin, Teacher”—playing the part of an obedient student with a straight face, while an ambiguous, forbidden tension hung in the air.
“I… I understand.” It was his house. What else could she do but comply?
Xiao Cheng was in a good mood and didn’t feel like nitpicking further—but he hadn’t forgotten why he’d been standing there. “Don’t get the floor wet. I don’t like it.”
Lin Aiyun turned and saw that the path from the kitchen to the bathroom was covered in water. It was indeed her doing—she hadn’t wanted to make too many trips back and forth, so she’d carried a full bucket all at once for convenience. But the water was too heavy, and she wasn’t strong enough—every step she took spilled some, and bit by bit, it had added up to this.
She’d planned to clean up after her bath, but she hadn’t expected Xiao Cheng to come back at this time—and catch her in the act.
“There won’t be a next time.”
Seeing Lin Aiyun looking like she wanted to crawl into a crack in the floor, Xiao Cheng didn’t say much more. He acknowledged her with a grunt and was about to head to his room when she called out to him.
“Mr. Xiao, when should we start the calligraphy lessons?” This was a perfect opportunity to increase their interaction and build a connection—she didn’t want to miss it.
Calligraphy lessons? He’d never actually intended to have them. Complete waste of time.
But meeting her earnest gaze, the words that reached his lips somehow took a different turn. He waved his hand casually: “Start with Zhou Jin. Teach him well first, then we’ll talk.”
“…” Are you sure?
She didn’t say the last three words out loud, but Xiao Cheng could read them in her eyes. What was there to be unsure about? The only reason he’d brought it up at all was to keep her around—otherwise, he wouldn’t have mentioned something that had given him such a headache as a child.
Little did he know that not long after, he’d eat his own words and bitterly regret this decision.
But that was still to come. For now, Xiao Cheng leaned casually against the stair railing and said with mock seriousness: “I’m very busy. If you can’t even teach Zhou Jin well, then don’t bother teaching me. No matter how much time and effort it takes, you’re going to make him a decent student.”
The longer, the better—at least until he’d cured that damn insomnia of his.
Zhou Jin, who only knew a few characters and had barely attended school for a few days, thought: Thanks a lot.
Having grown used to the jealous, possessive Xiao Cheng of her previous life, the current version—so generously allowing her to be around another man—left Lin Aiyun frozen in place for a long while. When she finally snapped out of it, he was already gone.
“Teach Zhou Jin well.” Lin Aiyun murmured to herself. Though the student had changed, she wasn’t discouraged. Everything took time. What mattered was that they were living under the same roof now, seeing each other every day—it was only a matter of time before they grew closer.
Besides, since Xiao Cheng had kept her here, she might as well make her presence known. From their previous meetings, she was fairly certain he had some liking for her—but they weren’t familiar yet, and that small bit of affection was like a drop in the bucket when it came to building a relationship.
But even small streams could converge into an ocean. She didn’t believe she couldn’t win over the young version of him—it would just take some time.
Mulling over these thoughts, she walked back to her room. Without a hairdryer, she had to let her hair air-dry naturally. With nothing else to do, she unpacked her things. She didn’t have much—just the essentials and a few changes of clothes. They occupied only a tiny corner of the large, exquisite wardrobe by the wall.
It looked out of place, and rather shabby.
“Tsk.”
She really needed to save up some money to buy nicer clothes. Wearing these old, ragged, plain outfits day after day—even she, with her taste shaped by the aesthetics of the future, found them drab. Xiao Cheng would surely find them even worse.
In the mirror, the young girl in the thin nightgown had delicate features but looked rather unkempt. Her eyebrows, never shaped before, grew wild and unruly—nearly meeting in the middle. Fortunately, their natural shape was decent enough, so they didn’t look too messy.
She took a small knife and carefully tweezed away the stray hairs. The difference was immediate.
An oval face, willow-leaf brows, a pair of clear, sparkling eyes, a small, straight nose, full rosy lips, and a pointed chin. Her pale, smooth skin was the kind that stood out in a crowd—she was universally acknowledged as a beauty.
But for both men and women, good looks alone weren’t enough. Beauty combined with any other skill was the real winning hand—that was an unchanging truth.
But that bastard Xiao Cheng, in her past life, had started out as a superficial hypocrite who only cared about looks. Yet that was just fondness—the same kind you’d have for a cat or a dog. Nothing particularly special.
It was only later, as they got to know each other, that they fell in love. Xiao Cheng’s love was passionate and possessive—not even death could take her from his side.
When they first met, he had already been a mature, steady man—successful, commanding, a figure of influence in the business world, the undisputed leader of the capital. But she never expected him to be so shameless in matters of love—even resorting to schemes like coercion and abduction.
Of course, she hadn’t exactly resisted either.
After all, who could refuse a well-maintained, wealthy, powerful man with no marriage history? Setting aside his impressive background, Xiao Cheng’s face alone was irresistible—every move he made was enough to make women flock to him. And his bearing was something that naturally commanded admiration.
He was unlike any man she’d ever encountered—dangerous and alluring. It was far too easy to fall for him.
Lin Aiyun gave her cheeks a light pat. She couldn’t keep dwelling on the past. Right now, she needed to focus on the present.
The Xiao Cheng of now was a side of him she’d never seen—ruthless and arrogant, sharp-tongued and relentless, always leaving her feeling flustered. Wild and fierce, with a scowl that could intimidate anyone, she couldn’t read him at all.
This time when he’d returned from the capital, the approachability he’d briefly shown was gone, replaced by an irritable, murderous aura. Whoever had crossed him must have been asking for it.
He’d been hard to approach before—now he was even more difficult.
What kind of girl did he like when he was young?
Innocent? Sweet? Sexy? A string of adjectives floated through her mind. Lin Aiyun plopped down by the window, her thoughts tangling into knots as she failed to guess.
After agonizing for a long time, she came to one conclusion: whether old or young, he was attracted to her looks. Starting from that angle couldn’t be wrong.
But seduction had its levels. She couldn’t just strip naked and crawl into his bed—that wouldn’t earn her any respect.
Lin Aiyun rolled around on the bed, and once her hair was half-dry, she got up to apply medicine to her bruises. They were still purple and blue, looking even more alarming than before, but the pain had lessened. The scratches on her legs had begun to scab over—they’d probably heal completely with a few more days of care.
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