What’s gotten into him?
Why was he running away like that?
Men were so fickle, Gu Nianyi thought. It wasn’t like she was going to eat him. No, it was more like…
He was the one who might devour her.
Any more thoughts like that, and it would veer into territory not suitable for children. Gu Nianyi shook her head and silently recited the Great Compassion Mantra to dispel her wicked notions.
Fortunately, Lu Jin’an had stopped obsessing over sleeping in separate beds.
The hotel’s soundproofing wasn’t as good as at home. With only a single wall between their rooms, every little sound from outside filtered straight into her ears.
After Lu Jin’an left his room, he didn’t go to sleep. Instead, faint noises drifted from his side now and then—heaven knew what he was up to.
He was probably working. Owls only hunted at night, after all.
Though these days, he seemed more like a vampire.
The five-star hotel’s bedding was luxuriously soft against the skin, much like the sheets at home. Gu Nianyi sank right into it.
Clutching a pillow to her chest for that comforting sense of security, she drifted off to sleep in no time.
With no one else beside her, she didn’t have to worry about rolling over and disturbing anyone.
In the early morning, a noise by her ear jolted Gu Nianyi awake. It wasn’t Lu Jin’an’s fault—her sleep was always light, her nerves a bit frayed.
And she’d forgotten her earplugs.
The sound of running water came from the bathroom.
Why was Lu Jin’an showering first thing in the morning?
Gu Nianyi grabbed her phone from the nightstand. It was just past six.
In the profound silence of dawn, even the slightest sound was amplified endlessly. Her drowsiness lifted slowly, only to crash back down.
Irritation bubbled up inside Gu Nianyi, and she buried her head under the covers.
Soon, the miscellaneous noises faded away.
Then came footsteps, drawing closer from afar—not his usual steady tread, but deliberately lightened.
They stopped right outside her door.
What was Lu Jin’an up to?
Gu Nianyi’s fingers instinctively gripped the blanket, her nails turning white. Her heart leaped into her throat.
Was he about to do the same thing as that morning?
Sleep fled from Gu Nianyi completely. She held her breath, eyes fixed on the door, listening intently.
Lu Jin’an’s hand settled on the doorknob. It began to turn downward—the door would swing open any second.
The girl yanked her head under the covers in a flash, peeking out through a small gap with just her eyes.
But no approaching footsteps followed. Lu Jin’an didn’t come in.
Gu Nianyi had no interest in guessing his intentions.
When she woke again, the room was empty save for herself.
Lu Jin’an had returned from outside in his workout clothes, breakfast in hand.
His hair was still damp, a few dark strands falling across his forehead. “You’re up. Time for breakfast.”
His deep black eyes gave her a fleeting glance before he headed into the bathroom.
Gu Nianyi’s delicate brows furrowed in confusion. Even back in South City, he hadn’t showered this much.
She could understand after exercising, but what about that early morning one?
Lu Jin’an took a quick shower and emerged in a white shirt. By then, the girl was already sitting on the floor, digging into breakfast.
Gu Nianyi took a sip of her warm milk. Her clear eyes lifted briefly, then dropped. The man was toweling off his hair, droplets clinging to the dark, messy strands.
After hesitating and mentally rehearsing her words, she spoke up. “Dr. Lu, this is North City. The air here’s dry.”
Lu Jin’an’s hand paused. He cleared his throat. “And…?”
Her voice softened. “It’s not good to shower so many times. Your skin could dry out, flake, itch—even trigger allergies. I totally respect and understand your cleanliness habits, though.”
That last bit was pure survival instinct.
Three showers in twelve hours—his germaphobia was terrifying.
And Dr. Lu only ever used moisturizing water, never body lotion.
Lu Jin’an took a swig of ice water, his profound gaze drifting to the window. Nonchalantly, he said, “I run hot.”
“Oh. Got it.” She was overstepping.
Head down, the girl fell silent, quietly munching her pan-fried bun and gulping it down whole.
Her cheeks puffed out like a cute little hamster.
Lu Jin’an sat beside her, legs crossed, expression cool. “Where to today?”
“Just wandering around.”
It was supposed to be a solo trip, no fixed itinerary—just hit the popular spots, see where the day took her.
With an extra person, her indecision kicked in hard.
Lu Jin’an tilted his head, studying Gu Nianyi’s profile. Her bare face glowed with natural brightness, cool and aloof.
Only he knew that beneath that seemingly docile exterior lurked a stubborn streak.
Her long hair was clipped up with a shark clip, baring her slender, pale neck.
Two tiny black moles dotted the side of it.
The distance between them was just right—not too close, not too far.
Like ink drops on pristine rice paper: an accident that added unexpected allure.
The moles rose and fell gently with her breaths, alive with subtle vitality.
Without a word, Lu Jin’an shifted his position, propping an arm on the other side of the sofa and looking away. “Any places you want to go?”
Gu Nianyi answered honestly. “The famous ones.”
Fulfilling a childhood dream.
Holiday crowds at hot spots meant swarms of people, packed shoulder to shoulder.
In her heart, Gu Nianyi prayed: Dr. Lu, please say no.
A stray lock of hair slipped from her temple. Lu Jin’an swiftly tucked it behind her ear.
The motion was quick, fluid, seamless—utterly natural.
Gu Nianyi flinched away slightly. Up close, his cool aura felt overwhelming, like it might engulf her.
That tiny dodge didn’t escape Lu Jin’an’s notice.
Was he really that scary?
The man stood and walked into the bedroom. “Grab a jacket. Let’s head out.”
The sun blazed outside, and the daytime-nighttime temperature swing was huge.
Fine. Gu Nianyi’s last shred of hope died.
Drooping her head, she went to her room and pulled out a camel-colored knit sweater.
The two emerged from their rooms one after the other.
They hadn’t gone two steps when Gu Nianyi lagged a meter behind Lu Jin’an. From behind, no one would peg them as a pair.
Lu Jin’an halted at the door, his gaze flicking through the gap between them. “You’re staying awfully far back.”
With a wave of his arm, he shut the freshly opened door.
Gu Nianyi explained earnestly, “This sweater sheds. You hate anything that sheds.”
Nian Gao shed cat hair; the sweater was sheep’s wool. She knew the difference.
Besides, she was used to this distance—it felt safe.
Lu Jin’an let out a huff of laughter. “You remember that well enough. I told you not to be so polite with me, but you never listen.”
“Situations call for specific measures.”
Gu Nianyi ducked her head, muttering under her breath, “Dr. Lu, you’re so chatty today.”
Lu Jin’an leaned down slightly, bringing his face close to hers. “Getting tired of me?”
That familiar crisp scent washed over her again. Gu Nianyi stepped back on her heel and turned away. “I wouldn’t dare.”
“Or maybe you don’t want to go out with me.”
Lu Jin’an fixed her with a steady gaze, his tone even.
The room fell abruptly silent.
After a moment, Gu Nianyi lifted her chin, meeting his eyes head-on. Her clear gaze held no evasion. “Yeah. I have to think about your feelings, can’t just do whatever. No real destination—just wandering.”
No need to mind others. Go wherever she pleased.
Maybe just gaze at a tree or a lake, simple as that.
Their eyes locked, an invisible line stretching between them.
Lu Jin’an stayed quiet for a beat, searching her eyes for clues to her mood. “With someone else, if there’s too much walking or the sights suck, you’ll blame yourself. If the food’s bad, you’ll blame yourself. You’ll think you didn’t plan right, worry they’ll resent you.”
During that minute of hesitation, Lu Jin’an pondered the gentlest way to put it without hurting her.
In the end, he went straight.
His eyes never left her, drinking in her every reaction.
The girl went still, her flickering gaze confirming it.
“So you pick solo trips.”
Lu Jin’an leaned against the door, tilting his head to stare at the round ceiling light. “Not entirely. You wouldn’t with Ming Yue. But with me or anyone else, you feel you have to be polite—with me, you can’t relax.”
Her voice grew smaller, muffled like a rusty engine.
“Yeah. We’re not that close. I can’t fully unwind. Going out with you, I’d worry about your complaints.”
In the past, Gu Nianyi would’ve kept it bottled up. Maybe time together had rubbed off on her—straight talk now.
There was another reason she left unsaid.
Her parents always said travel was a waste, scolded her for wanting toys at festivals—money didn’t grow on trees.
She was raised on tough-love lessons.
Lu Jin’an said, “We’re husband and wife—the closest bond there is. You don’t have to take everything on yourself. If something goes wrong, it’s my fault for not planning better.”
“Don’t worry about others’ feelings, Gu Nianyi. Be free. Do what you want, go where you want.”
“Be the carefree Gu Nianyi.”
His tone was gentle persuasion, like a clear mountain stream trickling into her heart.
Gu Nianyi laughed. “Oh, got it, Parrot Doctor.”
The owl had turned into a parrot, chattering nonstop.
In all their months of marriage, he probably hadn’t said this much at once.
Lu Jin’an chuckled lowly. “Owl, parrot—what other animals fit me?”
“Let’s go, Dr. Lu.”
Gu Nianyi sidestepped him and twisted the doorknob.
They walked side by side now, the gap between them much narrower.
Lu Jin’an’s lips curved up almost imperceptibly. He reached out and pressed the elevator button for the basement level.
“The place we’re going to is easier by subway. Dr. Lu, you’ve ridden the subway before, right?”
The elevator was empty, so Gu Nianyi grew a bit bolder.
Lu Jin’an let out a hum. “The first time I rode the subway, you weren’t even born yet.”
Gu Nianyi counted back on her fingers to figure out the year—last century. “Wow, Dr. Lu, you’re ancient.”
Each time he opened up, she hit him with another merciless jab.
Lu Jin’an lowered his gaze. “You prefer people your own age?”
Gu Nianyi turned her head away. “Nice try digging a trap. I’m not falling for it.”
So, what kind of guy did she like?
Clearly not someone like him. She kept griping about his age.
Women lived an average of six years longer than men, and he was already four years older than her. As time passed, he’d only age faster relative to her.
North City during a holiday was packed on the subway. They couldn’t even squeeze onto the previous train.
Noticing the tension on her face, Lu Jin’an patted her head. “Relax. The next one’s in three minutes. I’m not some domineering CEO from a TV drama raking in millions a minute.”
The subway pulled in quickly. Lu Jin’an stood behind Gu Nianyi, shielding her as she boarded first.
There wasn’t a single empty seat in the car. The two of them got crammed into a tiny corner.
Standing face-to-face.
The top of Gu Nianyi’s head brushed Lu Jin’an’s chin, her lips hovering near his collarbone.
She didn’t dare breathe too deeply, afraid of disturbing him.
She was starting to regret it—regret not listening to him and driving instead.
His breath tickled the tips of her hair, his arm braced on the rail beside her.
It felt like he had her encircled in his arms.
She couldn’t shake off her mental burdens in an instant, but chatting with Lu Jin’an had a kind of magic. It made her feel utterly carefree.
“You’re pretty cheap, then.”
“So, the Cheap Husband.”
Gu Nianyi: “…” Speechless. She’d dug her own pit, and the boomerang had come right back to hit her.
“Dr. Lu, are you a Scorpio? You hold grudges like one.”
She’d whispered it, but Lu Jin’an heard anyway.
“No. I just remember what you say.”
A passenger needed to get off, so Lu Jin’an shifted forward a step. The words seemed to brush right against Gu Nianyi’s ear.
I just remember what you say. How ambiguously intimate.
Gu Nianyi’s ear tips flushed beyond her control. She pinched her earlobe and let out a soft breath.
In her mind, she repeated over and over: It’s just an ordinary sentence. Nothing more. Don’t overthink it.
Until the subway reached their stop, Gu Nianyi didn’t say another word to Lu Jin’an.
They followed the signs into the square.
It was grand and solemn, yet infused with a warm sense of power.
Sensing what was on her mind, Lu Jin’an raised his phone. “I’ll take your picture.”
Gu Nianyi eyed him. “You sure you can?”
“Little Gu Nianyi, don’t underestimate me.”
Taking a photo was just point and shoot, right? How hard could it be?
Gu Nianyi had already grown used to the nickname. “Dr. Lu, stick to your expertise. Photography isn’t your thing.”
“Give it a try.” How would he know if he didn’t try?
Facts proved Lu Jin’an was indeed hopeless at it.
Gu Nianyi randomly asked a girl in the square to snap a couple shots for her.
Side by side, they crushed Lu Jin’an’s earnest attempts.
His were all fifty-fifty faces, overexposed disasters—prime candidates for deletion.
“Dr. Lu, nobody’s good at everything.”
They crossed a nearby bridge to another famous spot.
The front hall had no shady trees, just red walls.
Gu Nianyi remarked, “No wonder the concubines in those court dramas run into each other all the time. The imperial garden’s tiny.”
It was only about half the size of the central garden at Cypress View Pavilion.
Looking back, the ten-meter-high walls of the East and West Six Palaces had trapped so many women’s lives.
Lu Jin’an: “Rose-tinted glasses shattered?”
Gu Nianyi tilted her head to look at him. “Dr. Lu, you even know about filters? They haven’t shattered—it’s just that real feelings hit different.”
They wandered along, savoring the leisurely pace of time, until they ducked into a narrow alley lined with street food stalls.
Right at the entrance was a cart selling tanghulu.
In a city as pricey as North City, a skewer of glutinous rice candied hawthorns cost only eight bucks.
The craving she’d had since elementary school days, carried for over a decade.
Something once out of reach was now effortlessly hers.
There was also malt candy and bamboo-tube rice dumplings. “A bit wasteful—let’s take them back for a midnight snack.”
She only took a few bites of each.
“Hand them over.” Lu Jin’an polished off the rest, including the parts she’d bitten.
Besides her grandparents, he was the third person who didn’t mind eating her leftovers.
“Dr. Lu, is this your first time trying these?”
He generally disliked overly sweet things. “No. Too sweet, and Lady Ruan says they’re unhygienic.”
“Then we can’t tell Mom I fed you this stuff.” Gu Nianyi paused in front of an ice cream shop.
Facing her bright eyes, Lu Jin’an had no defenses. He sighed. “If you want it, get it.”
Gu Nianyi dashed inside and bought one right away.
Her teeth chattered—it was nothing like eating in summer.
Suddenly, Gu Nianyi remembered her period seemed to be dragging on this time.
She brushed it off. No big deal.
At the alley’s end was a century-old shop selling roasted chestnuts. Gu Nianyi was too full, but Lu Jin’an said he wanted some.
She sat waiting under a tree and pulled out her phone. Just then, Lu Jinxuan messaged her: 【Sister-in-Law, you’re working hard, out playing with my brother.】
The moment Lu Jinxuan got home, Lady Ruan had been griping about her brother—not knowing how to pamper a girl, taking Yi Yi out and making her walk all day.
How did Lady Ruan know?
WeChat step counts had spilled the beans: over 25,000 steps. In trendy terms, it was a boot camp vacation.
Gu Nianyi: 【Cat questioning.gif】
Lu Jinxuan: 【My brother? He’s great in every way except he’s a bit short on patience. He thinks shopping is the world’s biggest time sink. Lining up for good food? Not worth it to him. What’s so must-eat about anything? And waiting half a year for a bag? Yeah, he’s not romantic enough, so he just walked you all day.】
Definitely family—no holding back on the roasting.
Gu Nianyi glanced at Lu Jin’an queuing up ahead, not a hint of impatience on his face.
He hadn’t made her stand and wait with him.
He was the one who’d walked with her all day, the one fulfilling her wishes.
Gu Nianyi: 【Dr. Lu’s pretty great. Not that bad.】
Lu Jinxuan: 【Sister-in-Law, you’ve just not seen many guys. You treat my brother like treasure.】
Gu Nianyi: 【……】
She wasn’t going that far.
The last batch of chestnuts left just a small bag—perfect for Lu Jin’an as the final customer.
The people behind him tried to negotiate, asking him to share.
Lu Jin’an pointed at the girl under the tree. “My wife likes them. Can’t share.”
It still wasn’t enough for his liking.
She sat beneath the tree, lips curved in a faint, gentle smile as sunlight filtered through the leaves.
It fell on her, draping her in a soft glow.
“Who’re you chatting with that has you smiling like that?” Lu Jin’an had sat beside her at some point, already peeling chestnuts.
Gu Nianyi’s shoulders twitched. “Jin Xuan.”
“What’d she say?”
“Nothing much. Just asked what I was up to.”
Gu Nianyi’s words came out all jumbled, like a kid caught red-handed.
Lu Jinxuan had just sent a bunch of photos of Lu Jin’an—his expression practically copy-pasted.
Stone-faced, keep out.
Lu Jin’an focused on peeling. “Ignore whatever she says. Girl’s got no filter.”
“Got it.”
Gu Nianyi realized belatedly that Lu Jin’an probably didn’t care at all.
Why was she so nervous?
The tension had her lower belly cramping. She rubbed it, but the ache didn’t ease.
She’d make an appointment when they got back.