◎It’s fine if you gain a little weight. Otherwise, you’re too skinny and won’t have the stamina.◎
The morning light wasn’t dazzling. It filtered through the gaps in the curtains and sprinkled onto Song Chan, beautiful as if she were posing for an artistic photo.
It was the weekend, no need to go to work—a perfect time to laze in bed.
But Song Chan had something on her mind. The thought of going home to face Lady Xu killed any desire to sleep in.
She had figured out her birth mother Xu Wan’s temper twenty years ago. This summons definitely had to do with that explosive hot search incident from before.
No matter how she pressed Su Yicen, he refused to tell her how he’d smoothed things over with Lady Xu last time.
With Su Yicen staying tight-lipped, Song Chan was out of options.
A knock at the door interrupted her jumbled thoughts.
It was Su Yicen, there to wake her for breakfast.
He’d pushed back his schedule with Feng Zheng yesterday, freeing up a rare full day. That’s why he’d gotten up early to buy breakfast and bring it back.
Song Chan came out after washing up, and the aroma of breakfast wafted right to her nose. The table was laden with all sorts of food—he’d practically hauled an entire breakfast stall home.
Seeing her stare blankly at the table, Su Yicen spoke in a steady voice.
“That favorite breakfast stall of yours wasn’t open yet. I’m not familiar with the ones around here.”
“I didn’t know what you’d like, so I bought a bit of everything.”
She didn’t know when it had started, but he’d become so attuned to her preferences—even knowing her go-to breakfast spot.
Still, with the table overflowing—porridge alone in two or three varieties—Song Chan couldn’t help saying,
“There’s so much. It’ll go to waste if we can’t finish it.”
Su Yicen’s lips curved up unconsciously, his voice gentle like he was coaxing a child.
“No worries. You eat first, and I’ll finish whatever’s left.”
Their exchange cut short there. Song Chan, usually a chatterbox, turned into someone you could hit with three sticks and not get a peep out of.
The moment she thought about the man whose feelings she’d burst the bubble on last night—now sitting right beside her—that strange, unstoppable itch in her heart felt like a thousand ants crawling over her skin.
‘That was way too rash. I shouldn’t have brought it out into the open like that.’
Song Chan silently cursed her carelessness. She’d blurted out his hidden feelings in a moment of loose lips, but overlooked how they should face each other afterward—how they should even interact.
Su Yicen seemed perfectly normal now, though. It was as if that line from last night hadn’t come from him at all.
He even calmly picked up a youtiao and placed it in her bowl.
“Thanks, thanks.”
Song Chan accepted it politely with both hands, treating him like a superior.
Her body instinctively shifted away, putting some distance between them without thinking.
But as she tried to scoot further, the wrist she’d braced against the table was firmly gripped by the man beside her.
His warm palm transmitted his body heat. When Song Chan instinctively turned her head, she met Su Yicen’s eyes head-on. His tone wasn’t accusatory.
“Aren’t you going to eat properly? Why do you keep dodging?”
She stuffed the youtiao into her mouth, manually sealing her lips. Her cheeks bulged as she mumbled a refusal—even she didn’t know what she said.
Su Yicen seemed pleased, though. He scooted his chair closer, closing the gap she’d just created.
As if he had no idea how much she could eat, he kept piling breakfast onto her plate.
She gulped down some soy milk to swallow the youtiao that had nearly choked her.
Catching her breath, Song Chan hurriedly stopped his feeding frenzy.
“I really can’t eat that much.”
Su Yicen repeated, “Whatever you can’t finish, I’ll eat.”
But this time, he added, “It’s fine if you gain a little weight. Otherwise, you’re too skinny and won’t have the stamina.”
What did he mean by no stamina? In what way did she lack stamina?
Song Chan blanked out at the sudden remark, completely baffled. Just as her thoughts started veering that way, Su Yicen cut in.
“Miss Song, don’t overthink it. That’s not what I meant.”
What did he mean? What was that supposed to mean?
Did he think her mind was that dirty?
The breakfast turned her face flushed and heart racing, but under Su Yicen’s watchful eye, she did eat more than usual today.
She devoured like a whirlwind: one youtiao, one egg, a small meat bun, and a bowl of soy milk. Then Song Chan bolted back to her room to change.
As she reached the bedroom door, Su Yicen tossed out casually,
“No rush. I’ll wait for you in the living room.”
While she changed, he’d finish off her leftovers.
These felt like behaviors between lovers or a married couple—intimate gestures.
For some reason, Song Chan felt like an old married couple with Su Yicen. They’d been legally wed for over half a year now, after all—not exactly newlyweds.
Her swirling thoughts tangled into a mess in her head. Song Chan shook her head, trying to shake off that odd feeling.
After changing, right before opening the door, Song Chan steeled her resolve.
Since talking would just land her in his traps, to stay out of trouble, she’d minimize speech and interaction with Su Yicen.
She held firm all the way to the car, biting her lower lip the whole time. She hadn’t said a word, avoiding eye contact with Su Yicen as much as possible.
The car started, but Su Yicen didn’t hit the gas right away. Song Chan stared straight ahead, not daring to move her gaze an inch. From the corner of her eye, she could feel a burning stare from beside her.
The low, masculine voice that suddenly spoke made her jolt.
“Miss Song, we’re heading to your house…”
“So, no need to be so tense.”
Startled, Song Chan straightened her already rigid posture even more.
She said stubbornly, “I’m not tense.”
Leaning back in his seat, half-turned toward her, Su Yicen glanced at her hands and mercilessly called out her bluff.
“You’re wrinkling your clothes.”
Song Chan looked down. Sure enough, the crumpled hem smoothed out under her flustered hand.
Just as she scrambled for a way to change the subject, she sensed movement beside her.
Su Yicen let out a light sigh, shaking his head helplessly as he leaned over.
“You… what are you doing!”
Her sharp, soft feminine voice exploded without warning in his ear, ringing in his head.
He didn’t answer with words—his actions spoke for him.
Su Yicen’s slender, well-jointed fingers brushed past her eyes as he pulled out the seatbelt beside her and buckled it in.
She’d forgotten to fasten her seatbelt, and Su Yicen was doing it for her. Her held breath eased as Song Chan let out a deep inhale.
The breeze from her breath brushed over Su Yicen as he pulled back. His movement paused, and he turned to meet her gaze.
The close-range eye contact left Song Chan nowhere to hide. Her hands clenched the seatbelt strap, her tension plain in her eyes.
Su Yicen seemed to see right through her. His lingering gaze made her heart race.
Only when a flush crept onto Song Chan’s face did he smirk in satisfaction and slowly settle back into the driver’s seat.
The car headed toward Song Chan’s home. Su Yicen gripped the wheel with one hand. After a quiet stretch, he finally spoke up to remind her.
“Miss Song, try to look more natural.”
“Otherwise, it’ll really give us away.”
The ride passed in silence as Song Chan struggled to rein in her nerves.
No matter what, Su Yicen was right—she was too tense. Lady Xu was her mom, not easy to fool. One unnatural expression, and she’d spot something off.
The car eased out of Hangbei’s busiest commercial district and into the old town’s bustling area. The buildings here were a bit dated compared to the commercial zone, but it was still prime real estate in Hangbei.
Song Chan’s family were old Hangbei natives, settled here since her grandfather’s generation. Their home sat right in the heart of the old town.
The car, catching all green lights, slowed to a stop near a high school as students from cram school crossed the zebra crossing ahead.
On the crosswalk, a boy stopped a girl ahead of him. He stuffed a note into her hand, then shyly turned and ran off.
His bright, boyish voice carried through the car window. He shouted back to the girl to read it at home, glancing over his shoulder every few steps as he bolted away.
It was pure, innocent affection—something everyone passing by understood.
The most awkward, heartfelt confession of their age.
In the car, the scene touched Song Chan. Back in high school, she’d often gotten love letters or little notes confessing crushes.
She’d turned them all down, but those tokens of past memories were safely stored in a special metal box.
The car had been quiet the whole ride until Su Yicen broke the silence.
That scene must’ve stirred his memories too. He asked her,
“Miss Song, do you still remember that note I gave you?”
The sudden question threw Song Chan off, but she played along.
“What note?”
Su Yicen sounded hopeful as he continued.
“The last time we met back then, I gave you a note…”
“It said…”
Before he finished, Song Chan’s heart leaped to her throat. She dreaded him saying it was a confession.
As if reading her mind, Su Yicen’s even tone slowed, turning indifferent.
“No need to tense up, Miss Song. It was just a contact number.”
His voice was flat as water, emotionless.
“Since you’ve forgotten, oh well.”
‘Whew—’
Song Chan let out a long breath, her suspended heart settling.
She truly had no memory of the note Su Yicen mentioned, but as long as that metal box was around, it probably hadn’t been lost.
Back at the neighborhood, Song Chan left Su Yicen to park downstairs and headed up first.
Nearly a month since her last visit. Mother and daughter reunited, and Lady Xu gave her precious girl a brief loving squeeze.
But before Song Chan could savor the tight hug, Lady Xu’s words snapped her back to reality.
“Chanchan, where’s Yicen?”
Song Chan blanked for a second, nearly forgetting her married status.
She pointed out the window. “He’s… parking downstairs. He’ll be up soon.”
Before the words finished, steady footsteps approached from the cracked security door.
Su Yicen pushed the door open, hat, sunglasses, and mask concealing his face completely. His impressive height and build were unmistakable, though—true fans would spot him instantly.
Once inside, Su Yicen pulled off his mask and greeted Xu Wan politely.
“Mom, hi.”
“Hi, I’m doing great.”
Xu Wan beamed. She had to admit, she was quite pleased with this son-in-law.
She patted Su Yicen’s solid arm, her smile lighting up her face.
With her wonderful son-in-law right there, Lady Xu completely sidelined her own daughter.
After some small talk about health and work—as Song Chan expected—Lady Xu steered the conversation straight to the hot search.
Su Yicen answered patiently, but Song Chan had reached her limit after multiple rounds of questions and explanations.
Somewhat irritably, Song Chan spoke up. “Mom, I’ve told you—we can’t go public yet because of work…”
Xu Wan sharpened at that, her gentle eyes turning stern.
“Can’t you speak properly?”
As mother and daughter teetered on an argument, Su Yicen took Song Chan’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
He smiled apologetically at Xu Wan, clearly taking her side.
“Mom, sorry. It’s my fault, not Chanchan’s.”
“Because of my job, Chanchan and I can’t go public. She’s put up with a lot already—the pressure’s been huge.”
“Chanchan was just trying to speak up for me and lost her cool a bit. Please don’t be mad…”
Su Yicen’s words flowed warm and smooth as jade, every syllable clear and soothing.
It calmed Xu Wan considerably. She already doted on her daughter but was frustrated by her stubbornness.
Seeing how well the two kids got along filled her with genuine joy. But they weren’t young anymore—nearly thirty.
Xu Wan couldn’t resist nudging. “You two aren’t kids anymore.”
“So, when do you plan to have a kid?”