Chapter 58: Initiative

After their meal, the two decided to take a ride on a small boat.

It was the simplest wooden vessel, propelled by the most primitive oars. A gaunt old man, wearing a conical straw hat, rowed with all his might.

He grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellowed teeth, his laughter hearty and bright. “Newlyweds, are you? Here for your honeymoon?”

Shen Huaijing always felt an inexplicable warmth toward people like him, never putting on airs. Her lips curved into a lovely smile, dimples appearing at the corners.

“You could say that. Grandpa, how many years have you been rowing boats here?”

The old man’s face wrinkled with his smile, his thin arms seemingly inexhaustible. He gazed into the distance and spoke slowly, “It’s been thirty or forty years. In the past, boats were the best means of transport here. I was quite the expert at rowing.” Pride filled his voice as he reminisced about the days of his youth.

“With technology advancing so fast, the town doesn’t need boats anymore. But I was born and raised on the water—how could I bear to give it up? Fortunately, tourism has developed these past two years, and these old bones are finally useful again.” His tone was tinged with regret, his gaze drifting toward the horizon.

The boat glided along the river, threading its way between two mountains.

Suddenly, the view opened up. Shen Huaijing hadn’t expected a secret paradise to be hidden behind this small town.

Looking into the distance, she saw rolling mountains, layer upon layer, and dense, lush forests. White clouds drifted lazily across the sky, while the placid, mirror-like water perfectly reflected blue sky and clouds. The breeze stirred delicate ripples, the water shimmering dreamily.

The old man set down his oar, sitting at the stern with his pipe, thin wisps of smoke rising slowly.

Shen Huaijing propped her hands on the edge of the boat, gazing at the scenery in awe. “Fu Chen, how did you find a place like this?”

Fu Chen sat lazily with his legs crossed, eyes squinting. “Uncle Liu told me.”

She wondered at this. When she’d visited the Fu family’s old residence, Fu Chen had treated the household staff poorly. What had changed?

She tucked her hair behind her ear, frowning slightly. “Didn’t you say you don’t need to show kindness to servants?”

“Feng Ma and Uncle Liu are different.” Fu Chen looked steadily at the distant mountains, his voice light as air.

Shen Huaijing suddenly recalled Feng Ma’s advice during their period of sleeping in separate rooms. It seemed Feng Ma and Uncle Liu knew Fu Chen’s story—perhaps they’d been by his side ever since he returned to the Fu family.

She looked at Fu Chen, her eyes bright as autumn water, sparkling in the sunlight.

“Fu Chen, do you remember what you said when you were drunk that day?”

This was the first time Shen Huaijing broached the topic seriously; before, it had always been in jest.

“What did I say?” Fu Chen was unconcerned, his expression calm.

Shen Huaijing hesitated, then half-smiled. “You said you’re the Fu family’s illegitimate son.”

Fu Chen’s pupils darkened suddenly, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. He glanced at her, then smiled, “Did I? And what’s your plan?”

His lack of surprise unsettled her—she hadn’t expected Fu Chen to be so candid, as if everything was within his grasp.

He easily turned the question back on her, and she found herself at a loss. She’d thought she could seize some leverage over him, but now it seemed she was too naïve; everything was in Fu Chen’s control.

Her face bloomed with a radiant smile, “What plans could I have? No matter what, you’re my husband. That won’t change.” She chose to play the fool.

Fu Chen’s hand brushed her cheek. The woman before him smiled gently, the joy lingering at the corners of her eyes and lips. With such a delicate, beautiful face, who could bear to let go?

“Aren’t you afraid I have nothing?”

“As long as we’re alive, there’s always time, always a chance, isn’t there?” Her cool hand covered his, those pure, glass-like brown eyes reflecting the shimmering water, tinged with tenderness.

Fu Chen pressed a gentle kiss to her eyes, his seductive voice sounding above her head.

“Do you know your eyes can bewitch souls?”

“Did they bewitch you?”

“Mm.”

Fu Chen cupped her face, gazing at her in silence, as if wanting to memorize every hair, every pore.

“The time’s about up, we should head back!” the old man shouted from the stern.

After dinner, the two returned to the guesthouse as night had fallen.

Both had showered. Fu Chen sat on the bed reviewing company reports, while Shen Huaijing dried her damp hair, droplets falling onto the soft carpet.

She hurriedly turned on the hair dryer, carefully blowing her hair. At some point, Fu Chen walked up behind her.

He took the dryer, his slender fingers threading through her black hair, gently drying it. His technique was perfect, neither too hot nor too cold, and Shen Huaijing felt so comfortable she nearly fell asleep. Soon, her hair was dry.

“You must be tired—let’s sleep.”

Fu Chen led her to the bed, pulling her into his arms, his steady breathing sounding at her ear.

But she felt no drowsiness at all. Staring at the ceiling, she drifted into a daze.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Mm. I keep feeling that all of this isn’t real.” She sighed. Everything today felt like a dream, ethereal and unreal, as if she were floating on clouds, ready to fall at any moment.

“You always overthink.”

“Fu Chen, do you know? Today was the happiest day of my life.” As she spoke, her eyes reddened, a sour ache swelling in her chest.

“Especially when you carried me today—I felt like I’d gone back to before…”

Her words grew faint, tears rolling down her cheeks like strings of pearls, reaching the corners of her lips.

Bitter and sour.

Fu Chen took a tissue from the bedside, wiping her tears.

In the dark room, only a sliver of light seeped through the curtains. Through the haze, Shen Huaijing saw Fu Chen’s deep eyes, veiled in mist, distant and enigmatic.

“If you’re happy, how can you cry?”

Fu Chen gently played with her hair, patiently soothing her.

Her mind went blank; she wanted nothing more. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she lifted her face and pressed her soft lips to his, like a traveler in a desert stumbling upon an oasis, hastening the kiss with urgency.

Fu Chen felt her cool lips, a trace of shock flashing in his eyes. It was the first time she’d initiated a kiss—so passionate, so heartfelt.