When Rong Qian stepped into the room, Shen Yi had already roused himself and was sitting up.

His brow was lightly furrowed — but the moment he caught sight of Rong Qian, it smoothed away. The corners of his mouth curved upward, and he offered her a quiet good morning.

“How are you feeling?”

Rong Qian walked over and pressed one hand to his forehead, then measured her own temperature with the other. After a brief comparison, she arrived at a conclusion. “You seem to have a low-grade fever.”

“It’s nothing — a bit of medicine will sort it out.” Shen Yi was unbothered, though thinking back to the night before, he gave a small, self-conscious cough and said with a touch of apology: “Last night — I hope I didn’t cause you too much trouble.”

“It wasn’t so bad. At least you didn’t go berserk. If you’d been shouting and carrying on, I would absolutely have knocked you out cold!” Rong Qian delivered this with complete seriousness and unwavering conviction.

Shen Yi relaxed into a smile, affecting an expression of exaggerated relief. “Well, thank goodness for that — I escaped without being beaten.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of chances in the future.” Rong Qian raised an eyebrow at him, smiling with entirely transparent mischief.

Shen Yi couldn’t help laughing. He looked at her — the curve of her brow, the light in her eyes — and everything in his gaze was gentle indulgence.

Not long after, Fu Bozhong came by. Sensing that the two of them had things to discuss, Rong Qian excused herself to go wash up.

Shen Yi caught her by the wrist. “A’Qian — you don’t have to step away on my account.”

If there was anyone in this world that Shen Yi would hold nothing back from, that person was Rong Qian and Rong Qian alone.

“I know,” she said, “and if it’s something important, you’ll naturally tell me afterward. But right now I’m genuinely starving, and I have a feeling the two of you are going to be talking for quite a while.” Even as she said it, Rong Qian understood that some things simply weren’t suited to be said with a third person present.

Besides, even if she stayed and listened, she likely wouldn’t follow much of it — it made more sense to wait and have Shen Yi explain it to her later.

Shen Yi felt the truth of that. He released her hand. “All right — I’ll fill you in afterward.”

Once Rong Qian had gone, Shen Yi’s gaze settled on Fu Bozhong — and he found Fu Bozhong beaming, eyes crinkled with a joy he couldn’t begin to conceal.

Shen Yi asked: “What are you smiling at?”

“The Young Master is happy, so I’m happy.” Fu Bozhong’s eyes curved into warm crescents.

Shen Yi said nothing. Was it really that obvious?

Fu Bozhong seemed to read his thoughts exactly, and said with great certainty: “Very obvious. There’s no hiding it at all!”

Fu Bozhong chuckled with genuine warmth — he was truly delighted for Shen Yi. Only when Miss Rong was by his side did he ever show the side of himself they so rarely got to see.

Shen Yi stayed quiet. His love for her was impossible to conceal — but equally impossible to say aloud.

After washing up, Rong Qian had just come downstairs to have breakfast when she saw Xu Mo hurrying in from outside, his footsteps quick and urgent. She asked him what was wrong.

Xu Mo said without a moment to spare: “Meng Yuxin is here — I need to go tell the boss!”

That the woman would show up at the door was no surprise to Rong Qian. As much as she was curious to get a look at this Meng Yuxin, since Shen Yi wanted her to keep out of sight, Rong Qian headed upstairs.

She had barely turned to go before Meng Yuxin stepped through the door right behind her.

Six years had left little change on this woman’s face. Her sense of style, however, had undergone a considerable transformation.

A form-fitting qipao, high heels, vivid red lips — every step she took carried a deliberate, languid allure. She had somehow managed to make the traditionally dignified qipao read as something altogether more provocative.

Behind Meng Yuxin trailed a young girl.

The girl wore the latest season Chanel set, carried an LV handbag, and was adorned from head to toe in designer labels. Her hair was styled in the fashionable Hong Kong-style wavy curls of the moment — polished and undeniably chic.

Whether judged by appearance, bearing, or looks, she was unmistakably the daughter of a wealthy family.

Rong Qian was deeply curious about what Meng Yuxin had come to say to Shen Yi, so rather than retreating to her room to hide, she stayed where she was.

Conveniently, the house had a rather complex layout. She found an out-of-the-way corner to tuck herself into — a spot where even if someone in the downstairs living room looked up, they wouldn’t be able to spot her.

After Xu Mo informed Shen Yi, it wasn’t long before Shen Yi came down the stairs, having changed into comfortable loungewear.

Meng Yuxin had already made herself at home on the sofa — as if the place belonged to her. Without a trace of hesitation, she was directing the housemaid to bring tea, completely at ease and making no effort to be polite about it.

The young girl looked up, caught sight of Shen Yi, and her eyes lit up instantly.

Perhaps in the interest of maintaining a composed and refined image, she exerted considerable effort to rein herself in and keep from dissolving into obvious adoration. Yet the moment she thought about this man one day becoming her husband, a secretly delighted smile crept onto her lips that she couldn’t entirely suppress.

“Young Master Shen’s airs are getting more and more grand, aren’t they — keeping me waiting outside with bodyguards blocking the door, then making me sit here for ages.” Meng Yuxin’s tone was laced with sharp sarcasm.

Shen Yi remained unmoved. His expression carried its usual refined composure, and yet beneath it lay a cool, impenetrable distance.

He sat down. His every movement carried a natural authority that made clear he was not to be encroached upon. Without saying a single word, one glance from him was enough to make Meng Yuxin sense she may have overstepped.

Meng Yuxin gave a quiet cough and smoothly shifted the subject.

She introduced the girl beside her to Shen Yi. “She is the daughter of the Yao Group — Yao Na. I brought her today to meet you.”

As she said this, Meng Yuxin gave Yao Na a meaningful look. Yao Na caught it immediately and quickly extended a hand toward Shen Yi, saying: “Shen Yi gege, hello — my name is Yao Na. You can call me Nana.”

Shen Yi glanced at her hand — a delicate hand sheathed in white lace gloves. He gave it a token shake and let go almost immediately.

Yao Na felt a small pang of regret. She had managed to hold his hand, technically — but with the glove still on, it was practically as if she hadn’t.

“I’m planning to have her stay here for a few days,” Meng Yuxin continued. “You did question me about why I sent people to install surveillance cameras, didn’t you? It was because of her.” Meng Yuxin laid out her reasoning with polished logic, redirecting the purpose of the surveillance cameras entirely onto Yao Na — framing it as a matter of ensuring the girl’s safety.

Up on the landing where she was eavesdropping, Rong Qian would have had to be quite dim indeed not to understand Meng Yuxin’s real intention by this point. The woman had obviously come to engineer an introduction — to thrust a woman into Shen Yi’s path.

Ha. So they’d resorted to using a woman to get a grip on him?

Did Meng Yuxin really think her Shen Yi was a soft persimmon anyone could squeeze at will?

“If safety is the concern, why go to all the trouble of installing surveillance cameras? Wouldn’t it be simpler for her not to come here at all? And in any case, I have no intention of letting her stay.”

Shen Yi spoke in his usual unhurried manner. On the surface it sounded perfectly civil — but his words carried an unmistakable edge.

“Shen Yi, she is a daughter of the Yao Family.” Meng Yuxin deliberately placed heavy emphasis on those two words — the Yao Family — as if reminding him just how significant this opportunity was, and warning him not to be ungrateful.

Xu Mo, for his part, could not have cared less whose daughter Yao Na was. Whatever her background, pushing women onto his boss was simply not acceptable.

So without a moment’s hesitation, he blurted out: “Mrs. Meng, regrettably, this house cannot hold two mistresses. My boss has already brought a certain young lady to stay here — she’s living right upstairs on the——”

“Xu Mo!” Shen Yi’s voice cut through like a whip crack.

Xu Mo flinched so hard he almost jumped out of his skin, then suddenly realized — had he just said something he absolutely should not have?

Up on the landing, Rong Qian pressed a hand to her temple with a weary sigh. Xu Mo, she thought — you really do have a remarkable gift for “talking.”