Chen Die suddenly recalled that day when she mentioned breaking up to Xia Ying, and Xia Ying had advised her that she thought her boyfriend treated her quite well, so there was no need to break up directly.

At that time, Chen Die had said she didn’t want to lose herself because of Wen Liang.

She had indeed changed too much for Wen Liang.

Wen Liang didn’t like girls who cried often, so gradually she stopped crying. Wen Liang liked girls with personalities, so without realizing when, she became more and more like him, yet only showed her coquettish and spoiled side in front of him.

But Wen Liang always remained the same in front of her.

Arrogant, cold, ruthless, moody.

When happy, he would occasionally say sweet things that made her heart want to leap out of her chest, but when angry, he simply wouldn’t care about her, as if there was no relationship between them.

When she was affected, Wen Liang would frown and scold her. When she deliberately angered him, Wen Liang would simply leave her alone to cool down.

Although many outsiders said that Wen Liang was very affectionate with his “darling” hidden at home, otherwise he wouldn’t have maintained this relationship for so many years. With so many beautiful women around, he had never shown favor to any other woman.

In the chaotic business circle, he could even be described as faithful.

But Chen Die knew it wasn’t like that.

In this relationship, Wen Liang was too casual and too arrogant.

Love was never about being casual.

The more uncontrollable and unbearable it was, the more it was love.

Like when Chen Die, in a moment of confusion, climbed into his bed that night.

But perhaps from the moment Chen Die nodded in response to his initial “Will you come with me?”, she had already become just a taken-for-granted accessory to Wen Liang.

He had possessiveness and protectiveness toward her, but it had nothing to do with love.

It was just that someone like him, a madman, simply couldn’t tolerate others touching what belonged to him.

Chen Die buried her head forcefully into the crook of her arm when suddenly she heard the police officer from earlier call out, “Chen Die!”

She looked up.

Wen Liang stood tall, bending over to sign a register.

Then he straightened up, glanced at Chen Die without expression, and quickly walked out the door.

Chen Die picked up her bag and walked out.

Wen Liang was standing on the steps, a cigarette between his lips, his hand cupped around it as he lit it.

Pale blue smoke rose from between his brows, appearing and disappearing. He exhaled a breath of smoke and turned to look at Chen Die.

His half-closed black eyelashes filtered the dim yellow light coming from above.

“Hungry?” he asked flatly.

Chen Die’s nose suddenly stung.

All those jumbled thoughts from earlier when she was slumped over the table, wanting to break up with him regardless of consequences, all dissipated in this one mundane question filled with the warmth of everyday life—”Hungry?”

How pathetic of her.

She nodded instinctively, “Mm.”

“Let’s go eat dinner.”

After speaking, he removed the cigarette, held it between his fingers, and walked down the steps one by one.

The journey was quiet.

The car drove down a small road, and Wen Liang suddenly spoke, “Stop here.”

Zhu Qitong looked around, seeing no restaurant at all, and hesitated, “Here?”

“Yes.”

Zhu Qitong parked the car by the roadside.

Chen Die got out and surveyed the surroundings. Her heart suddenly gave two heavy thumps.

This place…

Wen Liang wore a shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, an elegant watch on his left wrist, shirt tucked into his waistband, his figure relaxed and distinguished—completely at odds with the shabby little restaurant across the street.

He strode over, lifted the rolling shutter, and walked in.

Chen Die quickly followed.

How much did she like Wen Liang?

Probably enough that when Wen Liang brought her to this place—the restaurant he first took her to on her first day in this city, the first day she met him—it instantly made her throw all grievances and heartaches completely out of her mind.

“Why are we eating here?” Chen Die asked, sitting beside him.

“Forgotten?” Wen Liang glanced at her, then looked back at the menu. “The first place I brought you to eat.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

Chen Die pressed her lips firmly together, leaned forward to look at the menu, and quickly ordered four dishes.

After ordering, she forcefully suppressed the smile that was about to spread across her face and said, “These are the dishes we ate that time.”

The smile was suppressed on her lips but escaped through her eyes.

She had a pair of beautiful eyes, bright and alluring. Now her pupils were shining brightly. Even in this run-down little shop, she seemed surrounded by a halo of light.

Wen Liang looked at her a while longer.

That bit of anger had somehow disappeared.

He leaned back, resting against the chair back, turning his head to look at her, then raised his hand and pinched her cheek, pulling it outward.

“Little girl,” he said languidly.

Chen Die was startled.

She couldn’t remember when Wen Liang had last called her that.

Probably when she was still in high school.

After the college entrance exam, when Chen Die climbed into his bed and their relationship became ambiguous, Wen Liang seemed to have stopped calling her that.

Chen Die blinked, “Hmm?”

He pinched her face again, “You’ve been quite mischievous lately.”

“…”

Chen Die couldn’t react for a moment, so she just explained, “I already told you, Fang Jiamao is my high school classmate. Today there was a class reunion, and I had nothing to do so I went. Ending up at the police station was completely accidental, as you well know.”

To this, Wen Liang’s only response was a light snort.

“…?”

Wait! Why was she nervously explaining herself to him when she had a clear conscience?!

Chen Die quickly realized and turned to mock him, “You were with a beauty yourself!”

“That can be called a beauty?” Wen Liang raised an eyebrow.

“…”

Wen Liang said carelessly, “She was just a female companion for an event since you weren’t willing to go with me.”

Soon, the restaurant owner’s wife brought over four steaming dishes—two meat dishes, one vegetable, and one soup. The most ordinary home-cooked food, prepared in the simplest way, with a thin layer of oil floating on top.

From the attire of these two people, the owner’s wife knew they were either rich or noble, appearing in her small restaurant. She inevitably felt constrained, afraid of offending them through neglect.

“These are all homemade dishes, and the vegetables were grown in our backyard,” the owner’s wife wiped her hands on her apron and said nervously. “Try them and see if they suit your taste.”

Wen Liang pulled out a pair of chopsticks from the rack nearby for Chen Die and politely thanked the owner’s wife.

Wen Liang was very quiet when eating, and not fond of talking.

His day had been busy—attending an event in the morning, and returning to the company to deal with Qu Huan’s matter. Though he appeared confident, he had been preparing for a long time.

He hadn’t even eaten dinner and was feeling truly exhausted now.

Chen Die had already eaten dinner and, after four years of being tormented by her acting major, had an instinctive aversion to late-night snacks.

She put down her chopsticks after just a few bites.

The restaurant owner’s wife came back after taking out the trash and, seeing that she wasn’t eating, cautiously asked, “Is the food not to your liking?”

“No, that’s not it,” Chen Die waved her hand and politely smiled at her. “I’m just afraid of gaining weight. The food is very delicious.”

The woman made a couple of acknowledging sounds, picked up her playing child, and walked back to the kitchen.

Wen Liang commented, “Who was it that said they were hungry earlier? And now you’ve eaten so little.”

Chen Die, recalling how she had almost been moved to tears by Wen Liang’s casual “Hungry?” earlier, felt embarrassed. She pretended not to hear and lowered her head to open her phone.

Just as she opened it, Wen Liang snatched it away. His large hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto his lap, “Keep me company while I eat.”

“I’m full.”

“Then watch me eat,” Wen Liang said matter-of-factly.

“???”

Chen Die felt like three question marks had appeared above her head, along with the thought: What’s wrong with you?

However, watching Wen Liang eat was quite appetizing. He took large bites, unlike some young masters who ate elegantly.

After finishing a bowl of rice like a whirlwind and taking a couple of sips of soup, he got up to pay.

They walked out of the restaurant.

Parking was prohibited on this side of the road, so Zhu Qitong parked the car across the street.

Chen Die and Wen Liang stood at the zebra crossing. The light on the opposite side was red.

It was already very late. With no entertainment venues nearby, the night was extremely quiet, and even the cars passing on the road were few.

Chen Die’s little thoughts gradually drifted away.

She lowered her head to look at Wen Liang’s hand hanging by his side, then noticed from the corner of her eye that her white sneaker’s shoelace had come undone.

Chen Die squatted down.

Wen Liang looked down. She was wearing denim shorts today, and when she squatted, the edges rode up a bit, revealing slender, fair legs that were somewhat eye-catching.

The street light shone down, making her skin look like jade.

He frowned slightly.

Just as Chen Die was about to tie her shoelace, she was lifted by the shoulders and moved a few steps to the side. Then Wen Liang squatted down in front of her and lifted her leg.

Chen Die lost her balance, her body falling backward, and she landed on a park bench.

Wen Liang lowered his head, his long fingers wrapping around her shoelace, quickly tying it.

Chen Die’s heart pounded. She blinked, her ankle held in his hand, his fingertips warm and a bit rough.

She unconsciously tried to withdraw her leg, but Wen Liang pulled it back.

He looked up, his eyes pitch black, the scar at the corner of his eyebrow making him look even more fierce.

“Wen Liang?” Chen Die called out to him.

“If you go out with those damn friends of yours and end up at the police station again—” he suddenly smiled, looking roguish, “see if I’ll still come rescue you.”

“…”

Wen Liang released her ankle and turned back to the zebra crossing.

The light had changed from red to green, and then back to red again.

Chen Die felt like the ankle he had grabbed was burning, and her heart was beating fast and heavy.

She walked back to his side.

Those deeply buried feelings were like bubbles in a carbonated drink, continuously rising to the surface.

“Wen Liang.”

“Hmm?”

She took a deep breath, “Do you like me?”

A sports car with a jarring engine sound sped past on the road.

Chen Die’s hair was blown upward, and that light, fleeting question was drowned in the noise.

Wen Liang hadn’t heard clearly, “What?”

Courage is precious and rarely enough for more than one attempt.

Having asked the question, she was now clearheaded. Her pride and self-respect resurfaced. Someone like Wen Liang probably didn’t even know what it meant to like someone.

She shook her head, “Nothing.”