Chapter 36

In the office, the mirror of the glass cabinet reflected the red stain on Shen Hanyang's shirt.

That person always left a kiss mark on his white shirt; it was an unequal treaty she unilaterally imposed, a high-profile symbol of her assertion of sovereignty.

Shen Hanyang was glad he had the foresight to prepare two new shirts in his office beforehand. He changed into the new shirt, glanced at the one he had taken off, and saw that the hickeys on it were like a stroke of cursive script, unrestrained and free, a true reflection of its owner's personality.

Since that person returned to the country and they reunited "on official business," things began to spiral out of control. Originally, Shen Hanyang didn't want any extra contact with that person outside of work. But she acted as if nothing had happened, sending messages from time to time, still using the old habit of talking about life, ideals, and their regrets. He knew she was using the same old trick, reheating the stale water and boiling him like a frog.

Later, her invitations became more and more frequent, to the point that she asked to meet or video chat almost every day.

He went to the appointment a few times and accepted the video call twice, but most of the time he pretended not to see it.

On my phone, that person sent me another message.

It had been less than ten hours since they last met.

The person on the other end said, "I have a fever."

Shen Hanyang stared at those three words for a while, then turned off the screen, picked up his car keys, and went downstairs.

When Shen Hanyang arrived at the special needs ward of the First Hospital of S City, the three helpers he had sent were efficiently helping Qiao Yi pack his luggage. It seemed that Qiao Yi had brought all his belongings, including not only necessities such as clothes and medicine, but also a laptop, monitor, stationery, and a large stack of books.

Qiao Yi wanted to help tidy up, but couldn't get a word in edgewise. He could only repeat, extremely apologetically, "You're troubling me too much. I can do it myself. You're troubling me too much..."

Looking up, Qiao Yi saw Shen Hanyang enter from outside. He awkwardly rubbed his hands together. This kind of comprehensive and attentive service was something he had never experienced before, and he felt somewhat uncomfortable. He wasn't good at small talk, but it seemed inappropriate not to say anything. After hesitating for a while, he finally managed to say, "Thanks to President Shen."

Shen Hanyang smiled and said, "You're welcome. Yan Qing is a key member of our project team. This humanitarian care is only right so that she can devote herself fully to her work."

Shen Hanyang, though smooth-talking and diplomatic, suddenly felt uncertain about his decision to hastily bring Qiao Yi over without Yan Qing's consent. Yan Qing, when not interacting with anyone, seemed gentle and harmless. She often dressed simply, spoke softly, as if reluctant to reveal her presence. Her occasional pensive glances always reminded one of clouds in the sky—silent, untouchable. Sometimes she was like cotton, impossible to fathom. But suddenly, at some moment, her hidden emotions would sprout thorns, piercing you defenselessly. Shen Hanyang didn't consider this contradictory temperament as unpredictable. He preferred to define it as emotional instability. After all, she was still a naive student, unable to control her temper.

He was certain that when she arrived, she would unleash a torrent of discordant emotions.

Just then, Yan Qing appeared at the door. As soon as she entered, she looked around curiously: "This is the legendary special needs ward? It looks like a hotel."

Qiao Yi, sounding quite impressed, exclaimed, "Right? It's even bigger than our house!"

Yan Qing smiled and nodded at Shen Hanyang on the sofa: "President Shen."

Shen Hanyang watched as she took out three large white peaches and a bottle of loquat syrup from her canvas bag: "I'll wash the peaches for you to eat later." She was speaking to Qiao Yi.

Shen Hanyang peered at her from the side, but found no trace of anger or reproach on her face.

Perhaps she could only suppress her anger in front of Qiao Yi, and the pent-up storm would only erupt when Qiao Yi was no longer present. He could guess what she was going to say: "untrustworthy," "fickle," "relentless harassment"—these words would be indispensable.

With a clatter of wheels, a nurse pushed in a medical cart and helped Qiao Yi change into a hospital gown and put on a wristband.

Yan Qing lowered her head and left.

Shen Hanyang then got up and followed him out.

As soon as she stepped out of the ward, her mother He Xuanxin's name lit up on her phone screen with the ringtone.

He glanced at the time and decided to strike first.

"What's wrong, Mom? Why are you calling at this hour? Shouldn't you be having a party with your boyfriend? Did you break up?"

Having her private matters exposed right away, He Xuanxin, feeling humiliated, angrily cursed, "Get out of here! I can do whatever I want! You're trying to control everything, especially me!"

Shen Hanyang twitched the corner of his mouth and said, "I'm worried about you. It's cute to have one little wolfhound, but having too many is not only troublesome and tiring, but also dangerous."

He Xuanxin: "I have my own plans." Suddenly realizing she had been led astray, she immediately returned to the main topic: "I haven't interrogated you yet. What have you been up to lately, acting so suspiciously? You haven't gotten together with Ren Ruiyun again, have you?"

He Xuanxin's sharp and incisive language gave Shen Hanyang a headache. He pinched his brow hard and said, "What do you mean by 'flirting'? Can you be a little more civilized?"

"Civilization can't put food on the table. Don't try to change the subject. You can't fool me. Even though we're separated by the Pacific Ocean, don't forget the bond between mother and child. I can feel your presence."

What kind of aura do I have?

He Xuanxin described it in what she considered to be very precise language: "She exuded an aura of courtship from head to toe."

Shen Hanyang chuckled silently.

He Xuanxin dropped her joking tone and emphasized sternly, "I'm warning you, it can be anyone, but it absolutely cannot be Ren Ruiyun, or you can expect me to have a huge fight with you. You know your mother is not someone to be trifled with!"

After a long silence, Shen Hanyang calmly said, "It's not her. We have no other connection besides that incident."

He Xuanxin immediately seized on the flaw in his words: "Not her? Then there really is a mysterious girl other than Ren Ruiyun? Who is she?"

"No, there's no mysterious girl at all."

"Trying to fool me, huh? You got away with it last time, and I hung up before I even understood. This time you have to explain yourself! All this evasion must mean something's up!"

Shen Hanyang sighed silently: "Alright, if you really want to say there is, OK, Jiaming's math tutor. How about that, are you satisfied now?"

He Xuanxin was shocked: "Another tutor? That tutor who taught Cheng Jiaming art last time, Zhang... Zhang Jing, she caused such a ruckus in your house, haven't you learned your lesson?"

Shen Hanyang felt that this name had been frequently mentioned in his ears lately, making his eardrums hurt: "Zhang Linjing and Yan Qing are completely different people. I have only seen Zhang Linjing no more than three times since she came to my house to teach. I don't know where she got the obsession that she had to have something happen between us."

"So, what's going on between you and this math teacher?" He Xuanxin asked pointedly.

Shen Hanyang paused slightly: "It doesn't matter, the main thing is that Jiaming likes her. Everything I did was for Jiaming."

He Xuanxin chuckled dryly twice, a laugh she often used to express her contempt: "Jiaming, Jiaming, all you ever talk about is this son you picked up for free. You're addicted to being a cheap dad. Even the Virgin Mary would have to give way to you."

Shen Hanyang had no desire to continue the conversation, and the phone call ended rather unpleasantly. Turning around, he saw Yan Qing standing not far away, holding two freshly washed peaches.

He wasn't sure when she stood there, nor was he sure if his conversation with He Xuanxin had been overheard.

Yan Qing walked over and handed Shen Hanyang a peach: "Mr. Shen, would you like a peach?"

The expected anger did not materialize; on the contrary, Yan Qing's attitude towards him was much gentler than before.

He scrutinized her for a while, his tone and expression normal, his clear and transparent smile revealing nothing amiss.

He took the peach, took a bite, and said, "It's quite sweet."

Qiao Yi was taken to have an MRI, leaving only Shen Hanyang and Yan Qing in the ward.

This time, Yan Qing took the initiative to start the conversation.

Is your stomach feeling better?

"Yeah, it's an old problem. I just take medicine when it hurts. It's nothing serious."

"Stomach problems are 30% treated with medicine and 70% with proper care. My classmate's mother had gastritis for over ten years, and she ate five steamed red dates and 100g of steamed yam every day, which was very effective..." Yan Qing began to share some of her experiences, and at the end, she said with great understanding, "But you must have a lot of social engagements, eating greasy food and drinking alcohol... It must be really tough for you."

Yan Qing's understanding puzzled Shen Hanyang. Although they had reconciled on the phone the day before, the speed and thoroughness of her change still exceeded his expectations. He had silently observed her more than once while she was speaking, but her eyes always carried genuine concern, without any trace of pretense or perfunctoriness.

Finally, she thanked Shen Hanyang again for his generosity and promised to do her best for the project and live up to his trust.

Deep affection? What kind of affection was that? He was increasingly confused. Shouldn't she be most averse to mentioning that word to him?

After settling Qiao Yi in, Shen Hanyang knocked on the door of room 1305 at the Peninsula Hotel.

Ren Ruiyun was completely wrapped in a long bathrobe, with only her snow-white deep V-neck showing at the neckline.

“You have a room key,” she said, her obvious nasal congestion and the fever-reducing patch on her forehead corroborating that she was not faking illness.

Shen Hanyang, dressed in long sleeves and trousers, was still chilled to the bone by the cold air conditioning in the room. He glanced at the air conditioner temperature and frowned: "You have a fever and you still set it so low?"

He casually tossed aside his suit jacket, and the next thing he saw on the table was the opened EVE capsules. The furrows between Shen Hanyang's brows deepened: "You have a fever, so you're taking painkillers?"

"Feel if I'm hot." Ren Ruiyun leaned closer, her forehead touching his chin, the silk robe wafting a rich rose scent.

Just as the two were about to become intimate, Shen Hanyang held her at a delicate distance.

"I'll go buy you some medicine," he said.

"No." Ren Ruiyun's willfulness was charming and alluring.

"Painkillers are not the right medicine and cannot cure a cold," Shen Hanyang said.

Seeing his resolute attitude, Ren Ruiyun loosened her grip, her outer robe slipping off her shoulders, her lace slip dress symbolically covering a few key areas. With a slight movement, her breasts were almost spilling out.

"If you dare to leave, I'll just keep this air conditioning on."

"Stop fooling around."

"I want you to hold me." Ren Ruiyun, her body soft and weak, leaned into his arms.

He grabbed her arms, the soft, delicate skin melting in his palms. His eyes darkened, and he leaned in towards the door. She was pulled backward in his arms until her back pressed against the wall.

Leaning against the wall, she lowered her eyes, panting softly, as if nervous or expectant.

Shen Hanyang reached out and gently pressed a button, and the hum of the air conditioner disappeared.

The room was completely silent, like a vacuum.

Just as he was about to leave, Ren Ruiyun cupped his face in her hands and said, "Hanyang, I want you."

"I want it," were the two words he was most powerless to resist. Back then, all she had to do was say those two words to him, and he would give his young body without reservation, satisfying her without reservation. Whenever she looked at him sleeping exhausted beside her, stroking his fluffy hair, his thick, curled eyelashes, and his sweat-drenched, engorged muscles, Ren Ruiyun felt as if she had a most loyal believer, a believer who willingly offered himself up, and this brought her pleasure.

Sure enough, Shen Hanyang hesitated for only a moment before he picked her up with overwhelming force and carried her to the bed in two quick steps.

However, he simply tucked the blanket around her and said in a hoarse voice, "I'll go buy medicine."

Her red-painted nails gently brushed against his cheek: "Stay with me tonight."

Shen Hanyang nodded so slightly that it was almost imperceptible: "Mm."