A strange emotion flickered in Hu Moli's eyes as she rubbed her fingers around the teacup. "Didn't you just meet Miss Xu today?"

"Yes, I saw her. She didn't seem to be in a good state. Go and find out if she knows anything about Cheng Muyun."

Hu Moli covered her mouth in surprise, her alluring fox-like eyes revealing disbelief. "This matter has caused such a big commotion, and Miss Xu didn't know anything about it? How well did Young Marshal Cheng keep it a secret?"

Chen Hede frowned. "I'm not sure if she really doesn't know or is pretending not to know. She's acting very strangely. If she doesn't know, go and find out why she's in a bad mood."

Hu Moli picked up the freshly filled teacup, her fingertips twirling the small handle, and took a small sip.

The moment the tea touched her tongue, her face contorted in pain, her brows furrowing into a knot, and her voice carrying a hint of grievance: "This tea is so bitter! Ugh, it's so bitter it makes my heart tremble."

Hearing this, Chen Hede raised an eyebrow, turned his gaze from the window to her exaggerated face, and teased her knowingly, "Stop pretending here. You drank that big glass faster than anyone else just now. Why didn't you say it was bitter then?"

Hu Moli wasn't annoyed when she was exposed. Instead, she giggled, her eyes curving into two crescent moons. Her charming gaze was truly captivating—no wonder the men outside often couldn't take their eyes off her.

She laughed for a while, but then realized that Chen Hede across from her had already looked away and returned his gaze to the street scene outside the window, as if the shouts of the street vendors downstairs were more interesting than her face.

Hu Moli's smile faded slightly, and her fingers tightened around the teacup.

This man is sitting right in front of me, but it always feels like there's something between us.

No matter how bright her smile was, he never wanted to look properly into her eyes.

"Okay, I understand. I'll pay a visit later."

Chen Hede nodded. "Okay."

The two cups of tea were finished in silence, and Hu Moli's gaze unconsciously lingered on Chen Hede's face.

His lips were so pale they were almost transparent, yet the lip line was drawn so delicately that the small, delicate cupid's bow, like a flower bud glistening with morning dew, was so captivating despite its lack of earthy charm.

But even the most beautiful lips can't compare to the cold indifference in those phoenix eyes.

Those eyes always seemed to be covered by a thin layer of ice, passing over no one and never stopping, only when they landed on Xu Zhuohua would they reveal even a trace of warmth.

Normally, Chen Hede's eyes are dull and unfathomable, like two silent ancient wells. Anyone who looks into them will be startled, fearing that they will be sucked into that abyss.

But Hu Moli had seen an exception—once she saw him following behind Xu Zhuohua from afar, the sunlight slanting across his profile, and his eyes were filled with tiny, shimmering lights, like luminous pearls hidden in the darkness, not dazzling, but bright enough to reflect Xu Zhuohua's shadow.

The light shone only in a corner unnoticed by anyone, with a dim stubbornness, quiet and still, yet exuding a firmness that no one could shake.

Hu Moli picked up her teacup, using it to shield her slightly somber gaze.

This tea is truly bitter.

Hu Moli had thought that if it weren't Xu Zhuohua, she would definitely be driven crazy by jealousy if it were any other woman, but it just so happened to be Xu Zhuohua.

Xu Zhuohua had warmed her like a little sun. Hu Moli felt admiration, gratitude, and envy for Xu Zhuohua, so she couldn't hate him.

"Master." Hu Moli's voice was very soft, like a feather scattered by the wind, with a slight tremor.

Chen Hede turned his gaze away from the window and frowned slightly when it landed on her face.

The girlish charm she had just displayed had vanished, replaced by an overwhelming sorrow that weighed heavily on her eyes, like cotton wool soaked in water.

"Hmm? What's wrong?"

As soon as she finished speaking, Hu Moli suddenly stood up.

The hem of her plain white cheongsam swept across the tea stool, creating a gust of wind. She walked a few steps to Chen Hede's side, bent down, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and back, her movements so fast that no one could react in time.

As my cheek pressed against his neatly pressed shirt, the crisp scent of soap mixed with a faint tobacco aroma instantly filled my nostrils.

Hu Moli buried her face even deeper, like a dying traveler in the desert craving the last sip of sweet spring water, greedily sucking in this breath, wishing it could be engraved into her bones and blood, becoming a testament to her future memories.

Chen Hede froze, clearly not expecting her to do such a thing.

His hand, which he had raised subconsciously, remained suspended in mid-air, his fingertips barely an inch from her shoulder, yet he hesitated to bring it down.

The moment the thought of refusing crossed her mind, the arms around her waist tightened even more, as if afraid he would run away.

"Master, this is a new style of etiquette." Her voice was muffled in his arms, with a vague explanation, but the end of her voice trembled, unable to hide the vulnerability of a desperate gamble.

Chen Hede's hand remained suspended in the air.

Her fingertips froze in the air for a moment before slowly falling to her side, letting that warm body lean against her chest, like embracing a snowflake that might melt at any moment.

After a long while, Hu Moli slowly let go of Chen Hede's hand and stepped back from his embrace, but her slender fingers still rested on his shoulder and did not immediately withdraw.

She looked up at him, her eyes like pools of spring water, rippling gently, overflowing with affection so deep it seemed there was an unspeakable depth of feeling hidden within those shimmering depths.

"Sir, has anyone ever said that your eyes are beautiful?" Her voice softened further, like a feather gently brushing against the heart.

Chen Hede's lips moved, as if he was considering something, and after a moment he uttered two words, his voice as low as a wet cotton thread: "No."

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