When she returned to Haiyan, she found that Fu Siming hadn't come back, so she casually asked, "Aunt Qi, where...where is Fu Siming?"
Aunt Qi replied respectfully, "Miss Song, the young master has returned to the old house."
"Oh..." she said lazily, her tone revealing neither disappointment nor anything else.
Why do I feel a little disappointed when I hear that Fu Siming isn't home?
I've never seen myself so dependent on others before!
She quickly finished eating and returned to her room. Once there, she took out the first draft of the plan she had prepared that day and started drawing and marking it. After looking at it for a while, she felt that her attention was constantly focused on the commotion downstairs.
Haiyan's room is so well soundproofed, you can't hear a sound at all.
She deliberately opened the door a crack, but as soon as she did, she couldn't help but curse herself, "Song Xingyao, ahhhhh what's wrong with you? Why are you having such expectations?"
Finally, Song Xingyao deliberately described this strange phenomenon that happened to her as a sense of security, a sense of security that required her to be aware of the situation downstairs at all times.
It's definitely not because I'm looking forward to Fu Siming's return.
Yes! That must be it.
Finding it difficult to concentrate, Song Xingyao tossed the plan aside, went to the bathroom to wash up, and after coming out, stared at the ceiling and fell asleep without realizing it.
Fu Siming returned from the old house very late. Qi Ma took his clothes and casually said something.
"Madam didn't seem very happy today. She went upstairs early after dinner, and I don't know why."
After listening, Fu Siming went upstairs without stopping.
The door, which was usually locked, opened easily today with a gentle push, causing Fu Siming to pause for a moment.
As soon as I stepped inside, the person that Qi Ma had mentioned earlier, who was not very happy, was already fast asleep, with a few pages of documents scattered around him.
He picked it up, looked at it twice, then tidied it up and placed it on the bedside table.
He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the woman's face for a long time.
She then recalled how she had coaxed Fu Xunzhi to sleep earlier. The two were completely different; Fu Xunzhi slept very well and didn't move around much.
On the contrary, the mother herself seemed quite disheveled, with half of the blanket already on the floor.
He was still muttering to himself.
He moved closer and heard the woman calling his name in her sleep, "Fu Siming...you...you scoundrel..."
He thought to himself, "My vocabulary for insults is still so limited."
After taking a shower in the master bedroom, he quietly lifted the covers and lay down next to her.
Song Xingyao felt the cold touch of the man beside her.
She unconsciously snuggled closer to him.
Fu Siming took the opportunity to stop her and held her in his arms.
Jiang Man had originally thought that since it was so late, she might as well let him stay at the old house, but she refused.
Because no one knows that she can only fall asleep better when Song Xingyao is in her arms.
Jiang Man still remembers being speechless with astonishment when she took Fu Xunzhi to the temple on Beishan Mountain for the second time.
After all, his son was a super materialist who had taken Fu Xun up the mountain and donated a large sum of money to rebuild the main structure of the temple.
Jiang Man thought he was possessed by an evil spirit...
Later, when Fu Xunzhi refused to speak, she went up to beg him once, and only then did she realize that Fu Siming's obsession with Song Xingyao had become so deep that a man who did not believe in gods and Buddhas knelt down and begged all the gods and Buddhas to let her come back.
Birds chirped outside the window. When Song Xingyao opened her eyes, she saw the man's face magnified in front of her.
My sense of vigilance is so poor that I didn't even realize he was in my bed.
A warm feeling welled up inside me, but I didn't struggle to get up.
She pulled her hand out from under the covers, tracing the sharp ends of her eyebrows, down her cheeks, and stopping at her thin lips.
The man's eyelids twitched.
I quickly closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.
Fu Siming slightly opened his eyes and noticed that the woman in front of him was trembling with her eyelashes, so he knew that she was pretending to be asleep.
"Cute," he thought, and then his large, thick hand mimicked her movements, moving down her arm and waist before stopping at her hip.
Her face was already tinged with a peach pink.
Using the act of turning around, Song Xingyao pretended to wake up.
What are you doing in my room?
A familiar conversation.
As a result, Fu Siming shamelessly said, "Here, let's not be so clear about who's in our rooms."
"Nonsense! I need to get up! You're a CEO, and you get up later than me every day. I don't know how you make money!" He said to him in front of him.
The latter, however, smiled brightly, propping himself up on one arm as he watched her feigned busyness. "What's wrong? You're already worried about my money? Want to become the mistress of this place as soon as possible?"
She finally understood Fu Siming's unique and thuggish logic. "I'm not talking to you!"
He grabbed a piece of clothing from the closet and slammed the door shut, locking himself in the bathroom.
When she came out again, she found that Fu Siming was no longer in the room.
Song Xingyao looked in the mirror, holding the zipper that was stuck in her hair... What bad luck!
After changing his clothes, Fu Siming walked in and saw her angrily clutching the zipper at the back of her dress, muttering, "You weren't here when you should have. Humph!"
The next second, Fu Siming's hand covered her neck, gently swatting her hand away.
"Let go. You're putting your clothes on, why are you getting so worked up?"
She saw the man in the mirror, his nimble fingers helping her untie the stuck zipper, his smile still lingering on his face.
His intimate gestures caused his rough fingers to occasionally grope the tender flesh of his neck, and some inappropriate images flashed through his mind.
"Okay." He quickly unbuttoned her clothes and stroked her hair like he was petting a small animal.
Her once flowing long hair is now only shoulder-length. I stared at her face in a daze, and the next second I saw her blushing face.
She blurted out, "You still blush so easily."
Song Xingyao was stunned by his words, and the blush on her face vanished instantly.
Her sudden, wandering gaze and inexplicably nostalgic words made her feel as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her heart.
In the ensuing silence, the atmosphere between the two suddenly became strange.
After the meal, Fu Siming didn't let Lao Xu drive her as usual, but instead took her to the hospital himself.
The two, who were originally intimate and natural, suddenly became somewhat strange, each harboring their own thoughts.
Song Xingyao's lips parted slightly, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words that were on the tip of her tongue.
Watching the car drive away, she finally murmured the words she hadn't said earlier, "Who exactly were you looking at?"
Although she learned from Fu Siming and Su Li that the two seemed to have a past, after she parted ways with Su Li that day, no matter how hard she searched, she couldn't find any clues about Fu Siming and his wife.
For someone of his status, marriage is certainly not a secret; how could there be no information about it?
Having firmly made up his mind about this idea, coupled with Fu Siming's occasional nostalgic glances and natural actions, he felt a strong connection to the idea.
It's like doing it to another person a thousand times over.
I felt really bad.
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