Chapter 17 (Revised)

“Are you just tired from the wedding? I’ve noticed you haven’t been yourself lately.” Especially today.

Wen Jingyi didn’t voice the last thought.

Back home, preparing for the wedding, the most exhausting tasks for Wen Jingyi were the makeup trials and wedding dress fittings. Other arrangements didn’t require her much attention as professionals handled them.

Xie Jinnan’s situation was likely different. The wedding preparations in Jingjiang demanded his personal involvement in many aspects.

Wen Jingyi hesitated briefly before adding, “Or did you not sleep well last night?”

Xie Jinnan: “...”

“A bit tired, but it doesn’t affect me,” he finally replied after some thought.

Who would admit that last night he tossed and turned all night because his wife smelled so enticing?

That was simply out of the question.

Wen Jingyi took his words at face value, thinking he was just worn out from the wedding. After all, he had come to meet her immediately after getting off the plane, then rushed back to Jingjiang to prepare for the wedding, and even after the ceremony, he hadn’t had a chance to rest properly.

He had to work tomorrow and still had many matters to handle during the transition.

Wen Jingyi gently suggested, “Then get some rest early tonight. Will you be back after the dinner?”

“Yeah.”

She wanted to say more, but Xie Jinnan, sensing the conversation was stalling, left with a brief “I’m heading down,” and went downstairs ahead of her.

Watching his retreating figure, Wen Jingyi paused, momentarily wondering if she had said something wrong.

…

After breakfast, Wen Jingyi followed the steward He Ru to a bookstore in the city.

Bai Heng and Mo Chen had gone to handle certification matters today, so no one was available to accompany Wen Jingyi to the bookstore. Being new to Jingjiang and unfamiliar with the surroundings, Xie Jinnan had offered to go with her, but she refused.

He wasn’t feeling well today and was overwhelmed with preparations for returning to the company tomorrow. Naturally, she didn’t want to disrupt his plans.

In the end, Xie Jinnan couldn’t persuade her and had He Ru come over from the old residence instead.

Wen Jingyi rarely went out; after buying the books, she let He Ru take her on a brief stroll and then have lunch. By the time they returned, it was two in the afternoon, and they had two large boxes filled with books—enough to last an entire year, if not more.

The servants carried the books into the study, but Wen Jingyi didn’t ask for help organizing them. Instead, she carefully sorted and placed the new acquisitions into the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves herself.

Just as she finished unpacking one box, there was a gentle knock on the study door.

Crouched by another box, carefully laying the books on a carpet, Wen Jingyi didn’t look up but said, “Come in.”

The door opened, and Wen Jingyi glanced up, startled slightly to see the man.

Xie Jinnan didn’t enter immediately but stood in the doorway.

Dressed in simple, loose loungewear, his neatly trimmed short hair falling casually over his brow, lending a touch of disheveled charm to his sharp, handsome features.

Seeing him enter, Wen Jingyi set down her book and stood. “Finished your work?”

“Almost,” he replied, then shifted his gaze to the pile of books on the carpet—an array of genres.

“That many books?”

Wen Jingyi felt a little embarrassed. “I thought I’d buy them all at once so I wouldn’t have to keep going to the bookstore.”

He said casually, “If you love reading so much, why not consider opening a bookstore?”

That way, she could read every day, and turning her passion into a career would be a win-win.

It was clear Wen Jingyi truly loved books for him to say that.

Her long lashes fluttered slightly at his words. After a moment, she smiled at him but said nothing.

“May I take a look?”

Xie Jinnan stepped closer and politely asked, eyes on the books before her.

Wen Jingyi hesitated briefly. “Of course.”

Receiving her permission, he knelt on one knee and picked up two books nearby—one a medieval novel, the other a poetic drama.

The former was humorous and lighthearted, while the latter, a poetic play, was dense and difficult for most to read through.

He had read both once but never again.

Seeing him leaf through the pages, Wen Jingyi politely asked, “Do you want to read these?”

She had read them already but liked revisiting favorites. She had a habit of reading each book several times and thus bought both new and familiar titles to avoid last-minute trips to the bookstore.

Xie Jinnan stood, holding the books up to her side. “Where should I put these?”

Wen Jingyi pointed to the fourth shelf. “Put them there.”

He arranged the books neatly, glanced over the general layout of the shelves, then looked at her with an unreadable expression. “How should I sort them? By genre?”

Was he… offering to help her?

Surprised, Wen Jingyi quickly nodded.

“Alright.” He squatted down again to help her organize the remaining books.

She watched him for half a second before joining him.

With half a box left, two people tidying up was quick; within minutes, all the books were shelved.

Using his height advantage, Xie Jinnan handled the upper shelves, placing the last two books. He naturally turned his head; Wen Jingyi had just finished placing her last book and sighed in relief, looking up.

Both were focused on their task, unaware of how close they had unconsciously drawn to one another.

“Xie…” Wen Jingyi looked up into the man’s handsome face, suddenly very near. Her breath caught, and her thanks died on her lips.

They were far too close.

Already beyond the normal bounds of social distance.

Close enough that she could see every long eyelash fluttering with his breath.

He looked down at her with deep eyes, his heavy breathing darkening his gaze like spilled ink spreading across an inkstone.

Her slightly nervous eyes were soft, non-threatening, like thousands of feathers tickling his palm.

Involuntarily, his gaze drifted to her full, red lips—dry but perfectly shaped, the lines clearly visible.

He inched closer, sensing her erratic heartbeat and the nearly delayed rhythm of her breath…

And the faint, lingering fragrance that had tormented him all night.

Their warm breaths seemed to mingle in the air, exchanging scents, igniting a burning heat between them.

Wen Jingyi’s mind blanked momentarily. Her fingers whitened as they clenched. When she came to, she hurriedly took a step back.

Before she could fully retreat, her wrist was suddenly gripped.

Xie Jinnan instinctively held her wrist.

Her heart tightened sharply, panic flickering in her eyes.

Like waking from a dream, he released her hand, his voice hoarse with apology. “Sorry.”

Wen Jingyi’s throat tightened with a “It’s okay,” but before she could say it, his gaze darkened as he looked at her wrist. “Did I hurt you?”

She instinctively rubbed her wrist, feeling only slight soreness. “No, it doesn’t hurt.”

No one spoke after that.

The air seemed to freeze.

After a brief silence, Xie Jinnan was the first to speak. “We won’t go out tonight.”

Wen Jingyi’s lingering flutter hadn’t faded. She looked up, puzzled. “Why?”

Was the gathering canceled?

“We’ll have it at home instead,” he said immediately, “Is that okay?”

Wen Jingyi had never been fond of dining out or hotel gatherings when at home. She preferred having friends over in her own apartment or villa, chatting and playing until late.

So she readily agreed to a small gathering at home with Xie Jinnan’s friends.

Once she consented, he was about to leave, but at the door, he unexpectedly turned back and suggested, “Think carefully about the bookstore.”

Before she replied, he continued, “There’s a vacant shop near the company with good foot traffic, environment, and transport. Once you start working, I won’t always have time to accompany you, but having something you love to do will at least keep you from feeling bored. If you’re lucky, you might even make a few like-minded friends.”

His voice was low and calm, his thoughts clearly laid out.

“I’ll think about it,” Wen Jingyi said softly, her clear eyes shimmering.

She had considered opening a bookstore before but was too busy with school and family matters to make it happen.

Not all men would so thoughtfully plan their wife’s life after marriage.

Worried she might feel lonely and out of place in a new city, he encouraged her to turn her passion into work and find friends who shared her interests.

Ultimately, he just wanted her to be happy.

…

After finishing up in the study, it was already five o’clock. Wen Jingyi left the study and found nobody in the living room—not He Ru, nor Aunt Jiang.

Recalling that Xie Jinnan’s friends were coming for a small gathering, she wondered if they had gone to the kitchen.

She changed direction and headed there.

Approaching the kitchen, she heard the sound of water washing vegetables.

Expecting Aunt Jiang to be busy alone with so many guests coming, Wen Jingyi thought she might help out.

But upon entering, she didn’t see Aunt Jiang; instead, Xie Jinnan was there.

In the open kitchen, the man stood before the marble island, slightly bent over, washing vegetables at the sink with practiced, unhurried hands. His tall, upright figure still carried an air of nobility, yet now with a touch of everyday warmth—clear and calm.

Xie Jinnan was cooking today?

Where was Aunt Jiang?

Wen Jingyi instinctively searched for Aunt Jiang or He Ru, then looked around. Besides the two of them, no one else was in the villa.

Other servants only came at scheduled times to clean and weren’t around now.

“Finished tidying the study?”

Noticing Wen Jingyi, Xie Jinnan placed the cleaned vegetables in a colander, glanced at her briefly, then looked away and fetched two tomatoes to wash.

Wen Jingyi approached the island, her clear eyes filled with curiosity. “You cook?”

Xie Jinnan smiled slightly. “Strange?”

“A bit,” Wen Jingyi admitted, hesitating a moment before rolling up her sleeves and trying to edge past the island into the kitchen. “I can help.”

This time, Xie Jinnan asked her, “Can you cook?”

“I…” washing tomatoes counts, right?

Wen Jingyi smiled awkwardly.

As a sickly child, her family had pampered her, taking care of everything. Growing up accustomed to this lifestyle, she never thought to change. Cooking was something she only ever did as washing fruit or arranging platters.

Seeing her embarrassment, Xie Jinnan was unsurprised. A young lady who never touched a kitchen but still offered to help was already rare.

“No need,” he said, setting aside the washed vegetables and the cutting board. “If I can give Aunt Jiang a day off, it means I can handle it myself.”

Wen Jingyi hesitated, then, not wanting to trouble him, quietly stepped back.

Still, her curiosity was piqued.

What kind of friends had come that the heir of the Xie family would personally cook and prepare the meal?

Were they the same two friends she had seen with him at the Summer Hotel before the wedding?

Xie Jinnan prepared six dishes. Though all were homestyle, they were fragrant and delicious, whetting the appetite.

Wen Jingyi volunteered to set the table. Looking up, she saw Xie Jinnan take down a bottle of red wine from the cabinet—a deep, beautiful color, signed by the winemaker, clearly a cherished vintage held for years.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

Startled, Wen Jingyi looked away from the wine, quickly wiped her hands on a clean towel, and was about to open the door when Xie Jinnan stopped her with a hand.

“I’ll get it.”

He strode over swiftly.

The door opened, and even before Wen Jingyi could see clearly, she heard a teasing, magnetic male voice: “Xie Jinnan, aren’t you hiding your wife anymore?”

The voice was pleasant, with a distinctive Jingjiang accent.

Xie Jinnan ignored him, stepping aside to let them in.

Song Chuan changed his shoes by the entrance and entered with a poised, cool-spirited girl. Before going inside, he kindly handed her a clean pair of slippers, a gesture full of warmth.

Together, they looked like a pair of celestial lovers.

Song Chuan looked up and immediately noticed Wen Jingyi in her loose homewear. Beneath her beauty lay a calm, composed demeanor—elegant, graceful, and dignified—making her striking appearance only more enchanting.

From a distance, Wen Jingyi gave them a polite nod.

So this was Old Xie’s new wife?

Admiration flickered in Song Chuan’s eyes as he returned a courteous nod and walked in, arm around the girl’s waist.

Right behind them, Xie Yao and Lu Ming’an followed one after another.

“Hello, sister-in-law,” Xie Yao greeted with a smile. “I’m Xie Yao. We met at the wedding. Not sure if you remember me.”

Wen Jingyi smiled gently. “I remember.”

He was the son of the aunt by marriage. When she visited the old residence, He Ru had roughly introduced him.

Even if she didn’t recall faces, she remembered the names well enough to distinguish them.

As Lu Ming’an was about to introduce himself, Xie Jinnan passed by and suddenly said, “This is Lao Lu—my childhood friend. Just call him that.”

Lu Ming’an: “...”

Wasn’t Xiao An (Little An) nicer?

Why call him Lao Lu (Old Lu)?

Still, Lu Ming’an smiled and greeted Wen Jingyi warmly.

Song Chuan chuckled lightly and introduced himself and the girl beside him: “Just call me Song Chuan. This is my wife, Gu Xiang.”

Compared to Song Chuan’s gentle, attentive manner toward Gu Xiang, she seemed more reserved, though her eyes warmed slightly when they met Wen Jingyi’s.

The three men each brought a bottle of rare Burgundy red wine, aged for many years. The combined value was beyond measure.

They looked prepared for an all-night drinking session.

They first opened Xie Jinnan’s bottle. After a few rounds, a flush appeared on Xie Yao’s handsome face. He had the weakest tolerance but was the liveliest of the group.

“Sister-in-law, do you know? On the wedding day, I asked my brother to bring you over so everyone could meet you. Guess what he said?”

Wen Jingyi played along, “What did he say?”

Lu Ming’an glanced at the composed Xie Jinnan opposite and grinned mischievously: “Our Old Xie said, ‘You have to hide your treasure. Only show her after asking her permission.’”

Xie Yao immediately backed him up, laughing heartily.

Xie Jinnan: “...”

Wen Jingyi’s cheeks colored lightly. She knew that surely wasn’t his exact phrasing.

Two ladies were present, including Gu Xiang, who was sensitive to smoke. So, besides drinking, no one smoked.

Minutes later, Xie Jinnan excused himself to the bathroom.

At the door, he didn’t go in but pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. The sound of the lighter sparked, flames flickered, and a thin plume of smoke curled around his sharp features.

“Smoking without inviting me?”

Song Chuan appeared silently beside him, holding an unlit cigarette, asking for the lighter.

Since marrying Gu Xiang, he no longer carried a lighter and only occasionally smelled smoke to curb cravings.

Xie Jinnan tossed the lighter to him. Song Chuan caught it smoothly, lit his cigarette, took a drag, and exhaled a stream of white smoke.

“So? You two newlyweds not seeing eye to eye?”

Though they hadn’t shown it at dinner, anyone with eyes could tell there was some distance between them.

Especially a married man like him — he could tell if a couple had feelings for each other.

Xie Jinnan didn’t glance at him.

Seeing his cool, detached demeanor, which hadn’t changed much since before the wedding, Song Chuan suddenly had a thought: “You haven’t…”

Xie Jinnan shot him a cold look.

Song Chuan laughed and said, “You don’t like that?”

But it didn’t seem so.

He’d heard since the engagement, Old Xie had been very gentle with his fiancée, exceedingly considerate at the wedding, and especially protective on the day they went to the old residence.

Today’s gathering was meant to help Wen Jingyi integrate into his circle.

If there was no affection, even Old Xie’s orders wouldn’t have gone this far.

After all, with Lin Zhiyu before, Old Xie had also issued strict commands, and despite their childhood bond, his attitude hadn’t changed much.

Song Chuan took a few drags, then stubbed out his cigarette, tossing it into the trash.

“You’re officially married. Since you’re okay with it, treat her well. Maybe you’ll develop feelings.”

Xie Jinnan frowned, his tone cool, “If you have time to study my marriage, you should figure out how to get your wife to forgive you.”

Song Chuan twitched his mouth but still offered advice: “If you’re unsure of Wen Jingyi’s feelings, buy something so she accidentally sees it. Her reaction will tell you everything.”

If she rejected it, he’d be a failed husband.

What that item was, needed no explanation.

Xie Jinnan’s eyes narrowed.