TIL - 11

The car door opened, but Shen Cheng didn’t get in. He pulled Wen Huo out first, then got in himself, and told the driver to drive.

The driver was momentarily stunned, then belatedly responded, quickly getting into the car.

The car started and drove away.

Wen Huo stood rooted to the spot, showing no reaction, her expression unchanged, not even a hint of the normal embarrassment someone would display in such a situation.

After she stood for a while, Wu Guo walked up and put his jacket, which had fallen from Wen Huo’s shoulder when Shen Cheng pulled her, back on her: “Shall I walk you back to your dorm?”

Wen Huo tilted her head to look at him: “Aren’t you curious about my relationship with Professor Shen?”

Wu Guo nodded: “Curious, but if you don’t want to say, there’s no point in me asking, right?”

Wen Huo told him: “He’s my godfather.”

Wu Guo’s eyes widened: “Huh?”

Wen Huo smiled faintly: “Just kidding. I was a student Professor Shen took on during his time as a researcher at the Chinese Academy of Sciences.”

Wu Guo suddenly understood. No wonder Wen Huo’s talent was so high, as if heaven forced her into this field. He had been surprised, wondering if there really were brains born for physics in this era. It turned out Shen Cheng had been secretly guiding her.

If that was the case, it made perfect sense, and he felt relieved.

To think he had once felt he should change careers because Wen Huo was too outstanding...

Fortunately, he was still worthy.

Wen Huo’s cleverness lay in effortlessly dispelling his doubts about “her relationship with Shen Cheng,” preventing him from feeling uncomfortable and avoiding unnecessary misunderstandings.

At the same time, she made him feel that her talent wasn’t overwhelming; her superiority over him was entirely due to having a powerful helper.

As for her own efforts being attributed to Shen Cheng’s guidance, she didn’t feel wronged at all. She always valued practical results over the title of genius.

Wu Guo also hadn’t expected that a simple meal with Wen Huo, with minimal conversation, would yield so much information. Although he now knew Wen Huo had help, he still found her intelligent enough.

As Wen Huo chatted casually with him, Shen Cheng watched in the rearview mirror. His expression was as usual, but the aura he exuded was not.

She’s truly something else; she’s already chatting again?

He said calmly: “Go back.”

The driver nodded, turned the car around at the next intersection, and drove back.

The car stopped in front of Wen Huo again. Wu Guo, having had her explain her relationship with Shen Cheng, no longer showed surprise at Shen Cheng’s sudden return. He even smiled at her: “Professor Shen came to pick you up.”

Wen Huo knew when to quit. This time, she didn’t cause any more trouble. After bidding Wu Guo farewell, she got into the car.

Shen Cheng didn’t say a word in the car, and neither did Wen Huo.

Soon, the car stopped at the apartment Shen Cheng had bought years ago, a 400-square-meter unit in the CBD Guomao Golden Cross, Fanyue 108, with a full view of Chang’an Avenue. It likely cost around 100 million yuan when purchased.

This place was originally the Ascott serviced apartments for foreigners, previously housing executives from Fortune 500 companies.

Wen Huo used to read Wen Bing’s magazines; this area was where international architectural masters battled it out.

The claim that Beijing has the most rich people in the country is not an exaggeration. Beijing has created too many conditions that attract the wealthy.

Wen Huo followed Shen Cheng into the apartment. She didn’t speak upon entering, just like every time before, standing not far from the door.

Shen Cheng walked directly to the western kitchen, opened the refrigerator, took out a bottle of Kobe water, grabbed a glass, poured half a glass, and drank it. He then ignored her, as if Wen Huo didn’t exist, and went to take a shower.

Wen Huo hadn’t stood for long when someone knocked on the door. She never opened the door for Shen Cheng, so she didn’t bother.

Shen Cheng heard it and came out naked: “Open the door.”

Wen Huo had seen his body countless times. No matter how good the proportions, how coordinated the two halves, how sensual his muscles, or how delicate his skin texture, she looked at him as if he were a piece of cured meat, utterly unfazed.

She opened the door calmly, then took a flat, square box from Shen Cheng’s assistant.

The door closed, she placed the box on the table, and continued to stand.

Shen Cheng, after showering, put on a pair of sweatpants, his upper body bare and feet bare. He walked to the table and threw the box in front of Wen Huo: “Change into this.”

Wen Huo had just argued with him, saying she found those games disgusting, and he still wanted her to wear it? She wouldn’t: “I don’t want to wear it.”

Shen Cheng opened the box for her and said again: “Change into it.”

Wen Huo pursed her lips, saying nothing, not moving, as if she hadn’t heard him.

Shen Cheng sat down, tilted his head slightly, and looked at her with a very complex gaze: “Aren’t you the little wildcat of the nightclub? Dance for me.”

Wen Huo frowned slightly.

Cheng Cuo, that traitor.

Wen Huo then realized that the outfit Shen Cheng wanted her to change into was one she often wore when clubbing. She felt she could explain: “That was before I met you. I haven’t been there since.”

Shen Cheng asked her: “Why didn’t you go after you met me?”

Wen Huo didn’t say.

The more she refused to speak, the more Shen Cheng wanted to hear: “I can still talk to you nicely right now. Don’t act up.”

Wen Huo mumbled: “Because I became your person.”

Shen Cheng’s previously tense muscles, angered moments ago, suddenly relaxed a little.

After Wen Huo spoke, time seemed to stand still. After about three or four minutes, Shen Cheng spoke again: “Didn’t I disgust you? Didn’t you want to vomit playing games with me? Wen Huo, do you have any truth in you?”

Wen Huo lowered her head slightly, her voice very soft: “I’m only disgusted by the games, not by you. I was just too angry.”

Shen Cheng’s muscles completely relaxed, though it wasn’t visible to the naked eye, so as long as his tone remained cold, it would give the false impression that he was still angry: “Why are you angry?”

Wen Huo’s voice had a hint of a sob, every scene from that day flashing back to her mind: “Then why did you slander me? Why did you doubt me? What’s wrong with me eating an ice cream cone? You don’t even buy me one! What’s wrong with someone else buying me one? What’s wrong with me eating an ice cream cone with him? Did I become unchaste or cheat? Yes, I was proactive, I pursued you, so I’m shameless, right? You can say whatever you want about me. Not only do I have to play your games, but I also have to put up with all your strange tempers. I can’t feel wronged at all. I feel wronged with my own man, and I’m still in the wrong!”

Shen Cheng’s expression instantly became richer, clearly his thoughts were scrambled by Wen Huo’s outburst.

Wen Huo squatted down, picked up the clothes Shen Cheng threw at her: “I didn’t regret saying those things that day, but I deleted your WeChat in a fit of anger, and I couldn’t find you...”

Shen Cheng was truly exasperated by her. He walked over, pulled her up, took her phone from her bag, re-added his WeChat, and re-saved his number: “Go home and memorize this for me.”

Wen Huo sniffled: “Mhm...”

Shen Cheng pulled a tissue from the table and roughly wiped her moist eyes.

Wen Huo winced, taking a sharp breath.

Shen Cheng didn’t lighten his touch: “So you know it hurts? Only you hurt? Wen Huo, I remember telling you that you can have a temper, but you must have boundaries. Others won’t indulge you.”

Wen Huo softly retorted: “But you’re not others.”

Shen Cheng threw the tissue away and pinched her face: “Now you say I’m not others. Wasn’t it you who said I was utterly disgusting that day?”

Wen Huo lied through her teeth: “That wasn’t me.”

Shen Cheng found that feeling again. Wen Huo used to be just like this: a little wilful, a little clever, and mischievous, but always appearing mostly well-behaved.

He released her face, moving his hand to her waist, and told her: “This apartment is for you.”

Wen Huo looked up at him.

Shen Cheng continued: “Don’t say ‘other mistresses at least get money’ anymore. None of those ‘others’ will be richer than me.”

Wen Huo lowered her head and softly, gently said: “Oh.”

________________________________________

The next day, Tianze Road, Sushi Ryu.

This was a sushi restaurant. Shen Cheng didn’t like eating there, but Tang Junen did, so whenever Shen Cheng came here, it was because Tang Junen wanted to.

Tang Junen had found out about Lu Xingchuan’s several shell companies used for tax evasion and handed the information to Shen Cheng.

Shen Cheng opened the envelope, looked at the photos of the company signs and business licenses, and nodded: “Efficiency is decent.”

Tang Junen was a little proud: “Well, isn’t that just a given?”

Shen Cheng put the photos back, setting the documents aside: “After we eat, shall we play a round of golf?”

Tang Junen raised an eyebrow, looking at him as if he were an alien: “Oh, the sun’s rising from the west. Our Professor Shen is so free? Isn’t your time counted in seconds?”

Shen Cheng shrugged: “Then never mind.”

Tang Junen laughed: “Come on, come on. If you’re paying, I’m in. I love freeloading on food, drinks, and golf.”

Shen Cheng checked the time on his phone. As he moved, his collar was tugged, revealing a purplish-red mark on his fair skin, particularly conspicuous.

Tang Junen put down his fork and exclaimed: “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What happened here? Mosquito bite? Tsk, that must’ve been a huge mosquito.”

Shen Cheng instinctively covered it, frowning: “Eat your food.”

Tang Junen grunted: “Alright, Shen Cheng, you’re quick, aren’t you? Seamless transition already?”

Shen Cheng was disgusted by his words. He no longer wanted to play golf with him, nor did he want to eat. He wiped his mouth and stood up: “I just remembered I have something at the firm. Golf another time.”

He walked two steps, then stepped back: “Oh, right. It’s your turn to pay the bill.”

Tang Junen was stunned for half a minute, then belatedly exclaimed: “Damn you, Shen Cheng...”

________________________________________

Shen Cheng returned to the firm and called his secretary into the office.

The secretary couldn’t discern Shen Cheng’s mood. He thought he had made a mistake and dared not even breathe too loudly.

Shen Cheng sat down and asked him: “Regarding the things I previously gave Wen Huo, redraft a list for them.”

The secretary understood. This meant he had changed his mind and was giving them to her again: “Understood.”

Shen Cheng had no other business and dismissed him.

As soon as the secretary left, the assistant arrived, saying someone had sent a letter to the firm addressed to Shen Cheng.

Shen Cheng took it, glanced at the handwriting on the envelope – it was Wen Huo’s.

He didn’t know what Wen Huo had written to him. Just as he was about to open it, Wen Huo called. He answered and immediately heard her anxious voice: “Did you receive a letter?! Don’t read it!”

Shen Cheng had initially been uninterested, but her words piqued his curiosity: “What letter?”

Wen Huo breathed a sigh of relief: “It’s good you didn’t receive it.”

“What letter?”

“Nothing, it’s just that I deleted you before, right? Then I couldn’t contact you, and I only knew where your firm was, and then...”

“Then you wrote me an apology letter.”

“It’s not an apology letter!”

“Mm.”

“Then, I’ll hang up.”

“Mm.”

“Don’t read it! Just throw it away if you receive it!”

“Mm.”

“Also, I think I left a little hickey on your neck yesterday... I didn’t mean to... Um, you hurt me too much, so I couldn’t help it...”

“Mm.”

“Okay! I’m hanging up!”

Then, a dial tone sounded from the phone.

Shen Cheng put his phone aside and opened Wen Huo’s letter.

Wen Huo’s handwriting was quite beautiful, and her vocabulary was rich. He quickly skimmed it, refolded it, put it back in the envelope, and tapped his fingers on the envelope. After a long moment, he belatedly smiled.

Was this an apology letter? Wasn’t it a love letter? Only she could do that.

________________________________________

In the dorm, Wen Huo came out of the bathroom, and Qiu Mingyun told her: “You just got a text. I accidentally glimpsed it; it said the letter was signed for. That fast? You just finished writing it, and it’s already here? Did you send it within the same city?”

Wen Huo’s letter was freshly written, not from the day she argued with Shen Cheng. “Mhm.”

Qiu Mingyun was quite curious: “Who did you write the letter to?”

Wen Huo wiped her hands: “Just, there’s that person.”

Qiu Mingyun saw she didn’t want to talk and didn’t ask further: “Are you going to the institute this afternoon?”

Wen Huo nodded: “Mhm.”

After their usual daily chat, Wen Huo left for the institute. She still had a pile of things to do.

On the way, Han Bailu called her again, this time with a very bad attitude: “Can’t you just not appear in public with him?”

Wen Huo said calmly: “Ms. Han, you know your own husband best. Will he let others get leverage on him? Do you think the paparazzi you hired would be able to photograph him if I took him to public places?”

Han Bailu fell silent.

Wen Huo continued: “And Ms. Han, as your partner, I’d like to remind you that as long as Shen Cheng is unwilling, even if you get evidence of his infidelity, you won’t get a single cent from him. You’d better think of another brilliant plan.”

Han Bailu grew anxious upon hearing this: “Then if you can’t help me get his money, what’s the use of me hiring you?”

Wen Huo said: “You only hired me to seduce him. Whether you can achieve your wish is your problem to consider; it’s not within my service scope. My reminder is out of humanitarianism.”

Han Bailu was silent again.

Wen Huo continued: “You hired me because you want a share of his money. You suddenly canceled our cooperation because you thought this method had a slim chance of getting his money. Now you’re proposing to cooperate again because you’re in dire need of money and have no other options, so you want to gamble on this.”

Han Bailu realized that Wen Huo was not easily manipulated: “Now you know. Can you help me brainstorm some ideas? I’ve already given you a lot of money.”

Although Wen Huo wasn’t short on money, she didn’t mind more: “More money.”

“More money again?”

“Ms. Han, compared to the money you might get from Shen Cheng, can this even be called money? If you’re stingy about this much, then there’s nothing more to discuss. It’s perfectly fine for me to only earn money from seducing him.”

Han Bailu was genuinely in dire need of money now. Lu Xingchuan was waiting for her to save him. She gritted her teeth before finally saying: “Fine!”

The call ended. Wen Huo smiled, amused by Han Bailu’s naivety. She actually thought Wen Huo had the ability to contend with Shen Cheng. The only reason she could act so willfully and throw tantrums around Shen Cheng was because she posed no threat to him.