It was clear—he didn't welcome her in the Imperial Capital.
Their reunion brought him no joy, only displeasure.
Celia curled her slender, pale fingers and asked softly, "Professor Fu, can't I come to the Imperial Capital?"
Nathaniel Fu's expression remained cold and unreadable. "The world is vast. You could have gone anywhere, yet you chose here. You should have known I was in the capital too, right? And do you know who Lu Yao is to me?"
Celia nodded calmly. "Yes. She's your fiancée."
"What a coincidence," he said flatly. "You appeared here not long after I returned. My fiancée studies at Tsinghua University, and now you're there too—parading around, even competing with her for the campus beauty title. Celia, don't tell me all of this is just coincidence."
For a brief moment, Celia thought perhaps Li Yuting was right—he was only standing up for his fiancée.
At that moment, Nathaniel rose from his chair. His tall, imposing figure loomed over her. "Why aren't you speaking?"
Celia looked at him quietly, her clear eyes unflinching. "Because even if I said it was a coincidence, you wouldn't believe me."
"Celia," he said, deliberately stressing her name, his voice carrying a warning edge. "Don't be greedy. When we ended things, I gave you enough—money, property, jewelry. If you wanted more, you could have asked. But don't play games."
Her heart trembled.
So that was how he saw her.
In his eyes, he had already severed their ties with money, and her reappearance only made her a nuisance. To him, she was nothing more than a scheming, greedy woman.
Yes, she knew she could never compare to his precious Lu Yao, his white moonlight. But she wasn't so despicable.
All of his past tenderness, his lingering affection—it had all turned into ashes.
"Professor Fu," she said quietly, "you've misunderstood. My coming to the Imperial Capital has nothing to do with you. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about our past—especially not your fiancée. I sincerely wish you a long, happy marriage… and many children."
Nathaniel's lips twitched, his gaze sharp. "Do you really think I'd believe you?"
"Then there's nothing more to say." Celia turned to leave.
But his large hand shot out, seizing her slender wrist. His voice was low and forceful. "Celia, leave the Imperial Capital immediately. I don't want to see you here!"
He was driving her away?
Why?
Celia turned back, her eyes bright and steady. "I won't leave."
A dangerous darkness clouded Nathaniel's eyes. In the next second, his long arms wrapped around her slender waist, pulling her into his embrace.
Back in his warm, powerful arms, Celia struggled fiercely. But then she caught the faint trace of perfume on him—
The same fragrance Lu Yao loved to wear.
The image of Lu Yao kissing him earlier flashed in her mind, stabbing her heart with discomfort.
"Nathaniel Fu, let me go!"
But the more she struggled, the tighter his embrace became. His hands clamped around her soft waist, as if she were something fragile and easily broken. It had been so long since he had held her, and now that she was in his arms again, something long-buried inside him stirred awake.
He hated that feeling. He hated that she was here in the capital, disturbing his balance.
"Let go, you're hurting me!" Celia cried out, pain flashing across her face. "Nathaniel, it hurts—my stomach! You're hurting my stomach!"
Her cries of pain jolted him, dragging him back to the memories of their time together in Yecheng—the tenderness, the laughter, the moments he thought he had buried.
His grip loosened instantly. No longer daring to squeeze her waist, he merely circled her with his arms, holding her carefully, almost cautiously.
His deep voice dropped low, magnetic yet restrained. "Stop struggling. If you stay still, I won't hurt you."