Jing Yuan brushed past him, heading toward the stairs.
Moments later, Wen Yujing's phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket, glanced at the caller ID, and his brows furrowed.
It was Jing Yuan's homeroom teacher.
"Master Jing, Miss Jing got into a fight at school yesterday. Should we—"
Before the teacher could finish, Wen Yujing cut him off in a deep, commanding voice:"Got it."
He hung up without another word, then turned his head toward the second floor. Lifting his long, powerful hand, he brushed his lips lightly. For some reason, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"A contract, huh? Heh."
That contract they had signed… contained a secret Jing Yuan didn't know.
Back in her room, Jing Yuan shut the door and sprawled across the soft, oversized bed like a starfish. Phone in hand, on speaker mode, she was chatting with Wen Manjun.
"Xiaoyuan, did Uncle do anything to you last night?" The voice on the other end carried a trace of curiosity—and expectation.
"No," she replied calmly.
Manjun let out a disappointed, "Oh."
Jing Yuan arched a brow. "Manjun, from the sound of it, you're not too happy with my answer, hmm? Do you actually want something to happen between us?"
"I—of course not! It's just… Xiaoyuan, you're married to my uncle now, living under the same roof. If he has no interest in you, does that mean my uncle… doesn't work in that way?"
Heh. Manjun, you think too simply. The idea that Wen Yujing is "not capable" couldn't be further from the truth.
"Xiaoyuan, can you help me take a leave from Teacher Jiang tomorrow? I want to sneak out to see my brother."
"Mm, okay."
She hung up just as Wen Yujing's voice carried in from outside her door.
"Jing Yuan, come to the study after you've showered."
Before she could retort, his voice came again—deep, careless, mocking:"Relax. I'm not so desperate that I'd force myself on you."
Jing Yuan pushed herself upright from the bed, calling out casually, "Fine, I got it."
Only then did Wen Yujing stride toward the study, his long legs moving with practiced authority.
An hour later, Jing Yuan opened her door, dressed in a pale blue short-sleeved loungewear set. But instead of going to the study, she headed downstairs.
Knowing Fu-ma was in the kitchen, she called out, "Fu-ma, is the sweet rice cake ready yet?"
Fu-ma turned, smiling warmly. "Yes, young madam. It's on the table."
Jing Yuan picked up the small plate of cakes and carried it upstairs.
At the study door, she saw Wen Yujing in front of his desk, finishing a video conference.
She tapped lightly on the door—knock, knock.
Without lifting his gaze from the screen, he said curtly:"Dismissed."
Closing the laptop, he finally looked up. At the sight of her, his severe expression softened.
"Come in."
Jing Yuan had never entered his study before, so she felt compelled to knock. She placed the plate on the desk."Wen Yujing, Fu-ma asked me to bring this up for you."
He lowered his eyes to the cakes. His expression instantly hardened, dark and cold.
Sweet rice cake—his forbidden trigger. A shadow he never wanted to face.
"Tell me. Why did you really come to the study?"
"Jing Yuan, do you not know this cake should never appear in front of me? Or… did you do it on purpose?"
With that, he picked up the plate and, in one swift motion, overturned it right in front of her.
Crash!Porcelain shattered, scattering pieces and rice cake across the floor.
"Wen Yujing, are you insane? If you won't eat it, fine—I will!" she snapped, glaring at him.
Her brows drew tight as she stepped forward. "On purpose? Ha! That's right, Wen Yujing—I did do it on purpose. So what?"
Downstairs, Fu-ma had heard their shouting and hurried up. At the sight of the mess and the broken plate, she immediately understood.
Ah… I forgot to warn the young madam.
"Young Master, it's my fault. I made the cake. I just thought, since Madam likes it, I should—"
"Enough," Wen Yujing cut her off sharply. "Get out. Both of you, get out!"
Jing Yuan cast him a sidelong look, then crouched to pick up the fallen cake pieces, muttering under her breath:"You're seriously ill. Manjun was right—you should get checked at a hospital."
"Madam, let's go," Fu-ma whispered, quickly pulling her away.
Back in her room, Jing Yuan turned to Fu-ma."Fu-ma, why can't that cake appear in front of Wen Yujing?"
Fu-ma hesitated, sighed heavily, and admitted, "It was your young master's mother's favorite dessert."
His birth mother?
Then the woman at the Wen family's old estate wasn't his real mother—just a stepmother?
"I see. I'm sorry, Fu-ma. I dragged you into this."
"It's alright, Madam."
After soothing her a while longer, Fu-ma finally left the room.
The next morning, Jing Yuan dressed in a simple floral dress, hair tied in a high ponytail, looking refreshed as she stepped out.
Just as she turned, Wen Yujing's deep voice startled her:"I'll take you to school later."
She nearly jumped out of her skin, clutching her chest as she spun around. Meeting those icy eyes, she snapped,"Wen Yujing! Do you walk without making a sound? Trying to scare people to death first thing in the morning?!"
Wen Yujing: "…"
Half an hour later, breakfast finished, Jing Yuan suddenly remembered her promise to Wen Manjun—that she'd skip school today to sneak out and meet her brother.
She looked up at him, wide eyes blinking innocently."Wen Yujing, I took a leave today. I want to see my brother."
"Jing Yinian?"
"I'll go with you."
"No—"
"I happen to need to speak with him."
With that, Jing Yuan had no grounds to refuse. After all, Longcheng Group was currently cooperating with Donghuang Financial Group—and Wen Yujing owned half of Longcheng's shares.
Resting her chin in her hands, she shuddered at the memory of last night's dream.
Her gaze turned uncertain as she whispered, lips trembling slightly:"Wen Yujing, if one day I disappear… will you take care of my family for me?"
That dream had been too real. It felt like a warning—that one day, she truly might leave them all behind.
Wen Yujing set down the phone he'd been dialing to reach Jing Yinian, rose, and stretched a hand to her forehead.
"Wen Yujing, what are you doing? I'm not sick!"
"Mm. No fever. Then why are you spouting nonsense? Unless…"
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing.
"Unless what? Let me tell you—I meant every word I just said."
At this point, Wen Yujing truly suspected there was something wrong with her head. No, more accurately—he'd begun suspecting it since yesterday.
He didn't reply, only stared at her silently. After a long pause, he sat back down and picked up his phone again.