15 Don’t Argue

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Sheng Huaining was satisfied.

Only someone close would call her that; Shao Jingchu from a few hours ago didn’t count.

She couldn’t help if he was thick-skinned.

The umbrella was just big enough to cover two people. Raindrops dripped along the ribs of the umbrella, inevitably splashing onto the trailing hem of her dress and the crisp folds of his trousers.

He Chenye glanced at the car parked at the hotel entrance, bent slightly, catching a faint fruity scent, and asked, “Have you been drinking?”

She shook her head. “No. You?”

Hearing this, He Chenye recalled a client from two hours earlier mentioning how lively the banquet hall on the first floor was—probably some wealthy heirs and heiresses holding a spirited party.

He listened in a bit more, then sent Sheng Huaining a WeChat message.

When no reply came for a long time, he assumed she was busy and couldn’t respond, so he hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol and was now waiting here to pick her up.

For a moment, Sheng Huaining lit up with joy. “So you’re waiting here just in case I drive drunk?”

She looked around, puzzled. “Where’s your car? No driver either?”

He Chenye raised his arm and gently guided her toward the parking spot, softly saying, “I didn’t drink, so I sent the driver off.”

The doorman, who had been waiting nearby, was quick on his feet, hurrying to open the car doors on both sides.

Sheng Huaining silently thanked her lucky stars she hadn’t brought Uncle Rong along today; otherwise, who knew what trouble might have ensued.

She glanced at the spare Mary Jane flats by her feet and happily leaned back in her seat, unable to suppress the smile at the corner of her mouth. “It’s still early. Want to go to the supermarket?”

He Chenye fastened her seatbelt for her. Shielded by the one-way tinted windows, he finally dared to gently stroke the top of her head. “No need. My assistant already bought the ingredients.”

“Everything I sent over is there?”

“Yes.”

Sheng Huaining looked back with surprise. “You’re amazing. You seem to be able to do everything. I’m the lucky one.”

Then she turned the volume down so only she could hear, whispering, “In that case, making it public isn’t a big deal. Compared to you, I’m just a life mess. Mom would definitely be pleased.”

The car gradually merged onto the main road, the surroundings dimly lit, with the occasional neon light flashing past.

He Chenye kept his eyes on the road but stole glances at her from time to time, catching the pale, delicate face hidden in the shadows, lips moving as if mumbling something.

He smiled. “What are you mumbling about?”

“Not telling you.”

Sheng Huaining’s red lips curved into a faint smile, but it vanished the moment she turned her head away.

The thought of going public was quickly dismissed; she was no stranger to having other outstanding people around before.

Her parents had an extremely strong desire for control, or she wouldn’t have cut off all ties with Chen Huan so decisively without hesitation.

She leaned sideways, watching the reflection of the focused driver in the car window, her fingertips reaching out tentatively before withdrawing.

The two remained silent until they took the elevator up together.

Sheng Huaining tugged at her wet skirt and, as her finger touched his side, asked, “Do you want to… record one too?”

He Chenye was surprised but neither declined nor refused, following her lead to scan his index fingerprint.

Before parting, she hooked a finger around his, her gaze gentle. “I’ll take a shower and change clothes, then come upstairs. We have to exchange fingerprints later.”

Having dealt with the business world for years, He Chenye was skilled at reading people. How could he not notice the sudden dip in her mood on the way back?

Though his eyes stared straight ahead, his attention often wandered to the passenger side.

He couldn’t help but wonder if she had been mistreated at the party, but the thought felt inappropriate.

She could usually be eloquent in social settings but suddenly became tongue-tied at critical moments.

He Chenye chuckled softly, leaned over, and kissed Sheng Huaining’s forehead, saying, “Okay.”

Whether truly happy or forcing a smile, Sheng Huaining stood on tiptoe, dissatisfied. “Your mouth too.”

The elevator dinged and stopped, the doors sliding open.

He lifted his chin, worried she might lose her balance, and quickly supported her waist. “Go in quickly, come up early, don’t be like last time.”

Sheng Huaining’s cheeks flushed red, annoyed at his lack of tact, she slapped his hand off her waist and stormed inside, her high heels clicking loudly.

—

Angry as she was…

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Sheng Huaining didn’t dare delay. After removing her makeup and showering, she grabbed a dress to change into.

Yet, before putting it on, she hesitated.

It was her first birthday since being with He Chenye; she should treat it with some importance.

After much deliberation, she chose a dress both formal and somewhat casual.

The color was a soft purple, with sequins and three-dimensional flowers in the same shade, shoulders bare, legs long and straight, skin as white as frost.

But after all the fuss, just as she stepped out with her right foot, she stopped again and retrieved the feathered high-heeled sandals she had bought but never worn.

It was only one floor up, arriving within minutes.

Sheng Huaining carried a heavy gift box in her left hand—the birthday present from Luo Zhi: a bottle of top-grade Romanée-Conti.

Unlike last time, she confidently entered He Chenye’s home by entering the password.

Having changed shoes, she turned into the living room, greeted by the aroma of food, causing her to swallow hard. Her stomach growled in response.

In the kitchen, He Chenye had shed his tailored suit for loose, casual homewear with an apron tied around his waist—not the one she’d seen before but one likely picked by Xixi, with a style girls would like.

Sheng Huaining set down the wine, quietly sat at the kitchen island, resting her chin in her hand as she watched him move about the open kitchen.

He Chenye’s lips curved silently.

His movements were swift; soon, all the dishes Sheng Huaining had ordered were prepared, including a small raspberry mille-feuille.

Birthdays always called for a cake.

Throughout, Sheng Huaining remained silent, but to her surprise, He Chenye also stayed quiet as he placed the dishes and cutlery on the dining table.

She hopped down from the high stool, her heels clicking sharply as she hurried to the dining room, one hand on the table, the other waving in front of him. “Hey, you saw me come in. Why ignore me?”

He Chenye replied, “I wanted to see how long you could keep up the act.”

“I thought you really didn’t know I was here.” She murmured.

He turned sideways, glanced at her shoes, and said, “I heard you from the moment you stepped off the elevator.”

“That’s an exaggeration.” Her voice dropped, as if admitting she was clumsy, then quickly added, “Your house must have poor soundproofing.”

He Chenye didn’t argue, a smile tugging at his lips, his eyes filled with indulgent helplessness as he gestured for her to sit and eat.

The meal finished with less than half the Romanée-Conti left.

If Luo Zhi knew they had wasted it like this, she’d probably come after her with a knife.

Sheng Huaining put the half bottle away, deciding it was better not to bring it back. If Luo Zhi asked, she’d say she had taken it home.

She settled into the living room, her body burning from the alcohol. Nestling deep into the sofa, she sought relief.

After a long time of half-sleep, blurry shadows gradually approached her.

She heard a familiar yet distant voice whispering her name repeatedly: “Ningning… Ningning…”

She closed her eyes briefly then opened them again. Her right hand, soft and powerless, grasped the slightly open collar of the man beside her. “He Chenye, come closer.”

At her invitation, He Chenye sat beside her, his hands cool from just finishing in the kitchen, slowly taking hers in his.

Though her mind was foggy and weary, she was not unconscious.

Sitting up, her hands cupped his cheeks, then slowly slid down.

For a moment, she couldn’t tell if it was her fingertips burning or if his skin had warmed to her touch.

Her gaze traveled down to his rolled-up sleeves, revealing arms flushed bright red.

Her voice softened into a teasing murmur, “He Chenye, your face is red enough, but your arms too? What about other places? Are they the same?”

He sighed, hastily grabbed the hand that was about to slip into his shirt, intending to push her away and rest a bit to sober up.

But in the next second, the hand resting lightly on his collar suddenly tugged him closer.

Sheng Huaining usually only sipped a little wine, never like today—restless and unrestrained for the first time.

She used full strength, closing the distance between them until their ears almost touched.

Her lips brushed his neck. “We’re dating now. Why won’t you let me touch you?”

He Chenye’s Adam’s apple bobbed as regret flooded him.

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Had he known Sheng Huaining would be like this after drinking, he would have stopped her earlier to save himself the trouble.

After an unknown length of time, the person curled up on the sofa finally settled down, eyes closed as if asleep.

He pulled a thin blanket from a nearby armchair, covered her, exhaled deeply, and waited a moment before heading to the bathroom.

Water flowed from the faucet, varying in intensity as he washed his hands.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the frosted glass door being pushed open.

Sheng Huaining’s sleepy eyes called his name softly several times.

Seeing him startled, she reached out to hug his sturdy waist. Her cheek brushed his, and her messy hair grazed his chin, causing a slight ache.

He Chenye’s breath slowed and deepened under her teasing.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, his tone firmer. “Be good. Stop messing around.”

Barefoot, she stretched her arms to climb his neck. Her voice thick with wine was sweet and sticky, like cotton candy melting on the tongue.

“I’ll be good to you. I’ll try hard to make you like me.”

“I don’t… um…”

Before he could finish, her lips pressed against his, wild and chaotic kisses that sent tingles from his chest through his limbs.

His eyes darkened with desire. Wrapping his arms around her slender waist, he pulled her closer.

He lifted his chin, breaking the kiss.

Sheng Huaining blinked, tears glistening in her eyes, a trace of confusion in her gaze.

He gazed quietly at her, sliding his right hand from her waist to the nape of her neck, then to the soft flesh beneath her ear.

As he bent down, water droplets left from washing his face slid down his hair strands, falling onto Sheng Huaining’s face, causing her eyelashes to flutter reflexively.

She instantly sobered up a bit, calmly saying, “He Chenye, do you know? At tonight’s party, I was almost sold out. The drink Elya handed me—if I had drunk it, right now… I’d be in someone else’s bed.”

“Would you care?”

Before he finished, he grabbed her chin and kissed her fiercely, jealousy pouring out uncontrollably.

Sheng Huaining felt the intensity, forced to part her teeth as her tongue quickly sought his, leaving no room for retreat.

Their intimacy unfolded naturally. Her hand slipped under his shirt, roaming his bare back. His body tensed immediately.

After a moment, her hand grew bolder, barely touching, triggering alarm bells in his mind.

He Chenye understood her signals well; his reason wavered.

He lifted her waist, carrying her back to the living room, sitting on the sofa in that position.

Sheng Huaining bit her lip, feeling wronged. “You don’t want to? No birthday gift is one thing, but you’re rejecting me too.”

After several minutes of stalemate, He Chenye’s breath caught, and he chuckled.

At times like this, weak willpower was only natural.

He hugged her tightly, leaned over to open a drawer on the side table, and soon placed a diamond-studded bracelet on her delicate wrist.

Sheng Huaining raised her hand to her eyes, marveling at the sparkling light, momentarily stunned.

“Happy birthday.”

He said it again—the third time.

She lazily buried her face in his neck, first brushing her nose softly, then pressing warm lips there.

She whispered like lovers do, “He Chenye, I don’t like you like this.”

His throat tightened. After hesitating for several seconds, he stood and gently laid her flat on the sofa.

He spoke deliberately, “Let’s just stay like this, okay?”

Sheng Huaining was puzzled for a second, then clasped tightly the thin blanket she had tossed aside earlier.

Though he spoke as if asking, he lowered his head without waiting for her answer.

Lace was brushed aside, lips covered, and tongue caressed.

The magnolia, nourished and blooming splendidly, blossomed vividly.