Chapter Three: Have You Slept Together?

"Have you figured out who did it?" Yu Wen Si asked, a trace of worry in his voice. If someone was targeting Shen Yanlie and Oya was under threat, their family’s business would inevitably be affected as well.

Yanlie answered with a soft grunt and rose to his feet. He was like an ancient glacier—cold, stern, and unfeeling—as if nothing in this world could shake his composure.

So, she already had a boyfriend, and they would marry during this year’s May Day National Holiday… and yet he…

That night in Venice—the fragile barrier between them, her innocence, her tightness, the faint fragrance that clung to her skin, so clean and untouched by artificial scents. He could never forget her eyes, crystal clear yet carrying an indescribable allure.

“Hey, where are you going?” Yu Wen Si called out as he saw Shen Yanlie get up, instinctively following suit.

“A shower,” Shen Yanlie replied curtly, heading straight for the adjoining lounge of the president’s office.

Cold water cascaded over his body from the showerhead. The wound on his left arm was tightly wrapped in bandages. Memories of that Venetian night crashed ceaselessly through his mind. He tilted his head back, relishing the rare silence, broken only by the sound of water.

He had never liked forcing women, nor did he enjoy being with someone who didn’t desire him. That was his bottom line.

But to think, the woman from that night in Venice was her? Did she even know that, when she was just a girl, she had saved his life? Back then, he didn’t even have time to learn her name before fate pulled them apart.

And now, ten years later, she had appeared again—and saved him once more.

When Shen Yanlie emerged from the shower, Yu Wen Si had already turned on the lights in the office.

Drying his hair, Yanlie slowly walked toward the desk. His tall figure and calm face had shed their usual air of careless defiance, replaced by a gentle, enduring composure.

He spun the high-backed chair and sat down, pressing his fingers lightly to his temples as time slipped quietly through his grasp.

Yu Wen Si glanced at him indifferently and returned his attention to the stock information on his tablet. "Lu Corporation's stock keeps climbing. If we force a takeover now, people will talk."

After a while, seeing that Shen Yanlie had no intention of responding, Yu Wen Si fell silent as well. They had been friends since childhood, and Yu Wen Si was long accustomed to Shen Yanlie’s temper, so he didn’t mind.

Mai Xijun… Xiao Mai… Xiao Mai… He murmured her name softly, over and over, his right middle finger tracing his thin lips, lending him a hint of roguish charm, though less coldness than before.

Shen Yanlie interlaced his fingers on the desk, lips pressed in a line, picking up her file and giving it another cursory glance.

Mai Xijun, female, chief contracted designer at LOV…

His long fingers, nails neatly trimmed, traced her name at a measured pace, with a certain refined elegance. His fingertip paused on her photograph, gently caressing it. She was just as she had been over a decade ago—her baby fat gone, yet her skin still smooth and fair as that of a newborn.

"Yu Wen Si, go find Mai Xijun for me." The words were calm and unhurried, yet there was a wild unpredictability between his brows, an awe that could not be ignored.

Yu Wen Si blinked in surprise, lifting his eyelids before a faint, ambiguous smile curved his lips. "Why do you want to find her? And… did you sleep with her yet?"

With a loud smack, a shriek worthy of a pig being slaughtered rang out as the folder crashed to the ground, landing squarely on Yu Wen Si's forehead.

Heaven may forgive the sins of fate, but not those we bring upon ourselves.