Chapter Thirty-Seven: Into the Wolf’s Den

Mai Xijun pretended as though nothing had happened, going about her work as usual, pushing all rumors to the back of her mind. Yet, Shen Yanlie had not shown up for several days. Since that night when she accompanied Luo Youcong to the banquet, Luo Youcong had not sought her out alone again, nor inquired about anything, acting as if nothing ever transpired.

What frustrated Mai Xijun was that after Luo Youcong took her to the banquet—where Shen Yanlie struck Lu Chengfeng—the tangled relations among her and the three men became the talk of the entire company. There was no one unaware of it. Yet, she hardly knew Lu Chengfeng; even if he stood before her now, she might not recognize him.

Well, at least she had a brief moment of peace. After she slapped He Jingjing twice, He Jingjing stopped bothering her. However… the company issued bonuses and organized a training trip to France, but He Jingjing’s name was not among those selected…

“Mai Xijun, prepare yourself these next two days. The day after tomorrow, you’ll come to Paris with me.” After the meeting, Luo Youcong grabbed Mai Xijun’s elbow in front of many colleagues.

Mai Xijun’s face darkened but quickly recovered, “Wasn’t it set for the sixteenth? We’re leaving early?”

“No, you’ll go ahead with me. No need to come to work these couple days—just rest. I’ll pick you up the day after tomorrow.” With that, Luo Youcong turned and left, not waiting for Mai Xijun’s nod or refusal.

Suddenly, the silence behind her was so absolute she could hear even a mosquito’s hum, and Mai Xijun’s steps felt heavier than ever, almost too much for her to bear.

Now, she truly could not defend herself. As for the events at the banquet, few from the company had witnessed them firsthand. Rumors spread, twisting and growing, so that by the hundred-and-first retelling, the story had long changed.

Shen Yanlie, at the banquet, spent ten million to buy her ring, and declared her his woman.

Lu Chengfeng had kissed her at the banquet—prompting Shen Yanlie to hit him. She had been brought by Luo Youcong. The logic and drama of it all left Mai Xijun marveling at how absurd life could be.

Sometimes, rumors are like a blunt knife—merciless, slicing at the depths of one’s heart, scraping bit by bit, neither killing nor granting relief.

Whispers swirled behind her, but Mai Xijun no longer cared to explain. Raising her head, she found herself locking eyes not with any stranger, but with Xue Lizan, who gazed at her steadily.

Mai Xijun’s heart skipped a beat. There was no Shen Yanlie to shield her this time, but she must face it herself. So, she strode forward, passing Xue Lizan without a glance, carrying the paperwork for the French training, and left.

As usual, after work, Mai Xijun stopped by her regular supermarket, picking up several bags of frozen dumplings, some tomato sauce, drinks, and a few ready-to-eat items. Tomorrow and the day after, she would stay home.

Suddenly, she felt like a deflated balloon, a wilted flower, drained and lifeless.

She hefted her bag, habitually pulling out her small flashlight. Yet as she stepped onto the first stair, the entire staircase illuminated.

Huh? Who replaced the bulb? It was so bright.

The voice-activated lights from the first to the third floor had always been broken, but now, they were all fixed? Though many had complained, no one ever came to repair them. Since Mai Xijun moved in, the lights had never worked; over time, people got used to it, no longer grumbling, bringing their own flashlights for the brightest journey home.

Puzzled, Mai Xijun pulled out her keys, only for the door to open ahead of her.

Her heart thudded—she nearly lost her soul in fright. “Ah! You scared me to death!”

She gritted her teeth, but when she saw the man before her wearing her apron, her words died on her lips.

“Why are you so late today?” Shen Yanlie asked as he made space for her to pass, then closed the door behind her.

“How did you get into my apartment? And why do you have my keys?” Mai Xijun reflexively questioned, but seeing the table full of dishes, she turned abruptly, finding herself face-to-face with Shen Yanlie, close enough to meet his gaze.

Mai Xijun had never realized a man’s eyes could be so beautiful—single-lidded, with a serene depth that made her lips involuntarily press together. At this distance, she could see every detail of his flawless skin, so clean she couldn’t even spot a pore.

What a devil…

She sighed inwardly, lowering her gaze, unsure what to do. Shen Yanlie reached out and pulled her into his arms.

This was her own home, yet she felt like a guest, while he moved about with such ease.

“I’m already inside your house; do you really need to ask where the keys came from, hmm?” His soft “hmm” was deliberately drawn out, his deep voice seductive and alluring.

Such proximity, such a handsome man before her, and she herself newly heartbroken—was he not taking advantage of her vulnerability? Truly a playboy, a master of romance…

“I don’t care where you got the keys, but don’t tell me you replaced the bulbs in the hallway.” Mai Xijun deliberately changed the subject, pushing his hands from her waist and heading into the apartment.

Exhausted, sleepy, thirsty, and hungry—she was utterly down-and-out.

Shen Yanlie raised an eyebrow, headed to the kitchen, and brought out the soup, setting it on the coffee table. “Eat quickly, then accompany me somewhere.”

“What?” Mai Xijun shouted through her closed door as she changed out of her work clothes into a comfortable cotton dress.

When she heard nothing from outside, she hurriedly tidied up her discarded clothes and opened the door, only to be caught off guard by what happened next.

With a thud, she found herself pressed against the wall, his hand resting on her newly-straightened waist. Unexpectedly, her head hit the wall, the pain bringing tears to her eyes—she felt as if she might have a concussion.

This was her home, wasn’t it? Why did it feel like she’d walked into a wolf’s den?

“What are you doing?!” Mai Xijun shouted, but before she could finish her sentence, her words were stolen—his soft lips claimed hers, dominating and relentless, invading her entirely.