Fang Yuan's heart skipped a beat, yet she stubbornly kept her eyes shut.
Now she rather regretted pretending to be drunk.
Just as Jiang Cheng had guessed, she did feel something for him.
But when she thought of her daughter, Fang Yuan still found his behavior inappropriate.
Leaving aside the time Jiang Cheng had mistaken her for Zhou Ying.
This time, knowing full well she was Fang Yuan, she really wanted to see what he intended to do with her.
She felt the tip of Jiang Cheng's finger hover above her brow, burning hot.
Yet the kiss she both dreaded and desired never came.
Seeing Fang Yuan's composure crack, Jiang Cheng couldn't help a low chuckle.
His hand left her altogether.
The plastic bottle on the nightstand crinkled softly.
Through her lashes Fang Yuan watched him pour water into a glass, his profile thrown into sharp relief by the bedside lamp.
"Looks like you really are drunk," he murmured as if to himself.
The words were just loud enough for the feigning Fang Yuan to hear. "Since you're drunk, that's perfect—tomorrow you won't remember a thing."
The remark made her pulse quicken again.
She sensed the bedside lamp being dimmed.
Unable to keep up the act, Fang Yuan bolted upright, cheeks on fire.
She snatched a pillow and hugged it to her chest like a flimsy barricade.
Jiang Cheng was casually rolling up his cuffs; the light carved the hard line of his wrist, and his unruffled ease only flustered her more.
He clearly wasn't preparing to sleep with her—he was deliberately teasing her with every move.
"I—I'm not drunk…" Before she could finish, Jiang Cheng pressed her back onto the pillow.
His fingers slid along her neck to her collarbone, toying with the Cartier necklace he'd once given Zhou Ying. "So eager to get up? I haven't even undressed yet."
Fang Yuan's face exploded in heat.
"Why undress?? Get out first—I want to sleep."
His nose was almost touching hers now, gaze lingering on her lips.
"I know you want to sleep… you already said so."
"I…" Realizing, she flushed crimson. "No, I said give me water, not give me sleep…"
She struggled hard and accidentally brushed against something indescribable.
Both froze; the sound of Jiang Cheng swallowing rang loud in the hush.
"We're done for," he laughed, instead of retreating pressing even closer.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Fang Yuan tried to jerk away as if shocked, but he pinned her.
"Jiang Cheng!" she finally found her voice. "I didn't mean it—get out. I'm calling Zhou Ying."
The threat did nothing to him.
"Call her? Aren't you drunk? Auntie, you don't want your daughter seeing you like this, do you?"
The words sent visible tension across her face.
Of course she didn't want Zhou Ying to know.
She blustered, "I haven't done anything—what's there to fear?"
"Really? But you kept burrowing into my arms…"
Her knuckles whitened around the pillow.
Suddenly she felt, at her age, what was there to panic about?
"You're not thinking I'm seducing you, are you?"
The question was razor-sharp.
Though she looked young, she was still the elder in status.
An ordinary young man might have been scared off.
But who was Jiang Cheng?
Armed with countless skills, including the Sit Like a Divine Bell technique that kept him unshakable in any situation.
He grinned and leaned in, startling her backward.
"Isn't that exactly it? Why else pretend to be drunk?"
The words drained the color from her face.
She realized how wretched she looked—hair disheveled, collar askew, like a thoroughly bullied little wife.
Sensing she was losing ground, she retorted, "I faked it just to see what you'd do."
Jiang Cheng burst out laughing.
"So that's it. Then aren't you disappointed I didn't pounce like a ravenous wolf just now?"
"You're overthinking it. You're Zhou Ying's boyfriend; I never had any designs on you. On the contrary, you've been hinting at me again and again—I'd like to ask what you mean by that. Could it be you really do have some idea about me??"
Although rationally Fang Yuan knew she shouldn't confess these thoughts aloud.
But right now, the alcohol made it impossible for her to hold back.
In Fang Yuan's mind, Zhou Ying and Jiang Cheng had little chance of lasting in the end.
But for the moment, Jiang Cheng was already the best man at Zhou Ying's side.
Not only wealthy, he could pave her future.
So as long as Jiang Cheng didn't openly humiliate Zhou Ying.
No matter what he did behind her back, Fang Yuan would pretend not to see.
Same as always—at worst, after this time she would simply never appear before Jiang Cheng again.
Jiang Cheng said nothing; he even reached up to take the camel-colored coat hanging at the head of the bed.
He shook it out slowly and draped it directly over Fang Yuan's body.
Looking down at her from above.
His sudden tenderness left her feeling as powerless as if she'd swung a punch into cotton.
She snatched the coat and wrapped it tight, but while she bent her head to fasten the belt she heard a soft laugh.
"What are you laughing at!" She jerked her head up.
"Laughing at your self-delusion—do I look like I'm short of women?"
Seeing Jiang Cheng's face chill instantly, Fang Yuan's own turned pale in a flash.
Her confidence, once sky-high, was crushed into the valley by Jiang Cheng in an instant.
She even felt her self-respect being trampled underfoot.
The man before her bore no resemblance to the gentle, considerate young gentleman she knew.
This aloof figure that brutally ground her self-worth underfoot made Fang Yuan suspect she was seeing Jiang Cheng's truest self.
At this moment Fang Yuan felt aggrieved and stripped of dignity; her nose even stung with the threat of tears.
Jiang Cheng was right—he wasn't lacking women; how could he ever take a woman her age to heart?
Even if his earlier behavior had been ambiguous, it was probably just a passing whim.
The moment she displeased him he could effortlessly ruin everything, ruthlessly belittle and suppress her.
She had endured countless such scenes over the past eighteen years.
But now she couldn't utter a single word.
If she were alone, she might have retorted, might have tried to preserve her worthless pride.
But Jiang Cheng was Zhou Ying's boyfriend, and she herself couldn't give Zhou Ying a better future.
Jiang Cheng could.
So no matter how aggrieved she felt, she could only endure it.
Fang Yuan lowered her head. "I understand. I was drunk, talking nonsense. Forget it..."
She pulled the coat tighter, lay down again, and turned her face away, refusing to look at Jiang Cheng.
The sudden collapse of their talk plunged the room into boundless silence.
Outside, the rain grew heavier; Jiang Cheng's shadow loomed over Fang Yuan.
In that silence her eyes reddened further.
Amid his quiet breathing she even caught the scent of red wine and aftershave he had left on her coat.
In the hush she suddenly heard Jiang Cheng's low voice.
"Have you ever wondered why I placed you at Jiang Tai, why I keep appearing in front of you even though I know how much you resemble Zhou Ying?"
Fang Yuan's breath caught; a thought she shouldn't have rose again.
Though her body stayed still, her eyes flickered.
Even her breathing turned cautious as she anticipated what Jiang Cheng would say next.
"At first I thought it was only because you look so alike that I kept confusing you, but the more we met the more I realized you're far more stubborn than she is."
Seeing Fang Yuan's shoulders tremble, Jiang Cheng hooked a faint smile.
Though she was shrewder than Zhou Ying and had seen more of life.
She had known only one relationship.
Before a seasoned charmer like Jiang Cheng she was clay in his hands.
"In fact, I know every move you make at Company Name. When those veterans in the Finance Department tried to trip you up, you were clearly flustered yet still pretended to handle it with ease."
He gave a soft laugh. "I know it hasn't been easy for you..."