"Ah… don't drink too much, it's not good for you."
"Relax, even if I wanted to drink more, no one would let me. I only tasted a little."
The moment the words "only tasted" came out, Wang Yuyan couldn't stand to listen any longer; her cheeks blazed as if on fire, even her neck was tinged with a faint crimson.
She gave Jiang Cheng a soft, reproachful tap, blinking at him to stop talking nonsense.
If she weren't afraid of spoiling his flirting, she would have crouched right in front of him and shown him exactly what "only tasted" meant.
She didn't dare look at the screen again or ask a single question; she simply bent obediently and pressed two feather-light kisses onto the back of Jiang Cheng's hand.
Her movements were so cautious it seemed she feared disturbing something; her lips trembled faintly as they touched his skin.
After the kisses she let go at once, turning away so gently that her skirt barely rippled, and tiptoed out.
Only when she'd walked several steps did Wang Yuyan raise her hands to cover her burning cheeks, leaning against a corridor pillar to breathe softly.
This man… he's absolutely wicked.
Yet the fact that Jiang Cheng had noticed her and motioned her inside instead of sending her away curved her lips in a secret, unstoppable smile.
Old habits from her days as a Private Butler at Luxury Hotel made her first instinct wonder what Jiang Cheng would need when he woke.
Right now she felt she should warm his favorite Keemun Black Tea and pair it with freshly baked Red-Bean Buns.
With that thought, Wang Yuyan headed through the Courtyard House toward the central courtyard.
Just before reaching the main hall she saw Xia Li standing beneath the eaves, a half-damp cloth in hand, carefully wiping the carved patterns on a pillar.
A faint tea fragrance drifted from the kitchen; two Blue-and-White Lidded Bowls already sat on the stone table, and the Red-Bean Buns on the nearby plate were still steaming.
Even the chopsticks were laid out in perfect order—"chopsticks left, spoon right."
"Miss Wang, you're awake?" Xia Li lifted her head, voice flat. "Mr. Jiang went to the front study; he said to have breakfast together once you've washed up."
Wang Yuyan nodded, a faint sense of loss flickering through her.
She had wanted to show off her strengths through service, yet Xia Li had arranged everything already.
Both women knew exactly what had happened the night before, but by unspoken agreement neither mentioned it.
"Thank you. I'll wait and eat with Jiang Cheng once he's finished."
After speaking, Wang Yuyan walked along the corridor toward the rear yard, wanting a good look at this Rear Sea area Courtyard House.
The farther she went, the more amazed she became: the pomegranate trees in the courtyard were lush and leafy, koi swam in the fish-tank beneath them, and the placement of rockery and flowing water blocked the northwest draft perfectly.
Judging by the Eastern feng shui she'd studied in Switzerland, this was an excellent "gather the wind and accumulate the qi" layout.
The main house was spacious and grand; the "Pine-Crane Longevity" carvings on the old elm doors and windows were exquisitely detailed, clearly the work of former imperial craftsmen.
On the wall hung not some fashionable, expensive oil painting but a simply mounted vertical scroll of landscape.
It bore the private seal of a late master of calligraphy and painting, inscribed with four Slender-Gold Script characters: "Clear Wind, Bright Moon."
What secretly startled her most were the pair of white-marble lion cubs outside the study door. Barely a foot tall, their carving was so superb that even the curls of their manes seemed alive.
She had seen plenty of fine pieces at Luxury Hotel.
A feng-shui master had once told her that such "small but exquisite" guardian ornaments weren't something money alone could buy.
Only someone with an exceptionally strong personal aura could control them.
Ordinary people living here would be crushed by the energy—at best sleeping poorly, at worst plagued by misfortune.
But when she recalled the special-plate red flag car Jiang Cheng had driven yesterday, Wang Yuyan decided she was overthinking.
Jiang Cheng clearly wasn't an ordinary man; he could definitely handle this house.
After breakfast Wang Yuyan said she wanted to go out.
Jiang Cheng frowned at that.
He liked sensible women, but too much sensibility felt oddly distant.
Reading his expression, Wang Yuyan explained, "I want to visit my aunt."
"Your aunt?"
"I remember you said your parents divorced when you were little…"
Wang Yuyan nodded. "After the divorce my mother hardly contacted me. It wasn't until after college that she started calling."
She lowered her eyes, fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes. "You know, we only had two rooms at home; Dad gave the bigger one to my stepmother and their child, so I slept on the living-room sofa. In winter the sofa was drafty; I'd wrap myself in two threadbare quilts, listening to my little brother's laughter inside, and miss my mom so much."
"Once I couldn't bear it anymore. I saved half a month of pocket change and called my mother from the public phone at the alley entrance. After two rings my brother answered."
"He shouted, 'Mom! It's my birthday today, come blow out the candles!' I'd never had a birthday, but he was my little brother; I was happy for him. I told him through the phone, 'Happy birthday, little brother.'"
"As soon as I finished, Mom impatiently asked what I wanted."
"I told her, 'I'm cold sleeping on the sofa, Dad won't buy me new clothes, my living expenses are never enough…' Before I could finish, Mom scolded me: 'Don't talk such gloom! You're grown; can't you handle a little hardship?'"
"After that, I wanted to plead again, but the receiver only gave a 'beep-beep' busy tone."
"From middle school through college, whenever I was desperate I called a few times, but she'd either say 'we have no money' or simply not answer. Then, a year after graduation, Mom suddenly started contacting me frequently. At first I was thrilled—my mom finally remembered me."
"But after a few calls I understood: whenever Mom looked for me, it was always 'My birthday's coming, buy me a new bag,' or 'Your brother wants the latest phone; you earn good money, get it for him.' Apart from asking me to buy things, she never once asked, 'How are you doing?'"
Jiang Cheng's hand settled gently on her shoulder, warm and reassuring.
When Wang Yuyan looked up, her eyes were red, but she tugged the corners of her mouth. "Now I don't care anymore. My aunt's different—whenever she can see me she secretly slips me money, buys me clothes…"
"When I was in college my dad wouldn't pay tuition, so I had to work part-time for fees and living expenses. Sometimes I really couldn't manage; I contacted my aunt, and without a word she paid my tuition. My own parents, on the other hand…"
Jiang Cheng understood without her spelling it out.
He already knew what kind of man Wang Yuyan's father was.
He hadn't expected her birth mother to be the same—never a single call while she grew up.
The moment she graduated, suddenly you remember you have a daughter?
Isn't that the classic case: raise her for nothing, then expect free filial piety when she's grown?
Poor girl—unloved by mom, unwanted by dad.
Jiang Cheng pulled Wang Yuyan into his arms and comforted her, then said, "I'll have someone drive you. Tonight I'm dining with President Lei; I'll pick you up afterwards and we'll go together…"
Wang Yuyan blinked, her heart giving a soft leap.
President Lei—she didn't know exactly who, but anyone Jiang Cheng addressed as "President" and dined with alone was no ordinary figure.
It wouldn't be a gathering of friends; it would be something formal.
And he intended to take her.
Not keep her hidden in a private courtyard, but bring her into his world.