The villa's ownership transfer and basic renovations were proceeding efficiently and silently.
Yan Hanxie did not bring up the topic of "living together" again, as if that had truly been only a sudden suggestion, dissolved by Zong Yi's silent resistance.
But her habit of choosing items in "pairs" did not stop. Instead, as the villa's renovation progressed, it became even more frequent and… more justified.
"For the master bathroom sink, a double-sink design has better usability. No need to fight for it in the morning." She sent the designer's renderings, highlighting the sink area.
"For the walk-in closet partitions, according to the custom plan we looked at last time, your section will be by the south-facing window. The lighting is good." She forwarded the confirmation email for the custom cabinets to Zong Yi.
"The empty space on the east side of the courtyard—I had it reserved. Later we could make a small flower bed there, or… if you want to grow some vegetables, that's fine too." She even sent a photo of the empty patch of land, the afterglow of the sunset dyeing the soil a warm golden color.
Every message, every decision naturally incorporated Zong Yi's existence into the plan.
The tone was casual, the reasons sufficient (at least on the surface), as if Zong Yi moving in was already a settled fact that needed no discussion.
Zong Yi tried to protest, tried to draw boundaries, but every weak struggle was easily dissolved by Yan Hanxie with more concrete and "reasonable" arrangements, or simply met with silence, making Zong Yi's doubts feel like fists hitting cotton—completely powerless.
She felt like a frog slowly boiled in warm water. Even though she sensed the danger, the gradually rising temperature and the seemingly comfortable environment numbed her nerves, causing her to lose the strength and… determination to jump out.
The turning point (or another trap) appeared on an early winter weekend.
A sudden cold wave swept through the city. Temperatures plummeted, and rain fell continuously.
Because of a crucial cross-province cooperation negotiation for the "Spark" project, Zong Yi had already been on a business trip for an entire week, exhausted both physically and mentally.
The negotiations finally reached a preliminary agreement on Friday afternoon. She booked the last flight back, arriving late at night, with the rain pouring heavily.
On the way from the airport to the city, she received a call from Yan Hanxie.
Not the usual message, but a direct phone call.
"You've landed?" Yan Hanxie's voice came through the receiver. The background was quiet, faintly accompanied by the sound of rain tapping against glass.
"Mm, just got into the car." Zong Yi rubbed her aching temple, her voice hoarse with exhaustion.
"The property management just notified me that due to extreme weather and line maintenance, there will be a temporary power and heating outage in the entire district from tonight until noon tomorrow." Yan Hanxie's tone was calm, stating the facts. "Your building is included in the range."
Zong Yi froze for a moment and looked out at the torrential rain and blurred streetlights outside the window.
Power and heating outage?
In weather like this?
"I… I'll find a hotel." She said it almost instinctively.
"The rain is too heavy. It's not safe on the road." Yan Hanxie's voice remained steady, yet carried an unquestionable tone. "And at this time, the better hotels in the city are probably already full. The villa's electrical system is independent, so it won't be affected. The heating is also normal."
She paused, seemingly giving Zong Yi a few seconds to digest the information before continuing. Her voice lowered slightly, carrying a trace of gentle fatigue that was hard to notice.
"Come over. The guest room has always been prepared, and everything is complete. You just came back from a business trip—you need to rest well."
The reason was sufficient, the concern reasonable, even thoughtfully considering her exhaustion and safety.
Zong Yi held the phone, her fingertips cold.
The rain outside the window wildly washed over the glass, slicing the world into a blur of cold light and shadow.
The driver quietly drove in the front seat. The heater was on high, yet it could not disperse the sudden chill rising in her heart—mixed with resistance and a faint, secret longing (or perhaps heat?).
Go to a hotel?
At this hour, in this kind of weather, dragging a suitcase to face a possibly full front desk and a cold unfamiliar room?
Or… go to that "home" where space had already been reserved for her, items prepared for her, and perhaps… someone waiting?
Her rational mind screamed danger, reminding her that this was another carefully designed trap, advancing step by step.
But the double exhaustion of body and mind, the bleak wind and rain outside, and the steady voice coming through the phone that inexplicably made her feel at ease intertwined like three twisted ropes, binding her tightly and dragging her toward that known trap.
"…Send me the address." She heard her own dry voice say, as if it did not belong to her.
On the other end of the phone, Yan Hanxie seemed to let out an almost inaudible sigh of relief.
"Mm. Be careful on the way." After saying that, she hung up.
The address arrived quickly, accompanied by a detailed entry password and garage access code.
The car turned direction in the rainy night and drove toward the suburbs.
The rain showed no sign of weakening. Few cars were on the road, and the halos of the streetlights blurred in the rain, creating a hazy scene.
By the time they arrived at the villa, it was already close to midnight.
The heavy carved iron gate silently slid open after the password was entered, and the car drove into the underground garage. The lights automatically turned on, warm and bright.
The garage was spacious and tidy. Beside the reserved parking spot, there was indeed an empty space.
Zong Yi got out of the car dragging her suitcase, the cold air making her shiver.
Following the instructions, she found the internal elevator, entered the password, and the elevator rose steadily, stopping on the first floor.
When the elevator doors opened, warmth mixed with the faint scent typical after a new renovation—blending wood and high-end paint—rushed toward her.
The lighting was a soft warm yellow, illuminating a spacious entrance hall.
A soft and thick carpet covered the floor. An abstract painting hung on the wall. In the corner sat a lush monstera plant.
Everything was brand new and spacious, yet the details revealed the owner's exceptional taste and… preparations made to welcome someone.
Yan Hanxie did not appear in the entrance hall.
Zong Yi changed into slippers, dragging her suitcase, and stood somewhat blankly at the entrance of the enormous living room.
The living room had an extremely high ceiling. Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows was the pitch-black courtyard, rainwater winding down the glass.
Inside it was warm like spring. Some furniture had already been placed. The style was the modern minimalism she was familiar with, yet compared to Yan Hanxie's previous apartment, there were many more soft fabrics and warm wooden elements.
"Second floor, first room on the right."
Yan Hanxie's voice came from upstairs, not loud, yet clearly penetrating the quiet space.
Zong Yi raised her head and saw Yan Hanxie wearing that smoke-gray silk pajama set (the one chosen at the salon), with a cashmere cardigan of the same color draped over it. She stood by the stair railing on the second floor, looking down at her.
Her long hair hung loosely over her shoulders, her face without makeup. Under the warm yellow lighting, she appeared soft in a homely, completely unguarded way.
"There are new towels and toiletries in the bathroom cabinet. There are pajamas in the wardrobe—the tags haven't been removed yet. They should fit." Yan Hanxie continued speaking, her tone as ordinary as a hotel receptionist giving instructions. "There's warm milk in the kitchen. If you're hungry, there are simple ingredients in the refrigerator—you can make something yourself. I'm going to rest first."
After saying that, she did not wait for Zong Yi to respond. She turned and walked toward the master bedroom deeper in the second-floor corridor, gently closing the door.
Clean and decisive.
No extra pleasantries. No deliberate intimacy. She did not even come downstairs to "welcome" her.
As if Zong Yi were truly just an ordinary guest who had no choice but to stay for one night due to objective circumstances.
This instead allowed Zong Yi's tightly wound nerves to relax slightly.
Perhaps… Was it really just a temporary stay?
Was she overthinking it?
Following the instructions, she went up to the second floor and found the first guest room on the right.
When she pushed open the door, the room was indeed exactly as Yan Hanxie had said—everything fully prepared.
The room was not small, with an independent bathroom and a small balcony.
The bedding was in high-end gray and white tones, soft and fluffy.
In the wardrobe hung several brand-new homeware and pajamas, the tags still attached, and the sizes were indeed hers.
In the bathroom, towels, bath towels, and toiletries were all provided. There was even a set of unopened sample skincare products from the brand she usually used.
So thoughtful that it was… alarming.
She took a hot shower and changed into soft pajamas.
The fatigue eased somewhat under the rush of hot water, but her mind was unusually clear.
She walked to the window and pulled the curtain open a little.
Outside, the wind and rain were still raging together, the trees in the courtyard swaying wildly in the darkness.
And indoors, it was warm, quiet, comfortable to the point of being unreal.
She thought of her apartment, which at this moment might be pitch-black and cold.
She thought of Yan Hanxie standing on the stairs, calmly arranging everything.
She thought of those "double" items, and this guest room that had long been prepared for her.
Was all of this really "temporary" and "coincidental"?
Or was it that from viewing the house, to choosing items, to tonight's sudden "power and heating outage," it had all been one link after another, a carefully planned play designed only to "invite" her into this villa?
The thought made the bottom of Zong Yi's heart turn cold, yet it was accompanied by a trace of excitement so intense it was almost trembling—something she herself despised.
She walked out of the room, hesitated for a moment, and still went downstairs.
The kitchen light was on. On the island counter there really was a cup of warm milk, and beside it a small plate of cookies.
The milk cup was precisely one of the pair of golden ripple bone-china cups they had taken a liking to at the salon.
Zong Yi picked up the milk. The warmth passed through the cup wall to her palm. She took a sip. It was smooth and sweet, warming all the way down to her stomach.
Holding the cup, she walked to the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room and looked at the storm raging outside. Indoors and outdoors were two completely different worlds.
One cold and violent.
One warm and peaceful.
And the one who had brought her from the former into the latter was Yan Hanxie.
That woman whose mind was deep, who advanced step by step, who made her both afraid and… unable to resist.
Very light footsteps came from the stairs.
Zong Yi turned around.
Yan Hanxie had come out again at some unknown time. She was still wearing her pajamas, with a cardigan casually draped over them. In her hand she also held a cup of milk, using the other cup of the same golden ripple bone-china pair.
She walked to Zong Yi's side and also looked toward the curtain of rain outside.
"The rain is really heavy," she said softly.
"Mm," Zong Yi responded.
The two of them stood side by side in front of the window, each holding a cup of warm milk, watching the stormy night outside.
Neither of them spoke.
But what filled the air was no longer probing or tension, but a strange, quiet peace, as if such a night, such a moment together, was the most natural thing in the world.
After a long while, Yan Hanxie finally spoke again. Her voice was very soft, almost drowned out by the rain:
"The guest room… are you used to it?"
"…It's very good," Zong Yi answered quietly.
"That's good." Yan Hanxie paused, then turned her head slightly to look at Zong Yi's profile. "Rest early. Tomorrow… the rain should stop."
After saying that, she finished the remaining milk in her cup, turned around, and slowly walked upstairs.
Zong Yi stood where she was, listening as her footsteps disappeared on the second floor. She lowered her head to look at the milk still more than half full in her hand, and the delicate golden ripples on the cup wall.
Outside the window, the wind and rain continued.
But somewhere in her heart, the stormy waves that had risen because of resistance and unease seemed, in this warm milk, this quiet night, and that woman's seemingly plain yet ever-present thoughtful arrangements, to be gradually calming down, settling into something more complex, something harder to describe… resignation, or perhaps another form of silent consent.
The road to pursuing a wife is long?
Perhaps the hunter was no longer in a hurry to capture her prey.
She simply patiently arranged for the prey a warm, comfortable nest that was hard to escape.
Then she quietly waited.
Waiting for the prey to walk in by herself and grow used to everything here.
Until in the end, she could no longer leave and would no longer want to.
—
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