Volume One, Chapter 12: Stirring Desires

Nie Xingyan was deeply hurt and didn’t even notice that his voice sounded somewhat different. Sniffling, she heard him ask a question, and tears welled up in her eyes again, her voice choked with sobs and tinged with crying, “Ling Dongyan, am I really that terrible? I can’t do anything right.”

She had been furious enough to go to the Ling family and overturn a table, nearly getting herself into serious trouble. She wanted to be fierce, but all she could muster was powerless rage.

Thinking of this only brought back the flood of grievances, and she cried even harder, “I couldn’t even hold onto my last memories with Dad...”

Tears mingled with rain, streaming down her face as she once again let out a heart-wrenching cry in the pouring rain.

This was the first time since they reunited that she called him by name—no longer the distant, cold “Mr. Ling” she had used before.

Curled up on the steps, Ling Dongyan half-crouched beside her, looking up at her.

“You’re wonderful. Your father surely knows that,” he said sincerely, pulling out a handkerchief to offer her.

That had always been what he believed.

The rain poured harder, soaking them both, so he found a spot beside her and sat down, not bothering to stop her tears, just letting her vent as he stayed by her side.

Perhaps from crying so long, she hallucinated for a moment—when she took the handkerchief, she saw a flicker of tenderness in Ling Dongyan’s usually cold eyes.

But she no longer cared.

Crying had made her feel a lot better.

After a few sobs, she banished the ridiculous thought that had popped into her head, rubbing her nose hard with the handkerchief, her voice thick with nasal congestion, “I owe you one again today.”

Having cried alone here most of the day, her pent-up grievances and resentment had finally eased.

Looking back, she realized just how reckless she had been, rushing to the Ling family on her own. Luckily, he had appeared just in time; otherwise, the consequences would have been unimaginable.

The rain intensified, and her mood softened significantly. Ling Dongyan tilted his umbrella toward where she sat.

“Are you hungry?”

The wind and rain were so fierce the umbrella barely shielded them, especially since his weight was leaning toward her side, leaving half of his body soaked through.

From morning until now, they had been arguing nonstop, and he hadn’t had a drop of water all day. After crying several times, her tightly wound nerves finally relaxed, leaving her exhausted and hungry.

She didn’t reply, but her stomach gave a loud, protesting growl.

“A little.” She sniffled, her nose dripping.

She quickly turned her head to wipe it, embarrassed to always be so clumsy around Ling Dongyan.

Ling Dongyan took the handkerchief from her without hesitation or disgust, tucking it casually into the pocket of his suit trousers.

She reached out her hand. “Let’s go. I’ll change into clean clothes, and then you have to treat me to a meal.”

He said it unabashedly, and she thought she must have misheard.

Seeing her not move, Ling Dongyan’s brow lifted slightly.

“Didn’t you just say you owe me one? What, you’re going to back out now and just say thanks?”

His words made her feel a bit embarrassed.

Yesterday at the hotel, she had eaten silently and run off; today, she had been caught red-handed.

Nie Xingyan’s cheeks flushed slightly. She wanted to say something but felt any words would sound hollow, so she remained silent.

When she stood up, she felt dizzy and wobbled. Instantly, Ling Dongyan’s swift arm wrapped gently around her waist.

“Are you okay?”

She shook her head. The cold wind cut through her clothes, making her shiver.

His warm palm pressed against her waist, chasing away the chill, then quickly withdrew once she was steady.

“Thank you.”

The sound of rain and wind howled in her ears, and before she could catch her breath, the world spun with countless halos and ripples of light, then began to sway.

She barely had time to speak before she went limp and collapsed.

——

Liu Hong wasn’t sure if her luck was good or bad.

In less than two days, she had seen this girl twice—both times unconscious.

Yesterday, she was drugged and brought in for an injection; today, caught in the rain, she had a sudden high fever needing treatment.

As Ling Dongyan’s private doctor, she rarely saw him more than once a month, but since returning to the country, she saw him every day. The high salary he paid was finally worth it.

“President Ling, Miss Nie’s condition is a psychosomatic reaction brought on by excessive emotional distress. I’ve given her an antipyretic injection. If she sleeps well, she’ll be fine.”

Seeing Ling Dongyan’s serious expression and the worry in his eyes, Liu Hong added, “Mainly, she’s also on her period right now, so her immunity is weaker. With such emotional upheaval, her body just can’t cope.”

After prescribing some fever medicine and giving other instructions, Liu Hong left.

Ling Dongyan sat by the bedside, straightening the blanket over her again.

Nie Xingyan’s brow remained furrowed as she slept restlessly.

Dark circles shadowed beneath her eyes, the corners red and swollen from crying so hard, and even in her dreams, she sobbed now and then.

She must be feeling deeply wronged.

Ling Dongyan’s gentle, lingering gaze darkened with a fierce resolve.

“I won’t let go of a single person who made you cry. I promise.”

Over the years, Ling Jianfu had lived quite comfortably, indulging in mistresses and illegitimate daughters, forgetting entirely the benefactor who had helped him build his fortune.

Like a grasshopper after autumn, he wouldn’t last long.

His fingers brushed softly across her pale cheek.

“Xingyan, I promise this will be the last time I let you cry.”

It sounded like he was speaking to himself as much as to her.

Nie Xingyan was awakened by hunger.

She lay on a bed at least three meters wide, dressed in clean clothes, thirsty and famished, with a cooling patch on her forehead.

Opening the door, she saw a spacious glass corridor about waist-high, and not far away, a huge floor-to-ceiling window.

Outside, the most famous landmark of Jingbei City—the Twin Towers—stood prominently.

The night lights dazzled, the skyscrapers along the coast illuminated brightly, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the sea surface.

A few cruise ships glided slowly by, and the giant LED screen on the Twin Towers proclaimed “I Love Jingbei,” both stunning and romantic. Gentle ripples on the water reflected the city’s vibrant splendor.

To the right of the room was a staircase.

She descended the spiral stairs and saw someone standing in the open kitchen with their back to her.

Without even seeing the face, she recognized Ling Dongyan by his silhouette.

His long, slender fingers gripped a ladle, stirring porridge in a pot, utterly focused despite the watch on his wrist steamed over by the kitchen’s humidity.

Every movement was smooth and effortless.

His white shirt was tucked neatly into his suit trousers, accentuating his lean, elongated waist.

Broad shoulders tapering to a narrow back revealed clear muscle lines; his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing firm forearms. When he raised his hand, the defined lines of his back were strikingly attractive.

His confident, practiced posture showed he was no stranger to cooking.

For some reason, she suddenly recalled yesterday, when they reunited and he was half-naked, wrapped only in a towel.

Dressed, he perfectly embodied the saying: “Clothes make the man slim; without them, there’s substance.”

Nie Xingyan tapped herself twice, thinking she must be crazy to feel a stir of desire for Ling Dongyan.