Letter from Hong Kong Chapter 113

The matter of calling him “husband” was perfectly legitimate now, yet she was still always too shy to say it. So Shang Shao helped Ying Yin get used to it.

After five days of practice, Ying Yin’s rebellious streak became heavy with resentment, and she deliberately called him “Mr. Shang” instead, earning herself another round of torment for her trouble.

In the past, whenever she called him “Mr. Shang,” she had been filled with nothing but awe and respect. Who could have imagined that one day, she would be rendered dazed and helpless by him, again and again, as she called him in that soft, husky voice, “Husband”?

The yacht had everything they could possibly need, and the master suite alone, with its adjoining deck, covered more than four hundred square meters.

On the deck, a round swimming pool was set into the center, with a sunken sofa beside it. During the day, Shang Shao would sit there reading while Ying Yin swam. When she grew tired, she would stop behind him.

With her hands folded over the edge of the dark marble, she lay there like a mermaid resting against a reef. Her face was beaded with droplets of water, her black hair spreading like seaweed as she brought the tip of her nose close to the hollow of Shang Shao’s neck.

Shang Shao would spare one hand to make her more comfortable as she rested against him, his palm covering her face. His fingertips and palm both carried the scent of the book’s pages.

Ying Yin kissed his long, slender fingertips, making the sides of his fingers itch. He played the part of the gentlemanly Liu Xiahui, yet slipped his fingers inside to tease her soft tongue, all while calmly turning another page of his book.

The sun beat down fiercely, baking everything upon the sea until it shone and burned. There was a hard, dazzling brilliance to it, a brightness that seemed capable of destroying everything in its path.

When they weren’t reading, they would go to the cinema.

For a man who plainly wasn’t someone who watched movies, Shang Shao had an enormous collection of Blu-ray discs aboard the yacht. Perhaps they were there simply to entertain guests.

As the movie played, Ying Yin gradually heard the breathing beside her grow slower and deeper. She turned her head and, sure enough, Shang Shao had fallen asleep, one elbow propped against the armrest, the back of his hand supporting his cheek. In the dimness, the light from the screen cast a layer of shifting brightness and grey across his face.

Ying Yin deliberately tried to disturb him, only to be grabbed by the wrist and pulled into his arms, where he held her firmly in place.

“What are you doing?” It took him only a second to shake off his drowsiness. One hand pressed against the back of her neck, and the look in his eyes behind his glasses was intensely predatory.

Ying Yin couldn’t answer. She let out a soft “Mm,” and Shang Shao pressed down on the back of her neck and kissed her. Once he had kissed her until she was thoroughly dazed and intoxicated, he narrowed his eyes and asked in a husky voice, “Want to sit in your husband’s arms and watch?”

She hummed an “Mm,” walking straight into the tiger’s den. The straps of her nightdress slipped from both shoulders as she arched her upper body, gripping the armrest tightly in the silvery-grey glow of the screen.

Everywhere his kisses had touched glistened with moisture.

That evening, they went out onto the terrace to watch the stars. The bartender’s gold-medal-winning Goodnight Drink received a rather cold reception; the drinks he mixed for the two of them were clean and innocent enough to be served to kindergarten children.

The weather had been beautiful for several days in a row. On the fourth day, Shang Shao lowered the sailboat carried aboard the yacht and taught Ying Yin how to sail.

At eight meters long, it was the size of a grain of rice compared with the over-one-hundred-meter superyacht. Yet it had everything a proper boat needed. To enter the cabin from the deck, they had to take off their shoes. The interior resembled that of a private jet, furnished with dark solid wood and white sofas. The floor was so spotless it was practically mirror-bright.

Ying Yin knew absolutely nothing about sailing and asked whether it was the same model as the one at La Base.

“No.” Shang Shao adjusted the sail rope. “This is a coastal racing sailboat, not an ocean-going vessel.”

“Sounds like it can go pretty fast.”

“Downwind cruising can reach thirty knots. But out at sea, you have no points of reference, so at that speed, all you’ll feel is freedom, not fear.” Shang Shao tugged on the control line and reminded her, “Watch out for the boom.”

Ying Yin instinctively ducked and covered her head, earning a laugh from him.

“Come here.”

Although he repeatedly assured her that a modern keelboat would never capsize, Ying Yin still made her way over with her heart in her throat.

The little boat rocked gently from side to side.

They reached the cockpit at the stern, where Shang Shao slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his embrace.

“Don’t worry. This boat handles extreme weather very well. It’s perfectly safe.”

“Extreme weather?” Ying Yin looked even more bewildered.

“For example…” Shang Shao paused, then said with complete seriousness and composure, “five-meter waves in heavy winds.”

Ying Yin: “…”

Seriously, she wanted to jump straight into the sea and swim back.

Shang Shao laughed uncontrollably, his arm firmly wrapped around her waist. “I’ll teach you. It’s a lot of fun. You’ll like it.”

“I don’t like it.” Ying Yin was practically on the verge of tears.

Shang Shao chuckled, gently stroking the side of her face. “Let’s give it a try.”

There was plenty of preparation to do before setting sail. Ying Yin couldn’t help with any of it, so she obediently sat on one side of the boat, watching him move about as he secured the figure-eight knots, checked the mainsail, and released the working lines from the winches.

His movements were methodical and unhurried. His fingers, which normally gave off such an air of refinement, were remarkably practiced and effortless as he handled the ropes and tied all kinds of knots, the veins standing out along his forearms.

No wonder he was so skilled at undressing women.

While doing all this, Shang Shao rarely spoke, his thin lips pressed lightly together. Because he was wearing sunglasses, Ying Yin couldn’t see his eyes, but there was always an unmistakable sense of concentration about him.

Once all the preparations were complete, Shang Shao took control of the tiller and smoothly steered the boat from a forty-five-degree angle to the wind, bringing it steadily into the wind.

The mainsail suddenly began to flap violently. He gave a leisurely laugh and said to Ying Yin, “See? The wind direction’s already changed.”

There was something almost blissful about the way he enjoyed such sudden, unpredictable changes.

The ropes were abruptly pulled taut, shifting the angle between the boat and the wind. Both the jib and mainsail instantly filled with wind, and the violent flapping stopped.

The sailboat surged forward at full speed. At thirty knots, the wind whipped fiercely past their ears.

“So fast!” Ying Yin’s palms were drenched in sweat.

“Let’s do something fun,” Shang Shao suddenly said, reminding her, “Hold on tight.”

Ying Yin had already been gripping the railing, but at his words, she instinctively tightened her hold. Before she even realized what he meant by “fun,” the boat suddenly heeled sharply toward her side, almost as if it were about to tip completely over.

Ying Yin screamed repeatedly, the hand gripping the railing already dipping into the seawater.

“The boat’s going to capsize!”

While everything was utter chaos on her side, Shang Shao remained utterly calm.

“It won’t.” He was so relaxed that he eased the sail a little, then asked Ying Yin, “Isn’t it fun? Relax.”

“It’s not fun, it’s not fun…” Ying Yin began to whimper.

“Beg me?”

Ying Yin: “…”

“The boat will still capsize at an angle to the wind…”

“Husband, husband, husband!” Ying Yin knew exactly when to yield.

She was even more enthusiastic than when she called him that in bed.

After making a tremendous effort to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his lips, Shang Shao said in an utterly unruffled voice, “I didn’t hear you.”

“Bastard,” Ying Yin scolded him coquettishly, earning a laugh from him.

“Wait for me.” His smile faded as he became serious.

The next moment, with the sails fully raised and the wind strong, he performed a hiking maneuver. Hiking relied entirely on the core strength of the waist, abdomen, and back. Ying Yin’s heart leapt into her throat as she watched his body extend beyond the side of the boat, almost parallel to the surface of the sea.

Once the sailboat had stabilized, Shang Shao loosened the ropes and brought the boat to a stop, then jumped down onto the stern deck.

Ying Yin staggered over, her legs weak and useless. She caught her foot on a rope and fell straight into Shang Shao’s arms.

“Legs gone weak?” he asked, steadying her with one arm – as if he had any right to ask.

Ying Yin’s fingertips were trembling, her whole body shuddering in wave after wave. She looked at him with eyes filled with fear, grievance, and lingering daze.

She was still under the influence of adrenaline. A darkness descended over Shang Shao’s eyes. He bent her backwards by the waist and kissed her forcefully, the two of them falling onto the deck together.

“Was it fun?” he asked again, rubbing her lips.

Ying Yin gave a soft “Mm,” her eyes gradually clearing.

“Sailing is an intellectual sport.” As he spoke, Shang Shao pulled her into his lap. “If you can understand the wind, judge the wind, and make use of the wind, you can accomplish anything. Think about it. Everything here changes in an instant. Nothing leaves a trace, nothing can be predicted or grasped, and everything comes down to a split-second decision. You need to sense the most subtle changes, plan ahead, manipulate the limited tools at your disposal, and find the perfect moment to make your move.”

Ying Yin listened carefully and intently.

“Any hesitation will make you lose to the wind. But if you can judge and make use of all of this as you please, then your course, your speed – whether you want to take it easy or go full speed ahead – will all be under your control.”

Ying Yin understood.

She thought that this really was the perfect sport for him.

“What do you do when the wind is against you?” she asked innocently, clearly still a beginner.

The corners of Shang Shao’s lips curved up. “That’s when you can go even faster. The Bernoulli effect. We’re sailing into the wind right now. Look – the wind is coming in at a forty-five-degree angle to the side of the boat.” He taught Ying Yin how to read the wind indicator.

She spent the entire day learning through hands-on practice under his guidance.

How to identify the wind’s direction and strength, how to judge the direction of currents and waves, how to reef and unfurl the sails, how to control the direction in which the sails took the wind, the angle between the sails, hull, and wind…

Ying Yin’s head was spinning.

She had trained in dance, so in theory, she had excellent coordination and was very good with her hands. But once the wind and waves picked up, she still became completely flustered, often able to do nothing but helplessly watch the bow veer off course.

Sometimes, when she got the angle wrong, both the mainsail and jib would flap violently, making her panic. Shang Shao wouldn’t even teach her then. He would simply sit there, holding a cup of English tea, looking completely at ease.

Ying Yin decided to get her revenge and deliberately steered the sails in the wrong direction.

The boat rocked violently in the wind, and the tea suddenly splashed all over him.

Shang Shao: “…”

There were times when the waves rose high. The boat would rise with the swell, only to be thrown back down, creating an almost weightless sensation. When the sails were at the wrong angle, the boat would spin helplessly amid the waves. Then a huge wave suddenly came crashing over them. Ying Yin let out a scream, and Shang Shao shielded her, getting drenched from head to toe in the process.

It was rare to see him in such a sorry state. His linen shirt had become completely transparent. Having successfully gotten her revenge, Ying Yin laughed breathlessly, her heart racing, only to freeze when he pinned her with a dangerous look.

She tried to run. Barefoot on the wet deck, she slipped – and was caught around the waist by him.

“Did you do that on purpose?” Shang Shao wiped a hand across his face.

“I really didn’t know.” Like a drenched little puppy, Ying Yin looked at him timidly, putting on an innocent, pitiful expression.

“Not afraid of the boat capsizing anymore?”

“You said it would never capsize no matter what…” She scrambled for an excuse, only to be cut off by Shang Shao kissing her fiercely and pressing her down onto the stern deck.

The seawater was cold, and Ying Yin began to tremble beneath him. Her lips were forced apart as, beneath the white polo shirt, the clasp of her sports bra came undone at her chest.

The sudden release made Ying Yin gasp for breath, her crossed legs rubbing against the deck and getting dirty.

Shang Shao looked at her with an unmistakably predatory gaze. “Exciting?”

He was speaking with unmistakable implication, his voice dropping lower. “You got me worked up. It’s not going to end that quickly.”

He knew his hands were dirty from handling the sail ropes, so he pressed them down against her legs, his lips and tongue moving downward.

With nothing but the open sky above them and the unfathomably deep sea stretching out on all sides, Ying Yin grew tense, every nerve on edge.

It didn’t take long before she completely surrendered, her struggles and attempts to evade him making the boat rock gently beneath them, only adding to the momentum.

When they weren’t sailing, time seemed to pass slowly. Occasionally, a fish would leap onto the deck, its silver back flashing as it flopped about energetically for a while before Ying Yin returned it to the sea. Coffee and tea were kept brewing throughout the day, and amid their warm aroma, Ying Yin rested her head in his arms, watching the orange evening glow spread across the horizon with him.

“Where would you like to have the wedding?” Shang Shao asked casually.

“Somewhere no one knows us.” Without a second thought, Ying Yin said on a whim, “Right here.”

“…”

“Mr. Shang Shao, do you take Miss Ying Yin to be your wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in wealth and in poverty…” She rattled off the wedding vows off the top of her head.

Before she could finish, he covered her mouth. Sitting up slightly, he held her down beneath him, the glow of the setting sun reflected in his eyes as he looked at her with helpless exasperation.

“Don’t be so casual about it.”

Ying Yin pressed her lips tightly together before nestling back into his arms. “I was only joking. I know it’s not up to me.”

It went without saying that with Shang Shao’s family and his position, even the wedding probably wouldn’t be something he could decide entirely on his own. How could it possibly be up to her?

The wedding would surely be grand. She could choose anywhere in the world. The venue would be packed with distinguished guests, all dressed in evening wear and bow ties, surrounded by the glitter of fine clothes and elegant figures. A champagne tower might rise thirty or forty tiers high, with exquisite wine flowing endlessly like a crystal-clear spring. She would wear an expensive, entirely hand-crafted custom wedding gown, perhaps even one with diamond-encrusted clasps, costing ten million.

And yet none of those scenes were what she dreamed of.

What she dreamed of was the look in Shang Shao’s eyes the first time he saw her in a wedding dress. She dreamed of a lawn with only the two of them on it. She dreamed of him taking her hand and whispering tenderly into her ear, You look so beautiful in your wedding dress.

“It’s up to you.” Shang Shao pulled her into his arms. “Wherever you want to have it, we’ll have a ceremony there first.”

Ying Yin immediately perked up. “Secretly?”

Shang Shao chuckled. “Not exactly secretly. But we’ll only follow your wishes. Invite whoever you want, and if there’s anyone you don’t want to invite, then don’t.”

“I had a dream last night,” Ying Yin suddenly said.

“What about?”

“I dreamed I was standing outside in the rain, and your car drove past without seeing me.” Ying Yin tilted her chin up.

“Maybe it would,” Shang Shao replied, instead of reassuring her.

“Then everything would be different.” Ying Yin’s heart tightened.

Shang Shao clasped her wrist, lowered his head, and sought out her lips. “Nothing would be different.”

A pod of dolphins passed by, their silver backs flashing in undulating shades of silver-grey beneath the dusk and moonlight.

“I wonder what things are like on shore.” Ying Yin closed her eyes. “When we go back, Yifan and Tiwen are going to curse me to death.”

The sea might be a safe haven, but they couldn’t keep running away and never return to land.

On the fifth day, the yacht docked back at the harbor. Even with barriers cordoning off the area and black-clad security guards stationed everywhere, they still couldn’t stop the clicking shutters and flashes from the shore from blending into a cacophony. Drones buzzed overhead like bees; no one knew how many had been sent up.

The series of photos taken as they disembarked inevitably found their way online, and the internet, which had only just quieted down, erupted into activity once again. Through the long lenses, Ying Yin was keeping a very low profile, her sunglasses and bucket hat pulled firmly into place. One hand was held tightly by Shang Shao at her side.

The Maybach had already been waiting nearby. The two of them got into the car, and the privacy curtains blocked the view from all around them.

Once they had successfully picked them up, even Lin Cunkang let out a long sigh of relief and shook his head with a smile. “Being a celebrity really isn’t something just anyone can do.”

Ying Yin comforted him. “It’s fine. It’ll only be like this for a while. They have plenty of other things to chase after, and I’ll eventually fade from the spotlight anyway.”

Lin Cunkang couldn’t help laughing. “Young Madam, you’re too modest.”

Ying Yin immediately choked on her water, coughing as she accepted the tissue Shang Shao handed her.

“Don’t call me that…” Her face turned bright red.

There was a meaningful smile in Shang Shao’s eyes. “Don’t make things difficult for Uncle Kang.”

Lin Cunkang still spoke in that gentlemanly tone. “To be honest, I’ve been practicing for quite some time. In my heart, you’ve been Young Madam for a long time already.”

Ying Yin couldn’t stop licking and biting her lips. Unable to bear it any longer, she buried her face in her knees, the heat radiating from her hair and the back of her neck.

“Hong Kong·3” trended again, sparking another wave of heated discussion online.

[Hong Kong 3… I finally understand what it means that simplicity is beauty.]

[One sign could buy two houses.]

[Is it really okay for a big shot to be this high-profile? From now on, he’s going to get mobbed whenever he drives out.]

[Not bad. He stole my wife, so let him have a taste of the suffering that comes with all this traffic. (Just kidding.)]

The Maybach returned to the seaside estate. After they switched to another car, they headed for Ying Yin’s little villa under the cover of several other vehicles.

As the car’s wheels rolled up the driveway, Ying Fan stood on the second-floor balcony. Through the tall, luxuriant mahogany trees, she had a perfectly clear view of the figures inside the car.

Her feelings had been incredibly complicated over the past few days.

The internet had practically dug up every last scrap of sweetness between the two of them, and one person after another had come forward with new revelations.

[Does anyone remember that time Yinyin went around the offices at Qinde? That voice was definitely Shang Shao, right? Oh my god, he even interviewed her under Jin Yuanmin’s name. I’m dying from all the shipping!]

[Yes, yes, yes! What else did he ask?]

[The big shot asked what to do because he’d had a fight with his girlfriend and didn’t know how to make it up to her. He even said his girlfriend was a young girl who might not like him that much, so he was a little at a loss.]

[!!!]

[I’m dying, I’m dying! He’s so good at this!]

[Fuck… now that’s a relationship.]

Ying Fan thought to herself: Fake.

[The Galaxy Awards red carpet was all part of the big shot’s ulterior motives too! I have solid evidence and everything! The way he looked at her was definitely not normal!]

[Fuck, this guy is so practiced at knowingly breaking the rules. (I’m shipping them so hard I’ve lost all sense of reason.)]

[Who gave him the guts to carry on a secret affair right under everyone’s noses?]

[Apparently, the big shot genuinely thinks of himself as an ordinary person.]

[When you were holding Yinyin in your arms, were you thinking, I’m going to eat swan meat, or I’ve decided this woman is mine? (Don’t mind me, I’m just a shameless romantic.)]

[Redefining what it means to be an “ordinary person.”]

[Please, someone wake him up. If merely standing beside Yinyin is enough to get people shipping you, how can you possibly be an ordinary person?!]

[He must have been secretly over the moon when the two of them were caught in the same frame.]

Ying Fan thought to herself: No idea if he was happy, but either way, it’s fake.

[The Justice Prevails roadshow… chasing her to the venue to ask… if she were dating someone, would she look through her boyfriend’s WeChat Moments…]

[This is ridiculous. So sweet. I really want to laugh.]

[I’m going to say it for the thousandth time: he’s so good at this. How does he do it?]

[Can the other rich young masters even compete?]

[I’ve replayed this video so many times I’ve practically worn it smooth. You can see the faint blush spreading from her neck all the way to her earlobes.]

[Even the sweetest romance movie isn’t as shippable as these two.]

Ying Fan thought to herself: Mm-hmm, exactly. They’re so shippable. Fake couples are the most shippable of all.

[He even went to the film set and stayed with her for two months. Spent New Year’s there. And he could just summon a helicopter whenever he wanted.]

[Aren’t people like him supposed to be insanely busy all day? I genuinely can’t imagine it.]

[Just another guy with a hopelessly love-addled brain.]

[After seeing this, I’m definitely going to watch Xueqing too!]

[I heard Yinyin wasn’t doing very well during that period. Everyone knows how Director Li treats his actors…]

[I saw the official-announcement photo the big shot posted on his WeChat Moments. That must have been taken in Xinjiang, right? How should I put it… There’s something about them that makes it feel like they were all each other had. (Trying desperately to gesture at the feeling.)]

[I know exactly what you mean. It feels like they transcended everything – class, money, fame and status. There’s something incredibly pure about it. The very first thing I felt when I saw it was moved.]

Ying Fan put down her phone, then picked it up again. She enlarged the picture and examined it inch by inch.

The photo had a beautiful atmosphere, but she couldn’t make out her daughter’s face, so she had no idea what expression she was wearing. All she knew was that it seemed as though he was protecting her with his entire being. It was as if he were fighting the snow for her; if he were even a step too slow, she would melt into the snow.

Junyi ran out into the courtyard and, like a little doorman, opened the car door on Ying Yin’s side.

Shang Shao had no choice but to get out on his own, a suit jacket draped over one arm, watching helplessly as Ying Yin was immediately engulfed in Junyi’s embrace.

“Okay, okay. You’re acting like you just barely survived a near-death experience.” Ying Yin patted her back.

Junyi said, “Auntie’s upstairs, and she’s not very happy.”

Ying Yin gave a soft “Mm” and looked toward Shang Shao. After he gave her a slight nod, she felt a little more at ease. She walked around the back of the car, took his hand, and went inside with him.

“My mother won’t dislike you,” Ying Yin said very seriously. “You’re the kind of person she wouldn’t even dare dream of.”

Shang Shao had prepared a gift, carefully selected by Lin Cunkang before he and Ying Yin personally made the final choice. It was a lily-of-the-valley brooch, with the flower’s stamens made from top-quality yellow diamonds, while the leaves and stems were set with tiny clear diamonds. It was elegant and luxurious without being ostentatious.

The thought that had gone into its price was deliberate: thoughtful and valuable, but still within the bounds of proper etiquette.

Ying Fan pretended to be drinking tea and reading the newspaper upstairs. She listened as their footsteps drew closer, while her expression remained utterly unchanged – still as beautiful and composed as ever.

“Mom,” Ying Yin called to her.

Ying Fan gave a soft “Mm,” setting her cup back onto its saucer. She raised her eyes slowly and casually, looking at Ying Yin first before finally letting her gaze drift toward Shang Shao.

At first sight, her heart tightened slightly.

This really was not a man any woman could handle.

Or rather, it went beyond gender altogether – Ying Fan couldn’t imagine anyone being able to handle him.

Shang Shao gave a slight nod, inclining his head as he greeted her. “Auntie.”

His voice was deep yet clear, with the rich timbre of fine wine and the resonant quality of striking jade. Even in those two brief syllables, there was an unmistakable air of refinement and status.

Ying Fan rose from her seat. “Mr. Shang…”

For a moment, she didn’t know what she should call him.

“Just call me Ah-Shao. That’s what the elders in my family call me.” The corners of Shang Shao’s lips lifted slightly. His voice was measured and unhurried, gentlemanly and impeccably polite.

“Sit.” Ying Fan had nothing else to say and could only gesture toward the seat. “Let’s sit and talk.”

Shang Shao smiled. “Sorry to impose.”

Once seated, he began by apologizing. “I should have come to visit you much sooner. But I thought Ying Yin’s surprise should come first, so I took the liberty of acting first and informing you afterward. I wanted to wait until I had successfully proposed to her before arranging a visit. I just didn’t expect so many things to happen online and cause you such worry.”

Ying Fan sat ramrod straight, with barely enough breath left to maintain that rigid composure.

Even with a coffee table between them, Ying Fan could still feel his powerful presence. And yet he himself was completely unruffled, respectful, and impeccably courteous.

“It’s you who are being too polite, Mr. Shang. Ying Yin and I must have caused you plenty of trouble these past few days.”

The corners of Shang Shao’s lips lifted slightly, his gaze resting lightly on her face. “You call me Mr. Shang because you’re unwilling to marry Ying Yin to me.”

Ying Fan swallowed unconsciously. Under his gaze, she quickly corrected herself. “Ah-Shao.”

The moment she called him that, she had effectively agreed to let him marry Ying Yin.

Only then did Ying Fan realize what had just happened. She was instantly filled with regret, while her palms broke out in sweat.

Shang Shao could see through anyone, yet when it came to Ying Fan’s discomfort, he remained utterly impassive. He simply picked up the gift bag containing the jewelry box and said, “It’s our first time meeting, so I brought a small gift. I hope you’ll like it.”

Ying Fan accepted the bag, while Ying Yin sat down beside her. “Have a look.”

Ying Fan had no choice but to do so. She opened it in front of the two of them, and the extraordinary brilliance of the lily-of-the-valley brooch left her speechless.

“Do you like it?” Ying Yin nestled against her like a little girl, linking her arm through her mother’s. “We spent ages picking it out. It’ll look perfect with all your coats and dresses.”

How could Ying Fan possibly say she didn’t like it? She could only murmur, “This is far too extravagant.”

Shang Shao stayed and had two cups of tea with them. When Junyi prepared dinner, he stayed for the meal as well, effectively making a proper visit to Ying Fan’s home.

It wasn’t until nine that evening, after the dishes had been cleared away and they had had more than enough tea, that Ying Fan still couldn’t bring herself to ask about the contract.

She stood beneath the entrance canopy, watching as Shang Shao got into the car and was driven away. Only then did she let out a long breath.

“For someone like him, it’s quite something that you were able to fall in love with him.” Ying Fan patted the back of Ying Yin’s hand, gently rubbing it.

“He’s wonderful. More wonderful than you could possibly imagine.” Ying Yin pouted.

Under the streetlamp, Ying Fan looked into her eyes. “Is it because you never told me how difficult things were for you, or how much pain you were in, that I can’t imagine just how wonderful he is?”

Ying Yin froze. She had no idea what her mother was referring to, and her heart began to pound.

Ying Fan sighed. She raised a hand and gently stroked her daughter’s hair, her eyes, her cheek.

“You’re going to be a bride now.” Her voice caught as hot tears rolled down her cheeks.