Chapter 99: I Don’t Wish for Your Body to Be Harmed Because of Me (For Nuanzuan)

As the words fell from her lips, she found herself able to utter the name smoothly, almost as if it flowed naturally from her mouth. She was somewhat incredulous. In a daze, the man slowly stepped away from her, turning his head to gaze at the neon lights outside the window. “We’ve arrived.”

******

Mo Zhicheng dismissed the driver first, leaving the Bentley behind. He took Linglan by the hand, letting her follow closely behind him.

This Japanese restaurant was considered upscale in Nanjiang. The central hall was open, facing the courtyard, which featured a natural pond. Within the pond bloomed a few elegant aquatic lotus flowers. On the edge of the pond stood two tall cherry blossom trees. Since it was winter, the cherry blossoms had yet to bloom. Around March, this place would be filled with fluttering cherry blossoms, whispering millennia-old sorrows.

It was truly beautiful.

Linglan admired the setting. Indeed, like Mo Zhicheng, she appreciated things with an antique charm, savoring the subtle ancient atmosphere.

Perhaps this was one of the rare shared interests between them. Linglan sighed thoughtfully—if only he were not Ye Shao’s rival. If only... As one “if” after another sprang to mind, she knew there was a moment when she hesitated.

Pushing open the private room door, Mo Zhicheng slipped off his leather shoes and turned to look at her. Linglan was bending down to remove her shoes as well, moving cautiously. His gaze naturally fell upon the shoes, which she neatly arranged outside the door. This woman’s meticulousness remained unchanged. As she nodded, their eyes met, and she studied the expression in his gaze with puzzlement.

Mo Zhicheng withdrew his eyes and no longer looked at her. He turned toward the low black table and sat down casually, while Linglan took a seat opposite him. Soon after, a tea ceremony attendant dressed in a pale pink kimono entered. The style of her kimono was simpler than traditional ones, adorned with subtle peach-colored floral patterns that lent her an air of grace. Truly worthy of a high-end Japanese restaurant, even the waitresses here were polished and refined.

The woman knelt politely by the table and delicately took the teapot, pouring tea with practiced ease, revealing the richness of her culture’s traditional heritage.

Linglan watched quietly and sighed, “I heard the tea ceremony originally came from China but was perfected by the Japanese.” Her gaze drifted, and she smiled gently.

When the woman placed the porcelain cup before Mo Zhicheng, he motioned for her to serve Linglan first. Linglan was momentarily stunned by his gesture.

After the first cup of tea was poured, the woman discreetly withdrew. Linglan glanced at the tray of sweets, offering some to him. According to Japanese tea ceremony customs, one should eat sweets first to offset the bitterness of the tea.

He shook his head, so Linglan set the sweets aside. Holding her cup with both hands, she gently rotated it twice, aligning the floral pattern toward Mo Zhicheng before offering him tea.

The teacup was small and exquisite, made of black ceramic. Its deep, muted color conveyed a simple and serene beauty.

Mo Zhicheng accepted the cup with both hands, returning the gesture, then slowly sipped the tea in three turns, as the ceremony dictated.

He said nothing, signaling for Linglan to continue. “The Tang Dynasty was the most brilliant era of Chinese culture. Back then, the Japanese humbly and diligently followed the Chinese to learn the essence of the Central Plains culture.” She held the teacup lightly and took a small sip.

Mo Zhicheng followed her lead. “The law of the jungle remains eternal: the strong prey on the weak. To be respected, one must first be strong. The victor is king; the vanquished, outlawed. Many truths are interconnected.” He brought the cup to his lips, inhaled the fragrant tea, and glanced up to find her staring at him in surprise.

He seemed particularly talkative tonight. Linglan straightened her posture and steadied herself before asking, “Are you talking about yourself?”

She smiled faintly, and he met her gaze, the light in his eyes flickering. “What did you say?”

“In just a few short years since you returned to Nanjiang, you’ve swiftly reshaped the entire financial world here with remarkable skill. Outsiders are very curious about you.” She asked cautiously, almost recklessly, fearing to provoke his wrath. “You never respond to the media, but the more you avoid them, the more it becomes a cat-and-mouse game. The mystery only deepens, making people eager to uncover the truth.” She looked at him quietly. “So... why don’t I ask them to question you for you?”

Seeing his expression grow colder, she felt a nervous flutter in her heart, anxiously awaiting his reply.

She thought he would be angry, but instead, he smiled faintly, a subtle curve at his thin lips. “Shall we play a game?”

“What kind of game?” she asked, puzzled.

“You ask me your questions, and I answer truthfully. Likewise, I ask you mine, and you must answer honestly as well. Do you dare to gamble with me?” Mo Zhicheng raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Linglan hesitated, worried that such trivial tactics would only reveal her weakness before him. Why bind herself so tightly? She smiled and said, “I won’t play...” as she picked up her cup and took a small sip.

“Afraid?” he challenged.

She rested her chin on her hand and glanced at him with a faint smile. “Not afraid. Who knows what overstepping questions you’d ask?” She lowered her eyes, carefully holding the porcelain cup as she took a gentle sip.

After a moment of silence, she finally asked, “I just want to know—who is the man in your heart?”

“Cough—cough—”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than she choked on the warm tea, coughing uncontrollably.

Mo Zhicheng frowned and leaned close, using his sleeve to wipe the droplets from her lips. The sleeve was damp, touched by the spill. Linglan turned her face away, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Who said there’s someone in my heart?”

“Does that count as a question?”

“Well, then what you just said counts as one too!” Linglan met his gaze squarely. “We’re even.”

Mo Zhicheng was momentarily taken aback. Looking at her flushed face, he thoughtfully brushed a thumb across her mouth until it was clean. “I sense that your heart is guarded by someone,” he said with a faint smile. “Does that count as an answer?”

Before she could respond, a noise came from outside the door.

Seizing the moment, Linglan freed herself from his hold. The kimono-clad woman returned, kneeling respectfully to place an array of dishes before them.

“Eat,” Mo Zhicheng said simply.

The atmosphere during dinner was unlike before. Linglan held back her curiosity about certain matters. Perhaps it was the ambiance, but they ended up talking about many trivial things, and Mo Zhicheng never mentioned work in her presence. Linglan ate slowly, and the quiet moments made the mood feel more natural.

She unexpectedly asked, “Director Tang said you had a stomach perforation last time. What happened?”

Mo Zhicheng paused, looking at her as she kept her head down, chewing slowly. Feeling his gaze, she glanced up briefly, puzzled at how the conversation had turned to such a sensitive topic. Perhaps their discussion of Japanese tea culture had wandered far and wide, touching on rare wines and collections, and she had unwittingly asked a delicate question, leaving them both momentarily silent.

“It’s a chronic problem caused by drinking too much,” he said casually. “After you were injured, I stayed by your side for days. When I drank heavily once, the pain was unbearable.”

Linglan looked at him incredulously. “If I was injured, why did you drink?” Her words barely concealed the concern within, which pleased the man, causing a faint smile to curl his lips. “Are you worried about me?”

Realizing what he said, Linglan quickly withdrew her gaze. “No...” she replied.

“But I heard urgency in your voice.”

“That’s because... I don’t want you to be harmed because of me.”

“Are you any different?” He stared at her. “Isn’t it because of me that you were hurt? When I was in pain, all I could think about was your shoulder injury—how it must have hurt a thousand times more.”

She was stunned. He said, “No more words!”

If she were to admit that everything had been planned, would he still speak with such conviction? Dinner ended awkwardly.

Mo Zhicheng opened the sliding door. Linglan stepped in, intending to put on her shoes and leave, but to her surprise, one of her high heels was missing. She searched frantically. “Where’s my shoe?” Such an incident should not happen in a place like this, and yet, strangely, her shoes were not valuable. Why had it vanished?

Mo Zhicheng approached and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Linglan, bewildered, said, “My shoe is gone.”

“Is that so?” he murmured, watching her barefoot on the floor. Several managers hurried over to apologize profusely. Mo Zhicheng said nothing, and Linglan was at a loss. How could she possibly leave without her shoes?

Looking down, she felt trapped in this awkward situation, unsure what to do. Just then, the man’s voice rang out: “Everyone leave!”

Given Mo Zhicheng’s status, the managers dared not disobey. Linglan turned to look at him and gasped.

Unexpectedly, he bent down and swept her up in his arms. In her surprise, she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck while clutching his suit jacket tightly. Carried away like this, she buried her face against his chest, avoiding the curious glances around them. “Where are we going?”

“To buy you a new pair of shoes!”