Chapter 93: I said, I don't want to let you go
Knock, knock, knock—
The door of the dressing room echoed with knocks, pulling Lily of the Valley from her thoughts. Mo Zhicheng was outside, separated by only a door, and he asked, “What are you doing?”
She gathered herself. “I’m changing clothes.”
Mo Zhicheng paused for a moment. “I’ll wait for you outside!”
“Alright,” she replied softly. Her gaze fell upon the neat row of clothes inside the dressing room, mostly women’s nightwear, all chosen by Mo Zhicheng, mindful of her injury—every piece buttoned at the front for ease. Selecting one, she dressed herself and tidied up before opening the door, only to see Mo Zhicheng still waiting.
He eyed her simple attire, his gaze lingering, making Lily of the Valley feel somewhat awkward and listless. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
Mo Zhicheng laughed at her question. “Then you can look at me, too. Do you dare?”
Why not! Lily of the Valley suppressed her slight embarrassment, lifting her chin in a proud gesture. Her clear eyes met his, and when she caught the faint smile in his gaze, something stirred within her. Before she could react, Mo Zhicheng slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her into his embrace. He whispered, “Alright, you win,” his words deliberately teasing. “Let me apply your medicine.”
Held in his arms, her heart was still in disarray. The next moment, he pressed her onto the bed, unbuttoning her nightgown at the chest and pulling it up to reveal her snowy shoulder and back. “Don’t move,” he said, dissatisfied with her resistance. He grabbed a pillow, tucking it under her head. “Lie down properly—I’ll get the medicine.”
Turning her head, Lily of the Valley watched as he fetched a professional medical kit. He prepared the medicine with practiced ease, which piqued her curiosity—why was he so familiar with this as well?
Mo Zhicheng dabbed the medicine around her wound with a cotton swab. Lily of the Valley relaxed, feeling a soothing coolness seep in, the pain fading into gentle comfort. She focused, then turned her head to ask, “Why are you so good to me?”
She wanted to know, because this kindness was slowly eroding her will, making her afraid she’d eventually be unable to decide, that this feeling was dangerously intoxicating. She wanted to stop herself while she still could.
Mo Zhicheng paused, set down the cotton swab, and smiled at her, a wave of joy rising in his heart. The firm lines of his face softened as he tucked her loose hair behind her ear. “Because,” he murmured, “I want you to fall in love with me.” His deep voice carried unabashed tenderness. Lily of the Valley was stunned by his words—fall in love with him, was it possible? She told herself over and over: could she let go of seventeen years of feeling and love the sworn enemy of Ye Shao? Was it possible? A faint, mocking smile crept across her lips. Mo Zhicheng saw the irony in her gaze, his expression grew solemn as he looked at her deeply, feeling an irreparable ache pierce his chest. Mo Zhicheng regained composure, saying no more, and carefully bandaged her wound. “Feelings only matter when both hearts are in harmony.”
The dusk faded into the clouds, its fiery hue sinking away. The tanker docked at the riverside.
A deep horn sounded—
The tanker’s call reverberated through the sky, as if a long-lost traveler had finally returned to the warmth of home. The river rushed silently, layers and strands of indigo waves rolling onward.
As evening approached, the crowd along the riverside thinned, leaving a solitary figure seated on the railing. Ye Shenghan gazed into the distance, gripping a soda can. A cold wind swept in, and he squinted, raising his head to drain the icy liquid, letting the chill penetrate to his core.
Bai Yuchen parked the car. The man's face carried traces of exhaustion. He got out and walked directly to Ye Shenghan, leaning casually against the railing and glancing sideways at him. “I knew you’d be here.”
Ye Shenghan didn’t respond. The drink in his can ran dry, and he squeezed it tight, hearing a crisp crunch as the can twisted in his hand.
“You’re confident about that project, so why the gloom?” Bai Yuchen asked.
With a sudden motion, Ye Shenghan flung the can aside. Bai Yuchen, unconcerned, his eyes shimmering with light, remarked, “You’re worried about her, aren’t you?”
Seeing Ye Shenghan silent, Bai Yuchen pulled a bank card from his pocket. “Shengqi is just starting out, but it’s made some progress. Don't worry about project funding—here, this is a sum transferred from my old man.”
Ye Shenghan glanced sideways at him, the fading light barely illuminating the card in Bai Yuchen’s hand. He didn’t take it. “You stole it, didn’t you?” Since the Ye family’s bankruptcy, Bai’s father had treated him politely on the surface, but Ye Shenghan sensed the man’s deep aversion to Bai Yuchen associating with him.
Bai Yuchen was taken aback, then smiled—Ye Shenghan truly was his childhood companion, able to see through any subtlety. “Since we’ve come this far, don’t hesitate. I’ll handle my father. But you—you can’t afford distraction anymore.” Bai Yuchen knew Ye Shenghan understood what he meant by distraction.
Ye Shenghan’s lips curved into a slight smile, then he sighed deeply. “Do you think I’m fighting Mo Zhicheng with a hopeless strategy?”
“Ye Shenghan—” Bai Yuchen’s frustration simmered. “Don’t forget, you’re only reclaiming what’s rightfully yours. Are you giving up on the Ye family?”
Ye Shenghan leapt down from the railing. “No—I’m ambitious. Lily of the Valley is the woman I trust most in this life. I sent her over, watching her gather intelligence for me with all her strength. Sometimes, I feel ashamed for exploiting a woman’s admiration and sincere feelings!” His passionate shout cut through the cold night wind, echoing in the darkness.
Bai Yuchen saw the redness in his eyes, the clenched fists, and the broad shoulders trembling in the wind. He was at a loss for words, only watching as Shenghan raged and regretted, the light in his eyes dimming into colorless sorrow. “I was there that night, hidden in the shadows. I watched Mo Zhicheng hold her, cherish her. Yuchen,” he touched his chest, “I felt my heart torn bit by bit, finally crushed into dust. But I couldn’t take a single step forward. Just that one step away, I stood there watching her in his arms. I couldn’t bear it—it nearly suffocated me. But I had no choice. If my identity is exposed, everything will be ruined, including Lily of the Valley’s safety!” He laughed bitterly, veins standing out on his forehead, his handsome features full of helplessness and grief.
Bai Yuchen was shaken, unable to move. “Shenghan—”
Night fell over the sea. Under the same sky, in the spacious villa, with Aunt Zhang absent, the two were left alone, silent. Mo Zhicheng was busy in the kitchen, Lily of the Valley leaned against the door. “Do you need help?”
“You just need to help eat,” Mo Zhicheng replied, focused on preparing the meal.
Lily of the Valley poked her head in, asking idly, “Who’s the better cook—Aunt Zhang or President Mo?”
He smiled lightly. “You should ask, am I a better cook, or are you?”
She was speechless.
“Considering your injury, I didn’t let you cook. But what you owe me—one day, you’ll pay it back, without a trace left.”
Lily of the Valley was stunned. She owed him? One day, she’d pay it back, without a trace. Mo Zhicheng saw her silent and turned to find her slightly lost in thought. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Lily of the Valley quickly pulled herself together and headed for the dining room.
The meal he prepared was indeed pleasing to the eye, but he understood mood and atmosphere even better. He turned on a warm spotlight, casting a gentle glow over the long dining table, making it even cozier than a candlelit dinner. Mo Zhicheng played a blues track, the volume just right—not too loud, the soothing, pleasant melody enlivening the air.
He fetched two wine glasses from the cabinet, setting them before her with gentlemanly grace, pouring a half glass. “Good for beauty and health.”
Lily of the Valley took it. She rarely drank, but tonight she toasted him alone. The man sat down leisurely, swirling the glass thoughtfully, gaze lingering on her in the soft light. She said, “This glass is to thank you for your care these days.”
Mo Zhicheng smiled, still gently swirling his glass, the clear wine glinting against the side. He murmured, “Call me Zhicheng.” His eyes met hers, catching her momentary surprise. “President Mo—”
“Call me Zhicheng.”
He met her hesitation. “In private, you don’t need to be so distant. I’m not your President Mo—I’m your man, the first man you’ve ever had.” He seemed deliberately to remind her.
The words struck her like thunder. She bit her lip, gazing at him, her delicate features outlined in the soft yellow light, a faint blush still lingering. Her greatest asset was her fragile beauty, making men want to protect her all the more. As the saying goes, ‘a woman is like water’—gentleness is the most deadly weapon. Yet this woman’s gentle exterior hid an irrepressible stubbornness, and it was precisely this stubbornness that made her all the more desirable to conquer and possess.
His intense gaze made her lower her eyes. Zhicheng—the word could not escape her lips, and she had never called a man so intimately.
“Thank you for taking care of me these days.” She diverted the topic, sipping the wine, its aroma lingering at her lips. He covered his glass with his palm, still not drinking. “Lily of the Valley.”
“Hmm?”
“Move in and live with me.”
She looked up at him, disbelief in her eyes. “What?”
“I said, let’s live together.” He spoke so plainly. “I don’t want to let you go.”
Lily of the Valley quickly looked away, pouring herself another glass and downing it. He waited for her answer. She suppressed the emotions surging in her chest and finally replied in a cold voice, “Sorry, you promised you’d let me go once I recovered. Please, President Mo, keep your word.”