Lu Hanting’s fingers froze, stopping short of lifting the veil from her face. He gazed down at the girl sleeping on the bed. If she were to open her eyes, he knew he’d see those stunning pupils—dark and glistening like a kitten’s. The way she looked up at you was just like the gentle scratch of a kitten’s paw. A perfect blend of innocence and allure. His eyes fell on the red mark blooming on her neck. Her skin was so delicate; a single, light squeeze from his fingers earlier had left its trace. Lu Hanting turned and returned to the sofa, lying back down. His insomnia was progressively worsening, far beyond what her acupuncture could ever hope to cure. Still, her skills were undeniable. He had actually managed to drift off for a moment while she held his hand—a brief respite of about ten minutes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd managed even that. Lu Hanting’s gaze shifted back to the delicate figure curled up on the bed. A thought drifted through his mind: how could her hands be so small, so soft? … The next morning. Xia Xiwan was seated in the dining room, sipping a bowl of sweet red date and lotus seed soup brought by a maid. Old Madam Lu sat beside her, beaming as she chattered away. “Oh, Wanwan, I took a liking to you the moment I saw you. If Hanting ever dares to bully you, you tell Grandma, and I’ll sort him out for you… Drink up, don’t stop, have more of this soup. We need to have a baby soon! Lots of babies, one after the other! I want to hold a little Hanting in one hand and a little Wanwan in the other…” Old Madam Lu’s hair was white, but she was full of vigor, her expression kind and warm. If you could ignore her goofy streak, Xia Xiwan found her quite lovely. Just then, a maid’s voice cut in, “Good morning, Young Master.” Lu Hanting was coming downstairs. Xia Xiwan looked up. Today, Lu Hanting wore a classic white shirt and black trousers, the very picture of a heartthrob. The tailored fabric was pressed without a single crease. He descended the carpeted stairs with an innate elegance and aristocratic air. Behind him, an older woman, a wedding matron, followed, holding a white silk handkerchief. On it was a distinct crimson stain. The matron smiled and congratulated Old Madam Lu. “Old Madam, congratulations! May you soon be holding your great-grandchild.” “Excellent, excellent! Butler, give her a reward!” Old Madam Lu generously handed out a red envelope. Xia Xiwan knew at a glance that the handkerchief was meant to be proof that she and Lu Hanting had consummated their marriage last night. A woman was supposed to bleed her first time. But they hadn't done anything. So… where did the blood come from? At that moment, Lu Hanting stopped beside her. He leaned his tall frame down, one hand casually tucked in his pocket, and murmured into her ear, “I did that. Wasn’t overstepping, was I? You’re still… untouched, right?” His question was so blunt. Xia Xiwan had never even been in a relationship, and the tips of her snow-white ears instantly flushed a deep red. The posture was intimate—Lu Hanting leaning in to whisper in her ear, looking for all the world like a pair of doting newlyweds. Old Madam Lu immediately covered her eyes with her hands. “I don’t see anything! I’m not looking, I’m not looking! You two carry on.” Then she spread her fingers to peek through the gaps. Lu Hanting watched the blush creep up Xia Xiwan’s small earlobes, a roguish glint in his eyes. He arched a handsome brow, exuding the playful charm of a mature man. “You haven’t even turned twenty yet. Nineteen. You’ve never been with… a man, have you?” Xia Xiwan was still very young, only nineteen. Lu Hanting was twenty-seven, a man in his prime, handsome and sophisticated. His relentless, hushed questioning, their proximity—all she could feel was his warm breath against her delicate skin, making her want to shrink away. “Want a bite?” Xia Xiwan spun around and, in a swift motion, put the spoonful of red date and lotus seed soup directly into his mouth, desperate to shut him up. The butler standing nearby gasped aloud. “Young Madam, that’s your spoon!” The Young Master had a severe case of germaphobia. That was the Young Madam's used spoon! The butler scrambled to fetch some mouthwash. Xia Xiwan’s long lashes fluttered. In her haste to silence him, she had fed him with her own spoon. This… Lu Hanting straightened up after being fed the spoonful of soup. He furrowed his handsome brow slightly, then, under everyone’s astonished gaze, he swallowed it. The butler’s jaw dropped. *What… what is wrong with the Young Master?* *Sir, you’re a germaphobe! Have you forgotten?* Old Madam Lu nodded in satisfaction. In her seventy-odd years, she had become a good judge of character, and she’d liked Xia Xiwan from the start. This girl and her grandson were destined for each other. “Wonderful, wonderful! You two are sharing a bowl of soup. It seems my great-grandchild will be in Wanwan’s belly very soon,” Old Madam Lu chirped, as happy as a child. Xia Xiwan stared at the spoon in her hand—the same one she had just put in Lu Hanting’s mouth—and then at the half-empty bowl of soup. Was she supposed to eat it, or not? Just then, Lu Hanting sat down beside her. His narrow eyes met hers as he asked with feigned concern, “Why did you stop? Go on, finish it before it gets cold.” “…” Xia Xiwan knew he was doing this on purpose. She had fed him with her used spoon, and now he wanted her to continue using it. It was tantamount to an indirect… kiss. “That’s right, Wanwan, why aren’t you eating? Hurry up. I’ll have them bring you another bowl when you’re done,” Old Madam Lu urged. Xia Xiwan quickly picked up the spoon and finished the rest of the soup in a few hurried gulps. “I’m full, Grandma. No more for me.” Watching the girl’s charmingly flustered expression, Lu Hanting’s thin lips curved into a slight smile. He was in an excellent mood. … After breakfast, Old Madam Lu asked Xia Xiwan, “Wanwan, are you going out later?” Xia Xiwan nodded. “Grandma, I need to go back to my parents’ house for a visit.” “Of course, you should. Hanting, you’ll go with Wanwan. Bring some gifts. A new son-in-law must observe the proper etiquette,” Old Madam Lu called out to Lu Hanting. It was too late for Xia Xiwan to object. Lu Hanting was already walking over. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s go together.” The two left the Youlan Villa and walked out onto the lawn. Lu Hanting opened the passenger-side door like a gentleman. “Get in.” Xia Xiwan waved a dismissive hand. “Grandma can’t see us anymore. You can go do your own thing. I’ll just get a cab.” Lu Hanting raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you the one who said you’d play along for Grandma’s sake? Get in. Don’t make me repeat myself.” The man was impossibly bossy. But a thought sparked in Xia Xiwan’s mind. He had agreed to the peace treaty she proposed last night! Without further protest, Xia Xiwan obediently slid into the luxury car. The car sped along the road in silence. To avoid the awkwardness, Xia Xiwan turned to look out the window. Lu Hanting’s reflection was cast on the gleaming glass. He drove with intense focus, his large hands resting capably on the steering wheel, executing turns, lane changes, and accelerations with a fluid, effortless grace. Xia Xiwan noticed the expensive steel watch on his strong wrist, a piece worth millions. She had no idea what his real identity was, only that they had now reached a truce, which would make her own plans at the Xia family home much easier to carry out. Her gaze drifted back to the scenery rushing past outside. … Half an hour later, the car pulled up in front of the Xia family residence. Xia Xiwan looked down to unbuckle her seatbelt. But it was stuck. “Let me,” Lu Hanting said, leaning his tall frame across the console. Xia Xiwan let her hands fall away, allowing him to help. He had noticed her fragrance last night, but now, with him so close, the pleasant, girlish scent filled his senses, swirling around him.