Chapter 38: Chocolate Mousse Cake

Early March, the Imperial City had yet to truly enter spring.

The chill was biting, the north wind harsh.

In the study on the second floor of the villa, Ruan Suhua put down her book and lifted her gaze toward the waiting maid at the redwood desk.

“Sorry, Jiajia, what were you saying just now?” She hadn’t been paying much attention.

“Miss, the security department called. That Young Master Su has come again today. His car is parked outside and hasn’t left. They want to know how you wish to handle it.”

“No need to bother with him.”

Ruan Suhua glanced at the string of messages from Su Jiannian on her phone and placed it face down on the desk.

Since that day he had left the villa, Su Jiannian had come several times intermittently, each time circling around the question of the young lady from that day, asking if he could be introduced, speaking of “true love,” “reforming oneself,” and “turning over a new leaf.”

“People do have more idle time in winter,” she murmured.

She looked at the maid with a smile that felt like sunlight on her face.

“This year, the Su family’s mine in Siberia has been performing poorly, production declining again and again. As a member of the Su family, Su Jiannian should take initiative. Since he is self-conscious about his inadequacies, I will speak to Uncle Su on his behalf.”

“Send him to Siberia to dig coal.”

“Have Wanqiu draft an initial cooperation proposal and send it over. Once he reaches Siberia, I will personally visit the Su family.”

“Understood, Miss.” The maid clasped her hands and left the room.

The study fell silent.

Ruan Suhua’s gaze drifted toward the direction of Su Jiannian outside the villa.

She snorted softly and slid the delicate bookmark back into her book.

Previously, when they had gone to see the snow outside, even though Yu Zhu had been bundled tightly and the maid had shielded him from the wind and snow, that evening he still developed a high fever.

Zhang Jingliang’s expression had been grim enough to be frightening that night.

He had even suggested Ruan Suhua bring him to his own home for care.

But seeing her expression even grimmer than his, he wisely stopped and changed the topic, talking instead about Yu Zhu’s vision recovery.

The issues he had previously diagnosed remained, but his eyesight had recovered slightly better than expected.

If nothing went wrong, in less than half a month, he would mostly regain normal vision.

Hearing this, Ruan Suhua did not press him further on the suggestion.

Zhang Jingliang, in turn, had received the highest level of treatment the Tianxing Villa could provide—

As a late-night snack,

Ruan Suhua personally peeled an apple for him.

Yu Zhu then slept soundly for three full days.

Even after waking briefly a few days prior, he remained drowsy, and often Ruan Suhua would only write a few characters in his palm before stopping to let him rest further.

So, aside from handling company matters and occasionally dealing with Su Jiannian seeking his “true love,” most of the time she simply sat by Yu Zhu’s bedside.

She felt each second tick by, waiting in silence for that moment.

When he first opened his eyes and saw her, what would he think?

Would he like it here?

Would he think she was like the others?

What should she do, so that…

Ruan Suhua thought of many things, but she did not dare imagine the surge of emotions that would rise in her heart the moment she unwrapped the bandages and saw the light in his eyes.

Human imagination is limited.

No matter how much one tries, it cannot begin to capture even a fraction of him in that instant.

Time flowed forward.

The villa was systematically outfitted with new clothing, furniture, musical instruments, and plants.

The previously unused seven rooms were redecorated, shedding the cold, rigid lines of before for a warmer, more lived-in atmosphere.

Hope, anticipation, anxiety, nervousness…

All her emotions piled up like layers of sand dragged ashore by waves.

“Drip—”

A drop of water fell in front of her.

Rising steam, wet and heavy, parted the strands of hair clinging to her eyes.

She barely regained her senses.

She vaguely remembered that morning, having arranged for Su Jiannian to go dig coal in Siberia.

Back in the room, Xihe had quietly sat on the bed, writing in her palm for the first time.

“Ruan.”

He had written her surname.

Her fingertips felt like burning embers, searing the character through flesh and imprinting it onto her heart.

Even now, her palm still felt faintly warm.

“Splash—”

Ruan Suhua suddenly remembered something and stood abruptly from the pool.

Countless crystal-clear droplets slid down her smooth, fair back and legs, falling like shattered jade into the water.

In the next moment, a pure white, soft bath towel wrapped her, guarding the hidden bloom of spring.

At the end of the second-floor corridor,

The polished glass window caught a sliver of dim, yellow sunset.

At the window, the endless snow outside the villa was tinged with faint gold.

Looking out, it resembled a painted field of harvested wheat, bathed in crimson-gold light.

Ruan Suhua’s nerves briefly calmed.

She adjusted the black silk bow in her hair, tucking a stray lock behind her ear, and calmly entered the room.

The dusk light was muted.

Yu Zhu sat quietly on the bed, unaware of the faint golden glow resting on his hair, casting subtle, sparkling highlights.

She approached him.

The click of her strapped heels on the carpet was muffled, yet she could suddenly hear her own heartbeat—hysterical, deafening.

“Xihe…”

“…I… I think…”

It wasn’t the sharp scent of cedar.

Yu Zhu caught a slightly sour neroli fragrance in the warm air.

She leaned over to embrace him.

Only after a long while did her fingertips reach the bandages over his eyes.

Her movements were slow.

Round by round, the bandages unwound.

The heaviness on his eyes eased.

Yu Zhu slowly opened his eyes, seeing the hazy, flickering glow, unstable and scattered.

Before he could fully focus, her palm again covered his eyes.

He blinked, adjusting to the light.

He noticed her palm trembling slightly.

Was she… nervous?

Why?

Her long, slightly curled lashes brushed his palm.

Ruan Suhua released her hand.

A bit of light entered his vision.

The scene gradually sharpened.

Inside, the room was rich with sunset hues.

Outside, snow gleamed pure and white.

Yu Zhu glanced at the world beyond the window, then lowered his gaze to see Ruan Suhua.

In the evening glow, she wore a strapless black gown.

Her thick, slightly curled hair fell over her shoulders, enhancing her fair skin.

The black bow half-tied at her ponytail, delicate diamond-studded earrings dangling from her lobes.

Her face was exquisite.

A high, straight nose, gentle, calm eyes, full of scattered glints.

The corners of her eyes curved slightly upward, hinting at subtle allure.

Elegant yet stunning.

“Xihe.”

He grasped the edge of the bed unsteadily, lips whispering her new name.

“Xihe.”

All previous imaginations could not come close to the reality of him in that instant.

The boy’s clear, light-colored pupils reflected the sunset, like a flame burning amidst night’s thorns, calmly looking at her, a god guiding the lost.

“Xihe…”

Her lips parted in a sobbing whisper.

Hands braced on the bed, she tilted her head slightly, inching forward to kiss him.

Warm, soft.

Like melted chocolate mousse.

The sunset glow diffused.

The neroli scent, fresh and passionate, mingled with her hair falling around them.

Fingertips brushed the corner of his lips, leaving a shimmering trace.

Ruan Suhua’s burning palm rested against the boy’s thin, frail back.

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