Returning to the living room, she ran into Si Hang, who was holding a stack of documents and coming out of the master bedroom.

He was wearing a gray Japanese-style bathrobe, looking both ascetic and sexy. His hair was still wet from his shower.

They exchanged a brief glance without speaking.

Admiring his appearance for a moment longer than she intended, Zhuang Zi felt slightly awkward and raised the fruit plate in her hand: “I just washed these.”

He had planned to get a drink of water but paused and walked over.

As he approached, he glanced at her, noticing she was wearing the same nightgown she had worn during the incident. He quickly averted his gaze and sat on the sofa.

Despite trying to control himself, he couldn’t help but recall the image of her in her bedroom that day, the soft curves of her body under the nightgown.

He put down the documents, his Adam’s apple moving unconsciously, and took a piece of cantaloupe.

Zhuang Zi picked up a piece of kiwi with a toothpick and asked, “Can I read the books in your study?”

“Feel free.”

“Have you read all those books?”

Zhuang Zi rarely pursued a topic, but she was curious. Given his busy work schedule, she wondered when he had time to read them all.

He looked at her, his gaze clear, “Is there a problem?”

Zhuang Zi shook her head, “Just asking.”

After a brief silence, he resumed reading his documents while eating.

Zhuang Zi noticed that the papers were all in English, with many pencil annotations.

“Are you translating these documents?”

Si Hang glanced at her, remembering that she worked at a translation company.

“Yes.” He looked back down, pausing for two seconds before asking, “Can you understand it?”

“Of course.”

She was a professional translator, after all.

Si Hang raised an eyebrow but said nothing more.

“If you need help, I can try.”

Her family had helped her a lot, and she was willing to return the favor.

But the next second, he replied arrogantly, “No need.”

“……..”

Zhuang Zi looked at him, took a moment to compose herself, and continued eating her fruit.

After a while, she glanced at his papers again, noticing him frowning as he uncertainly annotated a word.

Zhuang Zi couldn’t help but press her lips together and kindly reminded him, “Production means output, while product refers to an item. The two words look similar but have very different meanings.”

Si Hang paused, then looked up at her, not looking pleased.

Zhuang Zi pretended not to notice, threw away the toothpick, wiped her hands with a tissue, and said calmly, “If there’s something you don’t understand, leave it on the coffee table, and I’ll look at it when I have time.”

“…….”

Si Hang stared at her for several seconds, unable to describe his feelings.

For breakfast, Zhuang Zi casually cooked a bowl of dumplings she had bought from the supermarket yesterday.

With Si Hang off to work, the house was quiet and empty.

She sat alone in the dining room, eating halfway when she suddenly thought of her sister, and a wave of sadness washed over her.

Her sister used to make dumplings and bring them to her, never letting her buy them from the supermarket. Comparing the two, she suddenly lost her appetite.

She missed that special taste.

After sitting in a daze for a while, she got up to clean the kitchen.

After breakfast, she went to her room, grabbed a few reference books, and settled on the carpet beside the coffee table to start taking notes.

The sun rose and set, the view of the river constantly changing, making the day pass quickly.

As the sun gradually hid behind the distant mountains across the river, the sky darkened, and the city lights began to illuminate.

Zhuang Zi looked up from her books, rubbing her aching shoulders.

She checked the time. It was past six. She wondered if Si Hang would be back for dinner.

She picked up her phone and sent him a message, but there was no reply for a long time.

Assuming he would eat at the station, she didn’t worry about it.

She ate a simple meal herself. Just as she was about to take a shower, her phone buzzed.

There were two messages from Si Hang. The first read: [Not coming back.]

The second: [Ate at the station.]

Zhuang Zi found it a bit amusing. He could have conveyed both messages in one, but he chose to send two.

Setting her phone aside, she headed to the bathroom.

Halfway through her shower, she heard the front door open.

She turned off the shower and heard him talking on the phone outside: “Send the data to my email first.”

A moment later, he asked, “Can Xiao Meng come back tomorrow?”

Finally, he said, “I’ll arrange it when I come in tomorrow.”

She turned the shower back on, finished quickly, and glanced into the living room, not seeing him. He was probably in his room.

She went to her bedroom, changed into her pajamas, dried her hair, and then went to the kitchen to wash some fruit.

Returning to the living room, she ran into Si Hang, who was holding a stack of documents and coming out of the master bedroom.

He was wearing a gray Japanese-style bathrobe, looking both ascetic and sexy. His hair was still wet from his shower.

They exchanged a brief glance without speaking.

Admiring his appearance for a moment longer than she intended, Zhuang Zi felt slightly awkward and raised the fruit plate in her hand: “I just washed these.”

He had planned to get a drink of water but paused and walked over.

As he approached, he glanced at her, noticing she was wearing the same nightgown she had worn during the incident. He quickly averted his gaze and sat on the sofa.

Despite trying to control himself, he couldn’t help but recall the image of her in her bedroom that day, the soft curves of her body under the nightgown.

He put down the documents, his Adam’s apple moving unconsciously, and took a piece of cantaloupe.

Zhuang Zi picked up a piece of kiwi with a toothpick and asked, “Can I read the books in your study?”

“Feel free.”

“Have you read all those books?”

Zhuang Zi rarely pursued a topic, but she was curious. Given his busy work schedule, she wondered when he had time to read them all.

He looked at her, his gaze clear, “Is there a problem?”

Zhuang Zi shook her head, “Just asking.”

After a brief silence, he resumed reading his documents while eating.

Zhuang Zi noticed that the papers were all in English, with many pencil annotations.

“Are you translating these documents?”

Si Hang glanced at her, remembering that she worked at a translation company.

“Yes.” He looked back down, pausing for two seconds before asking, “Can you understand it?”

“Of course.”

She was a professional translator, after all.

Si Hang raised an eyebrow but said nothing more.

“If you need help, I can try.”

His family had helped her a lot, and she was willing to return the favor.

But the next second, he replied arrogantly, “No need.”

“……..”

Zhuang Zi looked at him, took a moment to compose herself, and continued eating her fruit.

After a while, she glanced at his papers again, noticing him frowning as he uncertainly annotated a word.

Zhuang Zi couldn’t help but press her lips together and kindly reminded him, “Production means output, while product refers to an item

. The two words look similar but have very different meanings.”

Si Hang paused, then looked up at her, not looking pleased.

Zhuang Zi pretended not to notice, threw away the toothpick, wiped her hands with a tissue, and said calmly, “If there’s something you don’t understand, leave it on the coffee table, and I’ll look at it when I have time.”

“…….”

Si Hang stared at her for several seconds, unable to describe his feelings.