Chapter 35.2

“Not for the time being,” Ning Shuhui replied.

At nine in the evening, Ning Shuhui returned to her villa. After freshening up, she asked her housekeeper to open a bottle of wine. Alone, she walked into the garden. The moonlight was faint, and a cool breeze brushed against her. Pulling her shawl tighter, she gazed up at the sky, lost in thought.

She had first met Chen Jubai five years ago, back when his company had just started and he was struggling to secure a 500,000 yuan contract. She had overheard him vomiting in the restroom after being forced to drink excessively during a business dinner.

Concerned, she had called for a waiter to check on him, but before they could arrive, he had emerged. His face was flushed, but his steps were steady, his composure intact.

That man had left an impression on her—a proud yet resilient figure.

Months later, after conducting market analysis, she decided to invest in Guangnian as a trial. The returns were astonishing, leading her to invest further in other virtual reality startups, all of which paid off handsomely.

At first, Chen Jubai was merely a promising gamble in her eyes. Over time, however, she found herself genuinely drawn to him.

He was unlike any privileged young man she had met before. In less than four years, both Guangnian and his personal value had skyrocketed.

Now, as she sipped her wine under the moonlight, she couldn’t help but wonder how everything had changed so much.

He had no romantic interest in her—this was evident from their first meeting to every subsequent interaction. His eyes were always clear, devoid of any excess emotion.

Ning Shuhui wasn’t the type of woman who lived solely for love. She had more important priorities.

Yet, when Zhuo Wan called her with the news, she stayed awake the entire night.

After knowing him for years, she understood exactly what kind of person Chen Jubai was. He would never let personal emotions interfere with his work. For him to marry at this pivotal moment in his career would undoubtedly have some impact.

She was curious—intensely curious about the woman who had led him to settle down.

Today, by chance, she saw him accompanying his wife to buy sanitary pads, his ears slightly red. It was a side of him she had never seen before.

And that woman? She appeared entirely ordinary.

Behind her, the housekeeper’s respectful voice broke the silence. “Miss.”

Ning Shuhui turned around, taking the wine glass from the tray. She sipped, her gaze lifting. “Aunt Hong, am I beautiful?”

The housekeeper was momentarily taken aback but answered affirmatively, “Of course, Miss, you are stunning.”

“Am I old?”

“Not at all.”

Indeed, thirty years old. In others’ eyes, still quite young, yet two years older than him.

Ning Shuhui continued, “And do I have money?”

The housekeeper was momentarily speechless. How could the daughter of the Nansan Ning family lack wealth?

Realizing the absurdity of her question, Ning Shuhui waved her hand dismissively. “You can rest now.”

She turned her gaze back to the moon, letting out a soft sigh.

….

The ride home took just five or six minutes. Sitting in the car, Song Wei hesitated, unsure how to voice her thoughts.

She could sense a unique bond between Chen Jubai and Ning Shuhui. With Zhu Qi and the others, he was at ease, but his demeanor with Ning Shuhui carried a careful familiarity. It wasn’t exactly reverence, but there was something undeniably special about it.

Clenching her fists, Song Wei casually asked, “Why do you call her ‘sister’? Is she older than you?”

“Yeah, by a year or two.”

“Oh. I heard she was your first investor?”

Chen Jubai kept his eyes on the road. “Yes, but it wasn’t just an investment—it was a partnership. She owns 30% of Guangnian.”

So, this was their company. Ning Shuhui wasn’t merely an investor.

Song Wei pouted and decided to drop the topic.

Once home, the two began unpacking their shopping bags.

The box of condoms sat right on top. Chen Jubai calmly picked it up and walked to the bedroom. A minute later, he returned and resumed organizing.

As he prepared dinner, Song Wei busied herself setting up Snowflake’s little nook.

The cat tower had been upgraded before the move, and now Snowflake had more space to eat, sleep, and play. Song Wei arranged its bedding, filled the water dish, and poured cat food into the bowl.

The kitten, worn out from playing, obediently began eating.

Squatting beside it, Song Wei petted its fur while occasionally glancing toward the kitchen.

Chen Jubai was washing vegetables and cutting meat, his movements efficient and tidy. The open kitchen offered an unobstructed view of his work. He was no longer the man Song Gaoyi had once dismissed.

In their time together, Chen Jubai had proven himself to be a near-perfect husband. From his career to their daily life, and even in his interactions with her parents, Song Wei couldn’t find a single fault.

Their relationship had moved beyond the awkwardness of a newlywed couple. It had blossomed naturally into something intimate and passionate, with future promises gradually taking shape.

Song Wei looked back at Snowflake, stroking its fur. “Are you that happy about the move?”

Happy? Of course, she was. Deep down, she was a little excited about having a space for just the two of them.

Still, a thought lingered: their relationship had started so hastily.

They had feelings for each other, sure. But was this love?

He had said he liked her. But love? Was liking the same as loving?

Would they have ended up together if not for the layoff, the matchmaking, and her parents’ divorce?

If she had joined Guangnian as an ordinary employee, would he have noticed her? Would they have married?

What were his feelings for Ning Shuhui? Was she a partner who fought alongside him? Is she an achiever who accompanies him from the bottom to the top?

Lost in thought, Song Wei absentmindedly petted the kitten until Chen Jubai called her from the kitchen.

She shook her head to dispel her thoughts, deciding to let them go.

Things were good now. She was satisfied. Chen Jubai hadn’t done anything to betray her trust. There was no need to jeopardize their relationship in pursuit of some abstract notion of love.

Song Wei stood up.

In that moment, she froze, struck by a sudden realization.

Was she being greedy for wanting love?

This yearning went against her initial resolve when they had rushed into marriage: to live a peaceful life.

Her heartbeat quickened as she turned to look at the man setting the table.

Her mind buzzed with noise.

Chen Jubai noticed her standing there, dazed, and called out again, “Come eat.”

Song Wei snapped out of it, forcing a smile. “Coming.”

She sat down, and Chen Jubai ladled a bowl of soup for her. “Drink some soup first.”

She took the bowl and sipped, responding with her usual stream of compliments, boosting his confidence.

He served her another bowl and began cooking meat and vegetables, saying, “I mixed the dipping sauce for you. It’s not spicy—let me know if it needs more flavor.”

Song Wei didn’t check the sauce. Instead, she stared at him and suddenly said, “Do we have any wine? Let’s have a drink.”

He paused, lifting his eyes to meet hers. After a brief silence, he nodded. “There’s an opened bottle of white wine in the fridge.”

“I’ll get it.” Song Wei eagerly slipped on her slippers and ran to the kitchen. She returned with the wine and two glasses, pouring for both of them. She pushed a glass toward him. “Cheers to our new home!”

Chen Jubai hadn’t thought of it that way but agreed it was worth celebrating. They clinked glasses.

The white wine was stronger than she expected, burning her throat. She opened her mouth to cool it, and he chuckled. “It’s strong—don’t drink too much.”

“I’m just happy.” She set down her glass and focused on the food he had placed in her bowl. The chicken and beef, tender and juicy, paired perfectly with his special sauce.

“Chen Jubai,” she said, “I think you could be a top chef at a fancy hotel.”

He continued dipping the meat into the hotpot, sparing her a glance, and replied, “I don’t have the time or interest to cook for others.”

Song Wei froze for a moment, then curved her lips into a smile. “Only for me?”

“Mm, only for you.”

His quick and unhesitant response filled her heart with delight.

Song Wei raised her glass again. “Thank you, Mr. Chen.”

Chen Jubai lightly clinked his glass against hers. Even though he knew she was teasing, he deliberately said, “At home, you don’t need to call me Mr. Chen.”

“Then what should I call you?” she asked knowingly.

The man looked up, his dark eyes swirling with an unreadable depth. Song Wei grinned, refusing to say anything further. “Mr. Chen, I’d like some of that lettuce.”

Chen Jubai smirked faintly and placed the lettuce into the hotpot for her.

Song Wei didn’t eat much. After a bowl of soup and a few rounds of food, she felt about seventy percent full.

The kitten, Snowflake, wandered over, and Song Wei scooped it onto her lap. “Can cats drink chicken soup?”

Chen Juba, unsure, searched online and told her, “I didn’t add much seasoning, so it’s fine for a taste, but not too much.”

Song Wei let the kitten try a small amount from her leftover soup.

But the kitten got hooked, meowing persistently for more.

Song Wei gave it a gentle pat. “Just a taste! Do you want an upset stomach?”

Snowflake: Meow, meow!

Across the table, Chen Jubai watched with gentle eyes.

After she had her fill of playing with the kitten, he started clearing the table. “There’s still half a pot of soup left. If you’re hungry later, we can make noodles.”

“Okay~”

Once everything was cleaned up, he began washing the dishes.

Song Wei, no longer in the mood to play with the kitten, kept her gaze on him.

In the past, dinner might have included Yang Yingqiu or Song Gaoyi. Song Gaoyi would help him clean up the kitchen, while Yang Yingqiu would chat idly from the side or the living room.

Back then, her heart was full of happiness and warmth.

Now, in this new setting, with no parents present—just the two of them—Song Wei still felt that fullness. But there was also something new and indescribable.

As she set the kitten down and walked into the kitchen, she hugged him from behind without hesitation.

His body stiffened briefly. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

Song Wei shook her head slightly and turned him around. Without a word, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him. It was a tentative kiss, mirroring how he would kiss her, gently pressing and savoring his lips. Her movements were unpracticed but deeply stirring.

Chen Jubai’s hands, covered in soap suds, hovered awkwardly, unsure where to place them. Her sudden action caught him completely off guard.

“Song Wei?”

She didn’t care and pulled his hands down, placing them on her waist.

They stood there, embracing, until Song Wei tilted her head and smiled coyly. “Husband.”

Chen Jubai was momentarily stunned. Seeing the smile on her lips, his heart melted. He wrapped his arms around her waist and asked, “Isn’t this something you already know how to do?”

“Husband, husband, husband, husband,” she repeated with a radiant smile, clinging to him.

He leaned in to kiss her.

But she dodged, covering his mouth with her hand. “Finish washing the dishes first; I’m going to shower.”

His eyes darkened briefly, and his voice lowered. “Mm.”