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Marriage.
Sleeping together in an embrace.
Biting him.
Just seeing these words associated with herself and a stranger was enough to cross Chen Shu Yin’s red line, let alone adding a name like “Pei Yu” at the end.
A whirlwind of emotions stirred inside her, clashing like a brawl. Her face felt as if it had been slapped, burning hot, while a searing heat surged through her forehead.
Every word Pei Yu spoke sent a near-suffocating dizziness through her as they funneled into her eardrum.
Sleeping in the same bed with him? She’d rather die.
From Pei Yu’s angle, he could see the flicker in her eyes—a telltale sign of extreme unease and fear—like a small, cornered animal. She was paralyzed, unable to move.
Her vision blacked out for a second, and she stumbled to the side.
Pei Yu rushed forward, grabbing her arm and straightening her up by his side.
Chen Shu Yin shrank her shoulders and withdrew her hand, shuffling a few small steps away.
He raised an amused brow, clearly unbothered, as if she were just playing around. He stepped forward with ease, his gaze melting like butter—rich and overwhelming. She couldn’t meet his eyes, so she turned away, darting her gaze everywhere else.
His hand reached out, patting the back of hers in a comforting gesture. His lips curved slightly as he looked into her eyes.
“What’s going on? Your acting today is way too convincing.”
“I made your favorite—cream cheese pasta with lots of mushrooms.”
Pei Yu pressed his cheek, rubbing the back of his hand against the side of his face that had been slapped.
“Wife, you really hit hard.”
Naturally, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, casually rubbing his chin against the top of her head as they walked.
“Let’s set some ground rules for role-playing next time. If I have a shoot the next day, no hitting the face, okay?”
He seemed to be relishing in both the slap and the moment.
Chen Shu Yin saw his eyelids twitch from the pain and momentarily forgot herself, almost speaking before clamping her mouth shut.
Pei Yu had never spoken to her in such a normal tone before.
No, wait—this wasn’t normal. It was abnormal.
With that razor-sharp tongue of his, the kind that could leave someone speechless in under three sentences, how could he possibly speak to her in such a gentle, indulgent tone—so much so that it gave her goosebumps?
Chen Shu Yin kept retreating, stubbornly yanking her hand away again and putting more distance between them.
She lowered her gaze, apologetic, and spoke gently, negotiating, “You can talk, just don’t touch me.”
At that moment, Pei Yu’s expression completely cracked. If she stood closer, she might even see his eyelashes tremble slightly, betraying the emptiness in his eyes.
“Baby?”
Though visibly stung by her avoidance, he still took a step toward her, his tone unchanged.
“Don’t call me that, I can’t handle it,” Chen Shu Yin said, hearing that word come out of Pei Yu’s mouth—so sincere, directed at her—causing a rush of blood to her head, leaving her dizzy.
This was beyond strange.
Pei Yu’s brows knit together at her words, his sharp eyes losing their usual cold edge, instead forming a hesitant and confused curve.
The way she backed away was like a young animal fleeing for its life. The coat draped over her shoulders slipped down to her forearm.
Cold air seeped through the oversized coat and into her upper body. She shivered, speaking slowly, “I have something to tell you. Take me home first.”
Chen Shu Yin refused to walk ahead of him or even beside him, genuinely afraid that the Pei Yu in front of her wasn’t… physically human.
A strange sense of panic took root in her heart, refusing to fade. She could even feel the goosebumps rise on her skin.
This “Pei Yu” was oddly obedient. He didn’t question her decisions—if she said one, he wouldn’t insist on two. He simply led the way in silence, occasionally turning back to look at her, as if afraid she’d vanish or run away.
But unlike a human trafficker’s fierce, ruthless glare, his pitch-black pupils carried an unmistakable sadness—a lonely, abandoned puppy kind of sorrow, overlapping and deepening. It looked like he was about to cry.
Seeing that, Chen Shu Yin suddenly felt a pang of guilt. For the first time, she wanted to curse herself—what kind of person was she?
Then she reminded herself—he was an actor. His eyes were meant to deceive.
Pei Yu stepped out of the elevator and paused for a moment.
In that single second of stillness, the surrounding air remained dark and lifeless. The hallway lights failed to flicker on. Only the warm glow from the elevator illuminated Chen Shu Yin, who hesitated in the doorway.
Her guard shot up. She stared at his silent back.
A tall figure, 187cm, standing with his back to her—yet, he exuded an overwhelming sense of desolation.
Chen Shu Yin hesitated even more.
She wanted Pei Yu to be alive—it made her feel better. But if he wasn’t the same Pei Yu from before, she couldn’t tell if he was pretending or if he was truly someone else.
Three years was a long time. Even if his supposed “death” was an accident, a personality couldn’t do a complete 180 like this.
A dog suddenly refusing to eat its own shit probably meant it was about to die.
“…Can you open the door first?” she finally broke the silence.
Pei Yu turned around and, completely off-topic, asked, “Is he back?”
Chen Shu Yin frowned. “Who?”
Pei Yu repeated, “Who else could it be?”
“Just say the name. Stop talking in riddles,” Chen Shu Yin said, shifting against the wall.
“We just got married, and you already regret it?” Pei Yu ignored her question and stubbornly pressed on.
Chen Shu Yin caught onto the word “just,” immediately connecting it to what Liu Yi Ran had said earlier—something about “showing off their love” and “being all lovey-dovey.”
So… she was talking about her and Pei Yu?!
“Why the hell would I marry you?!” Chen Shu Yin felt the world collapse.
The only romantic possibility she had ever entertained had been ruined by Pei Yu. And now, he was telling her they were married?!
How was this any different from marrying an enemy? Was she using herself as revenge?
Her face felt like a scorched frying pan, burning with suppressed frustration.
Pei Yu’s face fell completely when he saw her reaction. His once cocky demeanor crumbled—his hair, so perfectly styled earlier, seemed to deflate. His eyes reddened slightly as he choked out,
“Chen Shu Yin, stop messing with me, okay?”
“…Wait, Pei Yu, you—”
She wasn’t even crying, so what was he about to cry for?!
Chen Shu Yin, completely thrown off by his breakdown, frantically patted her pockets for tissues.
Pei Yu had never been someone to cry—especially not because of her.
She almost wanted to laugh. The absurdity of the moment shattered everything she thought she knew about him.
She reached for her phone to take a picture. Dead battery.
Suppressing a giggle, she made a frame with her fingers, pretending to take a mental snapshot.
Pei Yu’s gaze snapped to her. Chen Shu Yin immediately hid her hands behind her back.
She had to put an end to this nonsense. “I have something important to tell you. Can we go inside?”
Pei Yu lowered his gaze to her empty fingers. “Why isn’t your ring on?”
“…Huh?”