Wu Chunhe was still a little dazed when Aunt Cui called him down for dinner. Besides not having rested well, his whole body ached for some unknown reason. 

It smelled so good. 

As soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs, the aroma of the food wafted over, instantly awakening his hunger. Wu Chunhe felt much more alert. 

Lu Guihong, already seated at the dining table, put down his tablet and looked up when he heard the commotion. 

The young man descending the golden staircase looked slightly stunned. His long, glossy black hair was loose and slightly disheveled, making his already small, oval face seem even smaller. Lu Guihong watched him walk closer, and it seemed like the young man only noticed him then. His lips parted slightly in surprise. “Ah, Mr. Lu.” 

The man before him was only wearing a shirt, the collar slightly open, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing clearly defined muscles. Lu Guihong gave a cool “Mm” in response. 

It wasn’t Wu Chunhe’s fault; Lu Guihong’s seat was hidden behind a screen, and he hadn’t seen him when he came down. 

Embarrassment hung in the air, but luckily, Aunt Cui arrived just then, carrying the last dish—a steaming bowl of chicken soup with a rich aroma. Seeing Wu Chunhe standing there awkwardly, she quickly urged him to sit down. “Oh dear, why are you standing? Come, come, sit down. Try my cooking. I don’t know if you’ll like it, or if it suits your taste.” 

As she spoke, she ladled a bowl of chicken soup in front of the young man, her kind face expectant. Wu Chunhe glanced discreetly at Lu Guihong at the head of the table. Seeing that the man was eating and not looking at him, he quietly breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that, as he’d guessed, their cohabitation agreement meant non-interference. 

Thinking this, Wu Chunhe curved his lips at Aunt Cui. “Then I’ll try it.” 

He scooped up a spoonful of soup and took a sip. 

The golden-yellow chicken soup was delicious, warming his stomach. 

“It’s delicious. I really like it. Aunt Cui, your cooking is excellent,” Wu Chunhe said with a smile. He then ladled a bowl for Aunt Cui. “Aunt Cui, you try some too.” 

Aunt Cui happily accepted the bowl, saying “Good, good” repeatedly. 

She genuinely liked the young man. He was beautiful, graceful, well-mannered, and polite. Most importantly, she was getting older, and seeing such a young man entering into an arranged marriage, especially with someone like Mr. Lu—who wasn’t unkind but certainly not gentle—and noticing his pale face, which suggested poor health, filled her with sympathy. 

Wu Chunhe looked again at Mr. Lu, who was eating calmly. He thought for a moment, then ladled another bowl and placed it in front of Lu Guihong. He said softly, “Mr. Lu, yours.” 

Lu Guihong looked up, meeting the young man’s sincere and beautiful eyes. He took the bowl. His low voice was calm. “Mm, thank you.” 

Wu Chunhe smiled. 

After that, no one spoke at the table. 

Lu Guihong ate without any particular rules or the practiced elegance one might expect, while Wu Chunhe clearly exhibited trained table manners. The young man sat upright, eating slowly and gracefully. Under the wall lights, his skin looked like porcelain, his dark hair tucked behind his ears. When he lowered his head to drink the soup, his lips were slightly stained with moisture. 

One could tell at a glance that he came from a noble family with strict upbringing. 

Others would likely feel inferior, but Lu Guihong found him pleasing to the eye, like a beautiful painting or a lovely doll in a display case, making him forget his fatigue. 

Wu Chunhe didn’t notice the gaze from the main seat on his left. After drinking half a bowl of soup and eating some vegetables, he put down his chopsticks. 

Perhaps because he had just woken up, Wu Chunhe didn’t have much of an appetite, despite the delicious food. Or perhaps it was because he was used to lighter meals and vegetables at home, and the change in cuisine and taste was a little off-putting. 

Wu Chunhe excused himself and returned to his room. 

Aunt Cui wanted to encourage him to eat more, but seeing the weariness in his eyes, she said nothing. 

Lu Guihong also remained silent. After finishing his meal, before leaving, he glanced at Wu Chunhe’s place setting. The plate was clean, except for a few leftover vegetables, and a little soup remained in the bowl. 

He thought idly, Cat food. 

This thought persisted until the next morning. 

At seven o’clock, Lu Guihong came downstairs as usual, taking his phone and files while having breakfast. 

As he was about to leave, Wu Chunhe came down. The young man’s face was pale, his lips even paler, and he looked listless and lacking energy. Even his dark hair seemed duller. 

Lu Guihong paused his departure, frowning slightly. 

Wu Chunhe, feeling achy and lethargic upon waking, hadn’t noticed Lu Guihong sitting opposite him. He just wanted to eat something and go back to his room to rest. 

It was so strange; even lifting his arms was uncomfortable. 

Lu Guihong watched the young man listlessly drink some milk, but eat nothing else. Then, seemingly lost in thought, he got up and went back upstairs. 

Lu Guihong’s brow remained furrowed. He looked at the table; breakfast was plentiful—buns, fried dough sticks, soy milk, eggs, and milk. Did he not like Chinese food? 

He hadn’t eaten much last night, and even less this morning. How could his body handle such a diet? 

Thinking this, when Aunt Cui came over, Lu Guihong instructed, “Make a sandwich and take it upstairs.” 

Aunt Cui was startled, then, seeing the half-empty glass of milk, she realized. “Young Master Wu came down just now? He only drank half a cup of milk? He can’t eat so little… Alright, I’ll do it now.” 

Aunt Cui hurried to prepare it, while Lu Guihong finally got up and left for the company. 

Lu Corporation. 

In the spacious top-floor office, sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the vibrant green plants beside them. Lu Guihong had just returned from a meeting, his temper simmering. He sat in his office chair and rubbed his temples. 

A knock sounded. Xu Zilin entered with a cup of tea, placing it on the desk. “Mr. Lu, your tea.” 

Lu Guihong stopped rubbing his temples, picked up the tea and took a sip. Xu Zilin began to report the afternoon’s schedule. After he finished, Lu Guihong thought for a moment and casually instructed, “Put the project with the Wu Corporation on the agenda as soon as possible.” 

Xu Zilin was surprised. He hadn’t expected Lu Guihong to want to cooperate with the Wu Corporation so quickly. Was it because of Young Master Wu? But seeing his boss’s impassive expression, he thought he was overthinking. “Yes, I will contact them immediately to arrange the cooperation.” 

It wasn’t so much cooperation as Lu Corporation using it as a pretext to send money—one provides the money, the other the name, a win-win situation. 

The upper class was rigid and exclusive. Lu Guihong wanted Lu Corporation to go further, and needed to cooperate with the Wu Corporation. 

Lu Guihong took another sip of tea, then looked at the tea in his cup and frowned slightly. Suddenly remembering something, he looked at Xu Zilin and asked casually, “Didn’t you tell Aunt Cui that we didn’t need to prepare new tea?” 

Xu Zilin was clearly startled. “I did.” 

Did he? Xu Zilin suddenly became uncertain, pulling out his phone to check their chat history, then saw a new message from Aunt Cui. 

Xu Zilin’s face changed. Lu Guihong, seeing his change in expression, casually asked, “What? You didn’t?” 

Xu Zilin replied to the message and asked about the tea from last night, then said, “No, it’s just that Aunt Cui just messaged saying that Young Master Wu didn’t eat the sandwich this morning, and didn’t eat much at lunch either…” 

“Ding.” Aunt Cui replied quickly. Xu Zilin glanced at it while speaking, hesitantly looking at Lu Guihong. “Mr. Lu, I just asked Aunt Cui, and she said that the tea last night was made by Young Master Wu. After it got cold, he remade it several times.” 

Lu Guihong looked up, his dark eyes deep. The teacup was gently placed back on the desk. Silence descended. Just as Xu Zilin thought Lu Guihong would go check on him, Lu Guihong picked up his phone. The next second, the sound of ten thousand yuan being transferred to Xu Zilin’s phone echoed. 

Lu Guihong: “Transfer the money to Young Master Wu. Let him buy whatever he wants. Also give him the driver’s contact information.” 

Xu Zilin was slightly stunned, then complied. 

Afterward, he looked at Lu Guihong, who was calmly looking at documents, and hesitantly said, “Mr. Lu, why don’t you add Young Master Wu? It would be more convenient.” 

Lu Guihong put down the documents and looked at him, his superior and condescending gaze making Xu Zilin sweat slightly. He kept his eyes down, then heard the low voice, “No need.” 

On the way home that afternoon, Lu Guihong leaned tiredly against the back seat of the car, closing his eyes to rest. 

Xu Zilin sat in the driver’s seat. After work, he habitually checked his personal phone, then found that Young Master Wu hadn’t received the transfer. Looking in the rearview mirror, he anxiously said, “Mr. Lu, Young Master Wu seems not to have received the money transfer yet…” 

Lu Guihong opened his eyes, his brow furrowed. 

Xu Zilin quickly offered a suggestion, “How about bringing Young Master Wu some desserts? He should like those things at his age, right?” 

Xu Zilin said many good things about Young Master Wu, such as that his weak body wasn’t his fault, that he might not be used to eating so little, that he might be too young to receive money transfers or that he hadn’t seen the message. 

He couldn’t forget the stunning glimpse he had when picking him up; Xu Zilin was a face-first person. He liked Young Master Wu very much. 

Lu Guihong was silent for a moment, then, thinking of Wu Chunhe’s pale and weak face, his brow relaxed. After all, he was still a young adult. He sighed and nodded. “Let’s go.” 

Car lights flashed, the Maybach slowly driving into the villa in the night. 

The car door opened. Lu Guihong held his suit jacket in one hand, his white shirt revealing his well-defined abdominal muscles, his sleeves rolled up to show his strong forearms. His imposing and sharp demeanor, his thick, prominent knuckles and veins, held several cute and pink dessert bags. 

The villa was brightly lit. Lu Guihong, carrying the dessert bags, walked into the villa and saw Aunt Cui anxiously approaching him. “Mr. Lu, Young Master Wu has been sleeping until now, and he didn’t eat dinner. I went to wake him up, but he said he didn’t have an appetite. Could he be unwell?” 

Generally speaking, a person can go a day without eating without any problems, but the young man looked frail, so Aunt Cui couldn’t help but worry. 

Lu Guihong handed his suit jacket to Aunt Cui, his gaze falling on the bedroom upstairs. No wonder he hadn’t received the money transfer; he had fallen asleep. Lu Guihong’s slightly disrupted mood was somewhat calmed.