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“Ruan Liuzheng, you—”
Before Fu Yanci could finish his sentence, a series of beeping tones came from the phone.
Ruan Liuzheng had hung up on him.
Fu Yanci’s pupils contracted, and shock, disbelief, and anger surged into his chest all at once.
This was the first time Ruan Liuzheng had ever hung up on him since they met.
She actually dared to? How dare she?!
Staring at the blackened screen of his phone, Fu Yanci’s expression turned stormy. His fingertips turned white from how tightly he gripped the phone.
A blazing fire of rage erupted in his chest.
He had already given her a way out, yet she still dared to posture and throw a tantrum?
Ungrateful.
If she wanted to play hardball—fine.
He’d make sure she learned a lesson.
His eyes turned cold, and with a sneer, Fu Yanci blocked all of Ruan Liuzheng’s contact methods and calmly put his phone away.
Let’s see how long she can keep up this act.
He was going to wait—wait until she came crawling back, crying and begging for forgiveness.
After ending the call, Ruan Liuzheng stared blankly at her phone.
Beside her, her son was already asleep.
Despite all the noise just now, he hadn’t stirred. He must’ve really been exhausted.
She lowered her gaze slightly.
A wave of sorrow welled up inside her.
From the moment she decided to give up on Fu Yanci, she had stopped expecting anything from him.
Yet hearing his malicious, cold voice over the phone still made her heart clench uncontrollably.
It was as if heartbreak over Fu Yanci had become a reflex.
After all, she had loved him for so many years.
No matter how brave she appeared to others, no matter how much she prepared herself, how resolute her decision had been—
When facing reality…
Especially when she was alone, her vulnerability always came through.
Just like now.
The cold armor she wore was just for protection.
Her eyes were dry, but the tears seemed to have vanished too.
She didn’t want to cry, wouldn’t cry, and honestly… he wasn’t worth it.
“Miss Ruan, crying over a man like that is the most foolish thing a woman can do.”
Suddenly, a deep, magnetic voice cut through the silence.
It was like distant thunder, startling Ruan Liuzheng into raising her head. The sorrow in her eyes disappeared instantly.
She put her armor back on.
Her lips tightened slightly.
“How long have you been standing there?”
Xie Qingcen’s ink-dark eyes fixed on her, filled with unreadable meaning.
Noticing her tense expression, he curved his lips slightly.
“Not long. Just long enough to catch the beginning and end of your call.”
So he’d heard everything.
Ruan Liuzheng’s palm tightened slightly. A flash of displeasure flickered in her eyes.
“How considerate of you, Mr. Xie, to eavesdrop for so long.”
Xie Qingcen paused for a beat.
He wasn’t dense—he could clearly sense the irritation (or was it anger?) in her voice.
It was the first time she had ever shown him an emotion beyond polite indifference.
Oddly, he felt a touch… pleased.
Not that he was a masochist, of course.
With a low chuckle, Xie Qingcen explained,
“Apologies. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I knocked, but you were too absorbed in the call to hear.”
Ruan Liuzheng’s brow eased slightly. Her anger had nowhere left to go.
“You shouldn’t be eating anything too spicy, so I just grabbed some plain congee. Not sure if it suits your taste.”
He stepped forward and handed her a paper bag. His long, snowy-white fingers and noble demeanor were almost too graceful to look at.
Ruan Liuzheng’s gaze fell to his hand.
His nails were clean and neatly trimmed, his fingers long and fair, with distinct joints—like a work of art.
Elegant and refined.
“Ahem…”
Xie Qingcen cleared his throat softly, raising an eyebrow in question.
Ruan Liuzheng blinked, pulled her gaze back, and took the bag from his hand.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
She had always appreciated beauty.
As a former artist, she was trained to find aesthetic value in all things. That instinct hadn’t gone away, even if she hadn’t picked up a brush in years.
“Not hungry?” he asked. “Even if you’re not in the mood, you should eat something—your stomach won’t handle it otherwise.”
Seeing that she hadn’t opened the bag, Xie Qingcen frowned slightly and urged her gently.
He wasn’t exactly the nurturing type. In fact, he wasn’t known for patience at all.
Usually, just getting someone to the hospital would be the extent of his kindness.
Today, with Ruan Liuzheng, he had probably reached a personal record for patience.
Ruan Liuzheng’s eyes flickered.
Since her mother’s death and Fu Yanci’s betrayal, no one had shown her this kind of care in a very long time.
She offered a faint smile.
“Alright. I understand.”
She lowered her head and opened the paper bag. When she saw the logo printed on the packaging, she froze.
It was porridge from “Zhao’s Kitchen.”
A rising private restaurant brand in Yuncheng, Zhao’s Kitchen was known for its unique flavors and meticulous preparation.
No one knew the owner, but the food had gained a cult following.
Their food was excellent and reasonably priced, but with one strict rule: limited daily quantities.
No matter your wealth or status, first come, first served.
Even powerful elites couldn’t always get a taste.
Ruan Liuzheng bit her lip and glanced out the window at the dark night sky.
At this hour, Zhao’s Kitchen should’ve long since sold out.
How did he…?
Her gaze turned back to Xie Qingcen, suspicion rising in her heart.
She had been part of Yuncheng’s upper class for years after marrying into the Fu family. She’d met most of the prominent social figures, even if not intimately.
But she’d never seen or heard of Xie Qingcen.
She studied his features closely.
The surname Xie… why did it feel familiar?
And his face—why did it seem like she’d seen it somewhere before?
“What is it? If you’re curious, just ask.”
Noticing her hesitation, Xie Qingcen raised an eyebrow and smiled lightly.
A flicker of embarrassment flashed across her face.
She had always been reserved—getting called out so easily was a little embarrassing. But she quickly collected herself.
“As far as I know,” she began, “Zhao’s Kitchen sells out by this time. You…”
“I got lucky thanks to a friend. Why? Don’t like their food? I recall the chef being… somewhat passable.”
Xie Qingcen gave her a calm look and added,
“I just returned to Yuncheng. Still unfamiliar with things here. If it’s not to your taste, I’ll have someone fetch something else.”