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Having handled projects worth hundreds of billions, Zhou Tingyun had never lost—yet he found himself losing to Ming Zhao time and again.
He told her to apply the ointment, but she lazily sank down into a seat.
“Go ahead,” the young lady commanded.
Zhou Tingyun shot her a glance but remained composed as he catered to her.
However, unexpected events can occur.
Ming Zhao didn’t anticipate that the bath towel, which had held on for so long, would reach its limit.
After applying the ointment, the moment she stood up, a sudden rush of air brushed her chest, making her eyes widen in panic—
In the next second, she was tightly pulled into his embrace.
The man stood in front of her, his large hand pressing against the bath towel on her back.
The towel swayed precariously, as if it could slip off at any moment.
Almost… Ming Zhao didn’t dare to move.
His dark eyes stayed fixed on her as one hand held the towel in place while the other wrapped around her just beneath her arm.
“Lift your arms.”
… Ming Zhao timidly and shakily raised her arms a little.
Zhou Tingyun took the drooping corner of the towel, re-wrapped it securely around her, and tucked it in.
As if he couldn’t feel the soft, melting touch of her skin beneath his fingertips.
Only when he confirmed it wouldn’t fall again did he release her.
His gentle gaze fell on her flushed cheeks and her panicked eyes.
“Now you’re scared?” His voice was cold and deep.
Seeing her in such a fluster, even if he was angry, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything harsh, only asking, “Will you do this again next time?”
Ming Zhao pressed her lips tightly together, remaining silent, her ears burning hot enough to feel like they might catch fire.
She wasn’t scared, okay!
She just…
Had forgotten to wear matching lingerie.
Oh no.
And then this incident led to Lin Zhiwei’s unabashed teasing.
[Hahahaha! Why did you go to all that trouble to look nice, only to end up with mismatched children’s styles?]
Ming Zhao lay under the covers, feeling utterly mortified.
Lin Zhiwei comforted her: [It’s okay! At least you managed to hold it together, which is better than showing off your childish color coordination.]
Ming Zhao: [Thank you.]
Just as she buried her shame in the pillow, she suddenly received another message—
[But you really don’t need to force yourself to pursue what you think is mature femininity. The people who like you will like you no matter how you look.]
Ming Zhao was shocked and immensely touched: [Baby!]
Lin Zhiwei: [Maybe he likes you just the way you are, silly and childish.]
She had let her emotions get ahead of her.
For the next few days, Ming Zhao obediently wore pajamas.
Zhou Tingyun noticed this and wanted to laugh.
But knowing it would only provoke her into a fit of embarrassment and anger, he played along, pretending that nothing had happened.
…
On Saturday, there was a ballet performance at the Grand Theatre in the capital.
The car pulled up to the theatre.
With a few hours until the performance, Zhou Tingyun rearranged and compressed his work schedule to free up the entire afternoon and evening, now accompanying Ming Zhao on a shopping spree.
Ming Zhao tried on some jewelry while the sales associate nearby showered her with compliments, lifting her mood.
While the sales associate was enthusiastic and dedicated, she had never been this exaggeratedly enthusiastic before, largely because she recognized that the man sitting on the sofa waiting was Zhou Tingyun, who frequently appeared in major financial reports.
His aura was commanding, his features handsomely defined, with long legs casually crossed, exuding a calm and refined demeanor. The watch on his wrist was beyond her ability to guess the price.
As he accepted a cup of tea handed to him by another staff member, he nodded slightly, offering a polite thank you.
In four years, the capital had changed significantly.
So, when Zhou Tingyun went to swipe his card, the sales associate excitedly complimented Ming Zhao, her face beaming with enthusiasm, delivering a classic line.
“Mr. Zhou is so good to you! I’ve never heard of him personally accompanying anyone shopping before; you’re the first woman he’s brought here.”
Zhou Tingyun, who hadn’t walked far, heard this and paused: “…”
Ming Zhao: “…?”
She struggled to stifle her laughter and expressed her gratitude.
Then, true to her persona, she gracefully walked toward the man in her high heels, intimately linking her arm through his.
Her eyes blinked playfully. “Tingyun, is what she said true?”
She adopted a charming, almost flirtatious demeanor, as if she were trying to tease her boyfriend.
“…”
The man observed the mischievous glint in her eyes and responded with a faint, compliant “Mm.”
“Pfft…” Ming Zhao couldn’t hold back any longer, resting her forehead against his arm as she stifled her laughter.
To the sales associate behind them, it looked like “Mr. Zhou generously admits his love, and his girlfriend is so moved she embraces him.”
She had just witnessed another sweet moment!
After dinner, it was time to enter the theatre for the ballet performance.
Perhaps it was the theme of love; everyone in attendance seemed to be couples, either holding hands or embracing closely.
Ming Zhao subtly slid her arm down his, finding a way to place her hand in his palm.
Noticing the man turn his gaze toward her, she leaned in closer, tilting her face up and softly saying, “My hands are cold.”
Zhou Tingyun didn’t say anything; he simply took her slightly chilly fingers and held them in his grip.
As they entered and took their seats, night fell, and the stage lights illuminated the area.
This was a story set in a tumultuous dynasty.
In the struggle for imperial power, the third prince, born to a concubine, held a lowly status and lived in the cold palace, where he was bullied by everyone and often left with injuries.
During those dark and dreary days, only his beloved royal sister, who was showered with affection, provided him with a glimmer of warmth, bringing him food and tending to his wounds.
He cherished this small happiness and sometimes thought that living like this for a lifetime would be just fine.
Until the frequent invasions by external enemies began.
He saw through the decaying core of the dynasty and, for the sake of the common people and his royal sister, who had never known hardship in the inner palace, began to gather his strength and reveal his potential.
However, time never waits for anyone.
The external threats were formidable, the land shattered, and chaos reigned.
The news of the princess’s political marriage reached the battlefield.
The message took at least half a month to travel from the capital to the border—by then, it was too late to change anything.
At this moment, the stirring beat of the drums sounded, and the poignant music heightened the atmosphere to a climax.
Finally, it gradually settled into calm.
The extinguished lights gradually brightened.
In the end, the story concluded with the third prince defending the city gates and dying valiantly on the battlefield, while the princess, tasked with an assassination, succeeded in killing the leader but ultimately faced execution.
The dynasty finally ushered in a century of peace.
As the actors bowed, Zhou Tingyun caught the sound of a faint sniffle.
Turning his head, he saw Ming Zhao with red-rimmed eyes, resembling a little rabbit.
He gently cupped her face with his hand and offered her a tissue to wipe away her tears.
Ming Zhao looked at his calm expression and wrinkled her nose.
“Zhou Tingyun, don’t you find it moving at all?”
“Very moving,” he replied. “Especially the princess; she was wise and brave.”
“Hmm?” Ming Zhao said, her nose also turning red. “What about the third prince?”
As he adjusted her hair, Zhou Tingyun replied, “It’s a pity that he indulged in momentary happiness, which led to such a tragic ending.”
Ming Zhao was puzzled. “Why do you say that?”
As the warmth of the room loosened the buttons of her coat, Zhou Tingyun fastened them for her, wrapping her scarf snugly around her neck. “The third prince grew up in the royal family and learned early on how fickle human relationships could be. He should have known that a princess so cherished would inevitably be married off for political reasons.”
“If he had managed to pick himself up sooner and cultivated his own power, claiming the throne before that, the outcome might have been different.”