Chapter 11: Obsessive Cleanliness  

At dawn, as the eastern sky began to lighten with the first hints of morning, the alarm clock beside the pillow had yet to ring when Shen Simo slowly opened her eyes.  

Waking up one minute before the alarm, ready to greet the new day, was a habit she had cultivated over many years.  

She sat up first, stretching lazily, then spent twenty minutes doing a set of anti-swelling yoga before changing into workout clothes and heading out for a morning run before the sun had fully risen.  

After completing her morning routine and returning home to prepare breakfast, the clock struck six-thirty.  

Right then, Lu Huaichuan’s alarm went off.  

By the time Lu Huaichuan had finished washing up and hadn’t even had a chance to put on his clothes, Shen Simo was already knocking on his wide-open bedroom door, holding a plate of sandwiches.  

Though she had his permission, she still cautiously peeked inside, afraid of seeing something she shouldn’t.  

Everywhere her eyes landed was spotless—unnervingly so. The nearly two-meter-wide double bed in the center of the room was neatly made, without a single wrinkle.  

Even from the doorway, she could smell the fresh scent of soap, identical to the fragrance that clung to him.  

Venturing further inside…  

Shen Simo should have expected this man had no sense of propriety. Despite allowing her into his bedroom, he still hadn’t bothered to dress properly.  

Except, Lu Huaichuan wasn’t nearly as frail as she had imagined.  

His deltoids stood tall and pronounced, his biceps tucked beneath the muscles of his shoulders, his well-defined pectorals leading down to the stark contrast of his eight-pack abs. Even his serratus anterior muscles and V-lines were strikingly clear—no wonder he could pull her back effortlessly, leaving her no room to struggle.  

As for his lower half, it was completely blocked from view, leaving her with nothing to see.  

A physique like this was rare even among male models.  

Shen Simo swallowed hard, unable to bring herself to look directly at him. Instead, she turned her head slightly, using her peripheral vision to navigate forward. “Should I leave breakfast on your nightstand or the coffee table in the first-floor studio?”  

“Could you hand it to me, please? Thanks.”  

The man seemed utterly devoid of shame, showing no sign of embarrassment, nor any intention to cover his upper half with a towel.  

Then again, if he were particularly concerned about modesty, he probably wouldn’t have painted Duan Yu in that style of oil portrait.  

Steeling herself, Shen Simo strode over to him and sat on the sofa at the foot of the bed, openly stealing glances at the muscles Lu Huaichuan took such pride in. Her eyes traveled up and down, up and down, like a scanner.  

His skin was pale, the veins on his abdomen standing out prominently.  

Before long, her gaze involuntarily drifted even lower. This was the first time Shen Simo had observed a man’s body so closely, and within seconds, her face burned hot, her ears flushing red.  

Meanwhile, Lu Huaichuan acted as if nothing were amiss, holding the plate and scrutinizing the breakfast Shen Simo had made with genuine interest. “Carbs, protein, fats, fiber… Simo, are you a professional nutritionist? This balance is perfect.”  

Snapping out of her daze, Shen Simo licked her lips and replied, “I need to watch my weight, but I don’t like dieting, so I’ve read up on nutrition.”  

Lu Huaichuan: “As thanks, I’ll make lunch. I’m a decent cook.”  

“Praising your own goods, aren’t you?”  

“Don’t believe me?” He raised an eyebrow. “No matter. Lunch will make you a believer.”

Lu HuaiChuan finished his breakfast unhurriedly and then put on that same short-sleeved shirt with the collar stretched out from washing. He kept smoothing down the hem, refusing to allow even the slightest wrinkle on his clothes. “Let’s go downstairs. Time to work.”

“Lu HuaiChuan, do you have OCD or something?” Shen Simo asked.

“Do I? People say that, but I don’t think I have OCD. I just like keeping things tidy.” He straightened the vase on the coffee table, plucking off all the withered leaves and petals from the flowers and tossing them into the trash. “We’ll take out the garbage later.”

With that, Lu HuaiChuan put on an apron and began organizing the brushes in the pen holder. He then applied a thin layer of color mixing oil to the wooden palette. After preparing the paints he might need, he secured his wheelchair on the lifting platform, adjusted the height, and continued working on the nearly three-meter-tall painting.

When in work mode, Lu HuaiChuan’s gaze was sharp as a blade, his well-defined features making him seem even more imposing and unapproachable.

“Simo, could you pass me the palette knife? I forgot to grab it earlier,” Lu HuaiChuan said, lowering his head and beckoning to her. “The silver one in the pen holder.”

Shen Simo snapped out of her daze. “Oh, sure.”

“Why were you staring at my painting? Is it too beautiful?” He smirked mischievously. “Portraits and landscapes have always been my comfort zone. That abstract exhibition last time was just me pushing my limits—didn’t expect it to get such a good response.”

“I always thought your comfort zone was painting nudes…” Shen Simo mumbled honestly.

“What did you say?”

She shook her head to herself and handed him the palette knife. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

Lu HuaiChuan snorted, flicking her forehead lightly as he took the knife. “I heard you. You said I paint nudes. Not wrong, though. Back in college, almost a decade ago, I was really good at figure drawing. Even gained a bit of fame overseas for it—people still commission me for custom pieces now. Back then, I slept on the floor in the studio, living there every day. Aside from theory classes, all I did was paint figures—even dreamed about the models from the day. To refine my skills, I even took anatomy as an elective…”

Shen Simo tilted her head up, admiring the way he glowed while lost in memory.

Lu HuaiChuan recounted his past with such ease, as if he were radiating light.

“…I wasn’t in a wheelchair back then. Traveled around Europe visiting exhibitions, used binoculars to study church murals up close, learned all kinds of painting techniques. Who knew so many years would pass in the blink of an eye?” Suddenly snapping back to reality, Lu HuaiChuan scratched his head awkwardly. “Sorry, got a little carried away there.”

“Not at all.” Shen Simo moved the nearby ladder next to the lifting platform and nimbly climbed up. “I love hearing about it.”

Lu HuaiChuan’s eyes gleamed as he ventured, “Hmm, then can I trade my past for yours?”

“Which part do you want to hear? My college life was pretty boring.” Shen Simo’s eyes darted playfully before she landed on a more amusing topic, twiddling her fingers. “Want to hear about my dating history? More interesting than college.”

Lu HuaiChuan: “Really? You’d tell me?”

Shen Simo: “But trading your college memories for my love life isn’t a fair deal. Unless…” She grinned. “You tell me another secret no one else knows.”

“Of course. Come closer, I’d like you to sit beside me.” He set down the drawing board and patted his thigh.