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Chapter 52 — Stroking Upward from the Calf…

The hillside villa stood quietly, far from the dazzling nightscape of Harbor City, hidden amidst the dense forest that melded into the inky sky.

Cheng Wanting drove home and, after parking the car in the garage, noticed that the woman who had gotten out first didn’t wait for him and had already gone into the living room.

Bathed in faint moonlight, her slender figure swayed with the movement of her light green trench coat that fell to her calves. Her green stiletto heels clicked crisply against the floor, accentuating the elegant contours of her slender ankles.

Half an hour ago, Cheng Wanting’s hand had still been wrapped around them. Even now, the delicate sensation lingered on his fingertips.

After parking, Cheng Wanting sent Uncle Azhong and the others off to rest. As he entered the house, he subconsciously rubbed his thumb against his index finger, as if still feeling her residual warmth.

Back at the villa, Lin Keying returned to her room, took a rose-scented bath, and then changed into a nightgown before lying in bed.

Yet the corner of her eye caught a glimpse of the green heels, and her body seemed to remember something on its own.

A man’s broad palm had gripped her ankle firmly—his five fingers wrapped around her slender joint, making escape impossible. The rough pad of his thumb had stroked her skin…

Lin Keying sat up and looked at the spot below her left ankle—the very place Cheng Wanting had gently caressed. A small black mole stood out starkly against her snow-white skin, like an ink drop, leaving behind an indescribable tingling sensation.

She rubbed at the spot forcefully, trying to erase the lingering touch of the man, and soon drifted into deep sleep.

The next morning, when dawn’s light barely brightened the sky, Lin Keying rose and found that Cheng Wanting was already gone.

He was bound to be busy these days, with so many affairs to handle.

“Madam,” Ah Mei said, presenting a delicate dark blue gift box after Lin Keying finished breakfast. “The young master prepared this early this morning. He asked us to give it to you once you woke up.”

A gift so early in the morning?

As Lin Keying accepted the box, she wondered—earrings? Necklace? Bracelet? But when she lifted the lid, she found a silver chain resting quietly against the black velvet.

With slender fingers, she picked it up. The fine silver chain sparkled with tiny diamonds, and at intervals, small star-shaped pendants dangled, shimmering under the daylight.

She tried slipping it onto her wrist but found it didn’t fit quite right.

Lowering her gaze, she realized—it was an anklet.

The sensation of her ankle being gripped last night seemed to return again: tight, inescapable. Lin Keying quickly put the anklet back into the box and stowed it away in her room’s drawer.

——

Later, Lin Keying went to the Central district mall’s appliance section and picked out a washing machine and refrigerator to gift Auntie He’s family as a housewarming present.

The dessert shop business had stabilized and required little of her attention now. She just oversaw the profits, so she naturally put thought into gifts for her business partners as well.

A HK$2,000 washing machine and a HK$2,500 refrigerator — both spacious and stylish, the latest models. After paying, she left an address for delivery.

Before leaving, she glanced at the bustling scene in the Central mall and couldn’t help but look forward to a day when Xitian Plaza would be just as vibrant.

The leasing for Xitian Plaza was in full swing. The basement level would be filled with food vendors — traditional Hong Kong-style cafés, tea shops, noodle houses, roast meat eateries… Lin Keying had also reserved a prime spot for the fourth branch of her dessert shop.

The first floor would house high-end stores: gold shops, jewelry stores, jade boutiques, and major luxury brands. Lin Keying also planned to invite the three fashion giants of Harbor City to open outlets.

Women’s wear, men’s wear, children’s wear, sportswear, shoes… higher floors would be for office leases.

There was an endless stream of companies in Harbor City, many registering, listing, and collapsing in a constant cycle, ensuring high demand for office space.

On the 20th floor, Lin Keying had reserved half a floor for a property management office. Her hired team would manage the building from there, with her personal office at the far end.

“Ms. Lin,” an employee she recently recruited—someone with excellent social skills who’d been assigned to leasing—approached her. “These are the thirteen companies we’ve secured so far.”

Thanks to Wan Chai’s already strong reputation, lower rents compared to nearby Central, and the appeal of renowned brands moving into Xitian Plaza after renovations, the leasing had gone smoothly.

Lin Keying reviewed the list carefully, confirmed details with the business manager, and signed off. Then she inquired about progress with the three major fashion conglomerates.

“Ms. Lin, we’ve already sent invitations to representatives from the Xiang family, Wang family, and Chen family.”

“I know Uncle Xiang.” Thanks to the ceremony where she’d been formally adopted by her godfather and godmother, she’d met many bigshots—connections that now came in handy. “As for the Chen family, I have a good rapport with Madam Chen, their eldest daughter-in-law. You can handle the Chen family invitation.”

“Understood.”

Uncle Xiang, whom she knew well, quickly agreed to have his four major fashion brands move into Xitian Plaza. After a brief friendly chat, Lin Keying mentioned her godparents were still traveling in Singapore and invited Uncle Xiang and his wife for tea upon their return.

After hanging up, Lin Keying called Song Xiujuan, Madam Chen.

Previously, they’d met several times when discussing invitations for foreign luxury brands, so their relationship was cordial. This new invitation went smoothly as well.

Song Xiujuan didn’t put on airs — after all, it was a building that had attracted even foreign brands, and Lin Keying proved to be a capable, competent woman. Moving their fashion brands in only made sense.

“I’ll arrange for someone to coordinate with your team,” Song Xiujuan said as she hung up, sighing to herself, nearly letting something slip.

Without putting the receiver down, she dialed another number and waited for the other side to pick up.

After a few rings, the line connected, and she spoke her nephew’s name:
“Songxian, are you comfortable at the hotel?”

At that moment, in a luxurious suite at the Qitian Hotel in Wan Chai, Chen Songxian stood by the giant floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the bustling streets below, a broad smile on his face.

“Auntie, I’m great, don’t worry,” Chen Songxian replied sweetly. He was adept at charming elders. “Please, you and Uncle mustn’t tell anyone I’ve returned to Harbor City—not my grandpa, my parents, nor my sister.”

His cousin Cheng Wanting had a powerful grasp on things. If the rest of the family knew, the Cheng family would too—and who knew what punishment his cousin might mete out for sneaking back from South Africa?

A week ago, Chen Songxian had secretly returned from South Africa. When he arrived, Cheng Wanting and his entourage were still on the ship heading back.

He’d made it back faster than his cousin!

Having suffered enough studying aboard the ship to South Africa—and after enduring a month in Africa—Chen Songxian couldn’t bear the monotony any longer.

During ten days locked in his room studying, he’d devised a meticulous plan: pretend to willingly go to South Africa but secretly return the day after landing.

The Chen family’s representative running the apparel business in South Africa, being family, could be swayed despite Cheng Wanting’s instructions. After much emotional persuasion, the local manager agreed to cover for the spoiled young master.

The very next morning after arriving in South Africa, Chen Songxian boarded a giant ship from Harbor City’s other major shipping company, Global Shipping, and sailed home.

Harbor City’s shipping market was split between Cheng Wanting’s Huanyu Shipping and the British-owned Global Shipping.

He’d taken a British ship—his cousin wouldn’t be able to trace him. His plan was airtight!

He intended to quietly enjoy a few months in Harbor City, eating, drinking, and playing—so long as no one found out. Harbor City was so big; if he laid low, his busy cousin wouldn’t stumble across him.

After four months, he’d reappear claiming he’d just returned from South Africa—flawless!

The Chen family spoiled Chen Songxian endlessly, but none more than his uncle and aunt. With no sons of their own and a daughter married off, Chen Songxian was practically their half-son.

Facing his nephew’s secret plea for cover, Song Xiujuan and her husband softheartedly agreed.

To repay his aunt’s help, Chen Songxian volunteered:
“Auntie, the Xitian Plaza is just across from me—I’ll handle the business dealings for you. Don’t worry, I’ll ease your burden.”

After hanging up, Chen Songxian gazed out at the grand, deep-blue skyscraper and prepared to visit in the coming days to finalize contracts for the Chen family’s fashion brands.

++++

Having secured two of Harbor City’s three fashion giants—the Xiang and Chen families—Lin Keying leisurely went shopping again in Central, carrying several bags of autumn-winter clothes before driving her black Bentley home.

That night, Cheng Wanting once again didn’t return for dinner. Busy with work, he had Yang Minghui call to report in.

Lin Keying, playing the perfect virtuous wife, encouraged her husband to focus on work.

Work hard, earn more, and don’t rush home—fine by her.

After all, lately, whenever she thought of Cheng Wanting, her ankle felt faintly warm, as if his hand’s residual warmth still lingered.

After dinner, she took a walk in the hills and maintained her good routine—after a bath, she got ready for a beauty sleep.

The bathwater was infused with peach-scented body wash Ah Mei had poured in—one Lin Keying had just bought that afternoon.

The fragrance soaked into every inch of her skin, leaving her smelling sweet like a ripe peach.

By 9 PM, Cheng Wanting still hadn’t returned. Figuring he’d stay busy all night, Lin Keying sat cross-legged on the sofa, continuing to read her serialized Jin Yong novel.

At 9:25 PM, under the inky black sky, Cheng Wanting finally returned, pushing open the villa’s living room door. The first thing he saw was the woman on the sofa.

Her white nightgown draped loosely over her body, her snow-white skin appearing even fairer than the pure fabric, like blooming gardenias.

Engrossed in her Ming Pao novel, she reclined on the cushions, legs curled on the sofa. With each of her slight movements, the nightgown’s fringe swayed gently—an air of languid sensuality.

Cheng Wanting’s gaze slowly traveled—from her face, down her curves, and finally settled on her bare ankle.

“You didn’t like the gift I gave you Monday morning?”

His sudden voice startled Lin Keying, who quickly looked toward the doorway.
“You’re back? I thought you’d stay at the office tonight because of work.”

She reflexively tucked her feet back and pulled her nightgown down, clearly reluctant to discuss the anklet.

“Mm, I just finished dealing with urgent work.” Cheng Wanting sat at the edge of the sofa, his gaze still locked on her.
“You don’t like that silver chain?”

“Of course I do! I love it,” Lin Keying quickly replied. How could she say otherwise?

It was a beautiful chain. In her past life, she’d been fond of necklaces, bracelets—even anklets.

But because he was the one who gave it, it felt vaguely dangerous.

“Then why aren’t you wearing it?” Cheng Wanting asked crisply, his deep red silk dragon-patterned suit contrasting sharply with her white lace nightgown.

“I love it so much I wanted to treasure it,” Lin Keying hastily covered.

Cheng Wanting chuckled—a rare smile softening his stern demeanor, giving him an unexpectedly roguish charm.
“You’ve given me ties I wear all the time, suits I put on, even floral shirts I wear because you chose them. I give you one silver chain and you just want to stash it away?”

Sensing danger, Lin Keying quickly backtracked.
“I’ll wear it tomorrow.”

“No need,” Cheng Wanting said decisively, as if making a business deal.
“Wear it now. I’ll put it on for you myself.”

The beige sofa sank slightly under his weight. The man in the deep red suit gently lifted her white lace nightgown and slowly gripped her ankle.

Blocked by his words, Lin Keying couldn’t find a reason to refuse. She could only watch as he unclasped the anklet and carefully fastened it around her ankle.

The clasp locked perfectly, the thin silver chain resting against her fair skin. The cool touch made her shiver slightly.

Just as she tried to withdraw her foot to escape to her room, the man swiftly caught her ankle again.

His touch alternated between gripping and releasing—but this time, he simply stroked the anklet, making no further advances.

The anklet’s coolness sent chills up her leg, yet Lin Keying felt an inexplicable heat rising inside.

The man’s long fingers glided gently over the chain, occasionally brushing her skin with his fingertips—fleeting touches that vanished before she could react.

As his hand stroked lower, it finally settled on the small black mole below her ankle, lightly caressing it like an electric current, making her arms tremble with weakness.

Then, in the next moment—her breath caught—his long fingers slowly slid upward from her ankle, stroking her soft calf…

Her heart skipped. With a jolt, she grabbed the man’s wandering hand.

Her soft calf, under the force of his grasp, was left with deep indentations—the contrast of ivory and bronze skin deepening into the shadows.

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