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As the gathering began to wind down, Wen Jinchu adjusted his glasses and set the wine glass in his hand onto the tray offered by a servant. His gaze dropped thoughtfully, lingering on the servant in front of him.
The one holding the tray was Liu Huahua. Under Wen Jinchu’s intense gaze, she blushed and lowered her eyes, mistakenly thinking that he was interested in her.
“May I have your contact information?”
Wen Jinchu’s voice was gentle and rich, with a magnetic quality that few women could resist.
Liu Huahua was secretly delighted. Of course she had her charms. Though she didn’t recognize the man before her, anyone who attended this gathering had to be wealthy or powerful.
She was just about to agree when she suddenly remembered the butler’s instructions from half an hour ago: the servants were strictly forbidden from sharing their contact information with any guests, even if asked directly, regardless of who the guest might be.
Liu Huahua hesitated, realizing she couldn’t be certain that Wen Jinchu was genuinely interested in her. If she gave him her contact information, it would mean jeopardizing her current job.
“Sir, there’s a rule forbidding servants from privately exchanging contact information with guests.”
The servant before him spoke the same words Tang Tian had, but their expressions were worlds apart.
The maid looked at him with reluctance and admiration, while Tang Tian’s gaze was steady and pure—devoid of any impurity or desire.
Wen Jinchu still wore that gentle mask. “It’s alright.” Before the servant could respond, he turned and left.
Liu Huahua watched Wen Jinchu’s retreating figure with lingering regret—so unwilling to let go. How could such a rule suddenly appear and ruin her chance?
Half an hour earlier, Tang Tian had been busy behind the water bar when the earpiece in her right ear suddenly crackled with the butler’s voice, announcing that all servants were strictly prohibited from exchanging contact information with guests—even if the guest requested it.
When Tang Tian first heard this, she was stunned. This new rule was exactly the same excuse she had used to reject someone’s request for her contact information just the night before.
Even as the gathering ended, Tang Tian still couldn’t understand—could it really be such a coincidence?
Before leaving the villa, Wen Jinchu spotted Tang Tian busy not far away. Surrounded by handsome and elegant men and women—each either wealthy or noble—she stood out as the most stunning, catching everyone’s eyes.
He glanced at the butler beside him. “Butler…”
Just as Wen Jinchu was about to say something to the butler, he noticed someone walking slowly behind Tang Tian. The man was tall and strikingly handsome—Pei Jue.
“Tang Tian, make a bowl of hangover soup and bring it to my room.”
Tang Tian was quietly tidying up when she suddenly heard Pei Jue’s voice. She looked up with a confused expression.
“Mr. Pei, should I do it now?”
Pei Jue rubbed his brow, his elegant neck muscles moving as his Adam’s apple slid up and down. “Yes, now.”
After speaking, he didn’t linger but walked toward the elevator on the upper floor.
Tang Tian responded to his retreating figure, “Okay.” For a moment, she sensed something was off but couldn’t quite figure out what.
She placed the last cup on the cart and pushed it toward the kitchen, still mulling over the sudden new rule announced at the gathering—how could it be such a coincidence?
With no time to ponder the slightly unusual Pei Jue, she went to the kitchen to prepare a bowl of hangover soup for him.
Meanwhile, Liu Huahua stood nearby, still gazing longingly at Wen Jinchu—so close to landing such a wealthy and handsome man, only for that blasted rule to spoil her chance at a good match.
“Did Mr. Wen just call for me?” The butler blocked Wen Jinchu’s gaze fixed on Tang Tian’s retreating figure.
Wen Jinchu met the butler’s calm, unyielding eyes. He hadn’t expected such clarity and sharpness in the eyes of a mere butler, as if his thoughts were being read through and through.
Wen Jinchu replied politely, “Nothing important. I’ll be going ahead.”
The butler nodded courteously, “Please come again when you have time.”
Watching Wen Jinchu settle into the back seat of his sedan, the butler’s smile slowly faded once the car pulled away from the villa.
As he turned to leave, he glanced a few times at Liu Huahua, who was still gazing outward. His expression grew even more serious.
In the kitchen, Tang Tian had just finished preparing the hangover soup. The chef had already left for the day, and when she arrived, he had even changed out of his uniform.
So it was up to her to cook. Once the soup was ready and placed on a tray on the cart, she headed to the upper floor.
Outside Pei Jue’s room, Tang Tian knocked twice on the door. “Mr. Pei, here is the hangover soup you requested.”
“Come in.”
Tang Tian heard his response and opened the door to walk inside. No matter how many times she entered, the cold tones in his room always gave her a feeling of loneliness and isolation.
To put it simply, the whole place felt chilling from head to toe.
She didn’t want to stay in his room for another second longer. She placed the hangover soup on his coffee table and, as usual, tried to leave without making a sound.
She didn’t want to attract Pei Jue’s attention—he didn’t like her, and even a second’s delay might make him think she was trying to seduce him.
“Wait.”
Pei Jue’s low voice came from behind. Tang Tian thought he was about to make trouble again and wondered if she had done something out of line.
Could it be that he found out about borrowing his blessing last night or the milk incident? It wasn’t like it was a big deal—a little milk, after all.
He asked, “Did any guest at this gathering ask for your contact information?”
Leaning against the chair in the light, Pei Jue looked elegant, his long legs crossed, still not meeting her eyes as he spoke.
Tang Tian didn’t expect this question and truthfully replied, “Yes, that happened.”
Only then did Pei Jue turn his head, meeting her gaze. “What was your first impression of him?”
Tang Tian was puzzled. “Mr. Pei, which one are you referring to?”
By the afternoon, as the gathering was about to end, several men had asked Tang Tian for her contact information over the past few hours, but she had refused them all with the same excuse.
Pei Jue seemed unsurprised by her answer.
“Wen Jinchu.”
The surname Wen? Tang Tian recalled—the man who had helped her pick up the cake spoon in the hallway.
She thought carefully, then shook her head. “I don’t have much impression of him.” She couldn’t even clearly remember what he looked like.
Pei Jue saw how seriously she was recalling, and it didn’t seem like she was lying.
He spoke slowly, lowering his tone, “No impression…”
Tang Tian nodded, “At that moment in the hallway, the cake spoon on my cart fell. That gentleman helped me pick it up. Later, he wanted to add me as a contact, but I refused.”
Pei Jue stared at her without blinking for several seconds. “You refused?”