Chapter 23:

Chu Zheng had stayed in the car earlier. When Mu Jinpei got in, he asked,
“If Madam Xie refuses to go to your office, what’s our next step?”

Mu Jinpei leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes to rest. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke:
“Someone as calculating as her wouldn’t not go.”

Right then, his phone vibrated. It was a message from Ji Xingyao:
[I’m going to sleep now. Don’t stay up too late.]

Mu Jinpei replied:
[You can actually sleep?]

Ji Xingyao:
[Mm, I’m exhausted. I didn’t go shopping—I played around in your gym all evening.]
She was worried that if she stayed up all night, she’d look tired and her skin would be in poor condition when meeting the Mu family elders tomorrow. So she ran and swam for over three hours until she was completely drained. Now all she wanted was to lie in bed.

Suddenly, Chu Zheng said,
“Mr. Mu, that looks like Vice Chairman Xie’s car.”

Mu Jinpei looked out the window. A black sedan had just parked a few meters away, and its taillights turned off.

Xie Junyi and Mu Jinpei got out of their cars around the same time. In the dark, neither could clearly see the other’s expression.

Xie Junyi had always been courteous toward Mu Jinpei, both in the past and now. He was surprised that Mu Jinpei had come to his house this late at night. A sudden worry crept into his heart.
“Did something happen to your mother?” he asked, realizing the inappropriateness of his words as soon as he said them.

His concern was all too obvious.

Mu Jinpei:
“My mother’s doing just fine.”

Then, looking at Xie Junyi directly, he got straight to the point:
“I heard you’re working with the Ji Group. Ji Changsheng suspects I’m not my mother’s biological son.”

Xie Junyi froze for a moment, then immediately understood the purpose of Mu Jinpei’s late-night visit. If word got out that Pei Yu didn’t give birth to a child, who knew what kind of rumors might spread.

No matter the situation, he could never allow Pei Yu’s dignity to be damaged.
“If you’re not Pei Yu’s son, then whose son would you be?”

Mu Jinpei:
“Thank you, Uncle.”
He turned and got back into the car.

The courtyard returned to stillness—quiet and dark.

Xie Junyi didn’t go inside. He stood outside smoking.

White smoke swirled through the air before being swallowed by the darkness.

“Thinking about your sweetheart again?”

Xie Junyi didn’t bother to respond. The red tip of his cigarette glowed in the night.

Mu Wenya had been standing in the yard for a while, though Xie Junyi hadn’t noticed her—or rather, he hadn’t even spared a glance in her direction. She was wearing a shawl, but the cold wind still seeped through.

Whenever something involved Pei Yu, he seemed like a man possessed. Just a few words from Mu Jinpei had left him looking dejected. She had endured this behavior for years.

“You treat Mu Jinpei better than your own son. Too bad he won’t even look you in the eye.”

Xie Junyi was long used to Mu Wenya’s biting sarcasm and didn’t say a word. He put out his cigarette and went back inside.

…

Mu Jinpei returned to the villa to find Ji Xingyao already asleep, her room lights off. He took off his coat and hung it up casually. He considered going upstairs to check on her, but after a few steps, he changed his mind.

When he was busy with work, she never disturbed him—never even called him. She was fiercely independent. But when they were together, she was extremely clingy—hugs and kisses were a must.

Jet lag had thrown off Mu Jinpei’s internal clock, and he wasn’t sleepy at all. He poured himself a glass of red wine and was heading back when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Turning around, he saw it was Uncle Zhang.

Zhang Bo wore a coat and carried a water cup. He lived in the room next to Ji Xingyao and had developed the habit of always watching over her. This continued even now at Mu Jinpei’s house.

He had heard noises from downstairs earlier and used the excuse of getting water to check on things.

Mu Jinpei poured another half glass of wine and offered it to him.
“This one’s pretty good.”

Uncle Zhang waved it off.

Mu Jinpei didn’t press him and instead pulled out cigarettes and a lighter.

Zhang Bo:
“I quit.”
He sipped warm water from his cup.

Mu Jinpei:
“You hadn’t quit the last time we met.”

He was referring to their meeting two years ago.

Zhang Bo:
“I’m getting older—my health’s not what it used to be.”
He nodded toward the upstairs.
“I’m going to bed.”
And then walked off.

Mu Jinpei turned off the main light. The large living room was swallowed by darkness. He turned on the floor lamp by the wine cabinet and sat alone, sipping his wine.

Memories surged like a tide.

When he finished the wine, he was still wide awake. He grabbed a cold drink and went to the gym.

…

The next morning, they set off for the estate in the countryside.

It took about two and a half hours to get from Mu Jinpei’s villa to the estate. Ji Xingyao was puzzled—there was clearly a helipad in the villa courtyard. A helicopter would have been much more convenient. Why hadn’t Mu Jinpei thought of it—or had he purposely avoided it?

Of course, she kept this question to herself.

Ji Xingyao leaned by the window, watching the scenery pass. Winter was bitter and bleak, and the landscape outside looked equally desolate. But the blue sky and scattered clouds were at least pleasant to the eyes.

The car’s interior was warm, like basking in sunlight, which made it easy to doze off.

She leaned her head on her hand and drifted into sleep.

Mu Jinpei was checking a message from Mu Wenya:
[If you have time in the next few days, bring your girlfriend over. Auntie will prepare caviar for you both.]

After a pause, he replied:
[Thanks, Aunt. No need to trouble yourself—my schedule is tight this time, and there’s a lot of company business to handle.]

Mu Wenya didn’t reply after that.

Her intention was clear. She wasn’t willing to go to his office, but she was too uneasy not to do anything. So she invited him to visit with Ji Xingyao as a compromise.

But a visit to her home was full of uncontrollable variables. She might record him, or worse—gather evidence against him.

Mu Jinpei deleted the message, turned to look at Ji Xingyao, who was half asleep with her head against the window. He reached over and placed his hand between her head and the glass to keep her from bumping it.

Feeling something soft, Ji Xingyao opened her eyes.
“Done with work?”

Mu Jinpei nodded.
“Lean back and sleep—you’ll hurt your head like that.”

His hand was still against the window. Ji Xingyao shifted closer, settling into his arms.
“This way, even if there’s a sudden stop, I won’t hit anything.”

Resting in the crook of his neck, she closed her eyes again.

Mu Jinpei:
“Didn’t sleep well last night?”

Ji Xingyao:
“Mm, I thought I’d pass out the moment I hit the bed, but I ended up tossing and turning like a grilled fish. I only got half an hour before dawn.”

Partly from jet lag, and partly because,
“Maybe I just haven’t adjusted to a new place.”

Mu Jinpei:
“But you slept fine on the plane.”

Ji Xingyao (teasingly):
“That’s because the plane smelled like you.”
She realized how bold that sounded after she said it, but couldn’t take it back.

Mu Jinpei looked at her.
“Then tonight, you sleep in my room. I’ll take the guest room.”

Ji Xingyao (playfully):
“Wouldn’t that be like a cuckoo taking over the nest?”

Mu Jinpei:
“Everything you do is right.”

Ji Xingyao smiled, leaned in, and tilted her head up slightly. Mu Jinpei lowered his head and kissed her.

After the kiss, she went back to napping.

Mu Jinpei looked down at her, her thick lashes fluttering slightly. He held her close and didn’t move an inch the rest of the ride.

After sleeping another two hours, Ji Xingyao felt much better. Before getting out of the car, she tidied her hair and touched up her makeup.

From the entrance of the estate to the front of the villa took quite a while by car. There was a river running through the estate and even a golf course.

The luxury matched her family’s estate in France.

The Mu family elders were not what she expected

Everyone: “…”
Their expressions were a mix of helplessness and apology as they looked at the old master. The message was clear: they couldn’t back him up.

Mu Jinpei and Ji Xingyao got out of the car. The driver opened the trunk and carefully took out the gift Ji Xingyao had prepared—a valuable collectible.

Ji Changsheng knew his daughter would be coming to New York. Whether Mu Jinpei was truly the son of an old acquaintance or not, proper etiquette couldn’t be ignored. He had personally prepared a gift for their first meeting.

The old lady waved at them,
“Let’s do a mixed doubles match today!”

The butler immediately fetched a new pair of badminton rackets and handed one to Mu Jinpei and one to Ji Xingyao.

Ji Xingyao had been nervous earlier, unsure of what to talk about with the elders. But clearly, that worry was unnecessary—there was no need for small talk or even formal introductions.

“Xingyao, do you know how to play badminton?” Grandma asked.

Ji Xingyao:
“I used to play a bit with my dad when I was little. Later, I occasionally played tennis, but it’s been years since I’ve touched a badminton racket.”

Grandma:
“I’m just playing for fun. I used to love tennis, but I don’t have the stamina for it anymore. And your grandpa refuses to wear armor—says it’s too heavy—so now we just play badminton.”

Ji Xingyao was confused.
Why would he need to wear armor?

Mu Jinpei explained:
“If he doesn’t, the shuttlecock hits him.”

Grandma chuckled,
“That just means your grandpa’s skills aren’t as good as mine.”

After about half an hour of playing, the grandparents grew tired and asked the butler to put the rackets away.

Grandpa suggested going to see the helicopter, so the four of them, accompanied by the butler, headed to the helipad in the backyard. The aircraft was blue and white—exactly the style and color Ji Xingyao liked.

Mu Jinpei seemed disinterested, showing no enthusiasm toward the helicopter.

Grandma didn’t understand,
“Jinpei, why don’t you keep one at home? It’s so convenient.”

Mu Jinpei:
“I rarely use it. It’d just sit there and go to waste.”

Of course, that was just an excuse.

Helicopters were a sore subject for him—one of his nightmares and scars, tied to the tragedies that happened to his birth parents and relatives on that side.

He hadn’t stepped into a helicopter in years.

Today was Ji Xingyao’s first visit to the family home, and the grandparents treated the helicopter as a gift for her and Mu Jinpei.

Grandpa said,
“You two have everything already, except a helicopter. This way, coming here will be much more convenient. No more hours-long car rides. Xingyao can also enjoy the view from the sky.”

Mu Jinpei originally planned to politely refuse, but Ji Xingyao liked it, so in the end, he accepted the gift.

Grandpa gently patted Grandma,
“Let’s go inside. You’re not dressed warmly—you’ll catch a cold.”
He himself wasn’t wearing much either. They’d all been in activewear for badminton earlier, and now that they’d stopped moving, the cold was setting in.

Everyone went back inside.

…

The interior of the villa was luxuriously understated—very similar to Mu Jinpei’s own home.

The grandparents returned to their rooms to change, inviting them to explore as they liked.

Ji Xingyao found photos of Mu Jinpei as a child: some with Pei Yu holding him, and others of Mu Wenhuai taking him racing.

She glanced at the photos, then at the present-day Mu Jinpei,
“You used to be so cheerful. How’d you turn into such an ice block?”

Mu Jinpei gave a faint “Mm,” not really answering. He took her hand,
“Come, I’ll show you the wine cellar—let’s pick a few bottles of red.”

To get to the cellar, they had to cross a small arched bridge over a frozen river.

Standing on the bridge and looking down, the entire estate stretched out before Ji Xingyao.
“Skating on this would be fun,” she said, pointing at the river.

Mu Jinpei:
“You can’t skate here.”

“The ice looks pretty thick.”

“Even if it is, it’s not safe if you fall through.”
Someone had actually fallen through before. A few years back, during the grandparents’ 60th wedding anniversary, they’d invited top executives from the group for a celebration and a bit of vacation time.

Back then, the river was frozen too. A group of kids played on the ice. One fell through, and Xu Rui jumped in to rescue him but got a leg cramp in the water.

It wasn’t a trauma for Mu Jinpei—but it certainly wasn’t a fond memory either.

Ji Xingyao (half-joking):
“If I fall in, just pull me up.”

Mu Jinpei looked into her eyes,
“If I pull you up, your clothes will be soaked through.”
He tilted his chin,
“Come on, it’s windy here.”
Then he pulled up the hood of her coat.

…

The wine cellar was professionally managed and divided into two sections—one for wines and one for spirits—each with different temperature and humidity requirements.

Ji Xingyao had no interest in spirits and headed straight for the wine section. Mu Jinpei, though familiar with the place, patiently accompanied her.

The shelves were filled with an array of bottles, gleaming under the cellar lights in a soft, dreamy glow.

She didn’t know much about wine, but she appreciated good taste after drinking enough of it.

“Are all these wines your grandpa’s collection?”

Mu Jinpei walked behind her, hands in pockets,
“Everyone in the family has wine stored here.”

“Each person gets their own section?”

“Not exactly. It’s organized by type. Each area has shelves for each person. The amount just varies. Grandpa has the most and even took over Grandma’s shelf.”

“What about you? Do you have a lot stored?”

“Not much,” he replied.
“Most of it’s from years ago. I haven’t had time to collect any recently.”

“Then I’ll pick from your shelf,” Ji Xingyao decided.
Then she suddenly got curious,
“Don’t tell me which one’s yours. I want to go by instinct.”

Mu Jinpei played along, falling silent as she browsed.

Ji Xingyao didn’t rush. She spent over half an hour touring the entire cellar, which was built in a loop design—easy to explore without needing to double back.

Each section had a unique design, with different lighting and ambiance.

“Okay, I’m ready to start picking,” she said, asking the staff for gloves.

Mu Jinpei told the staff,
“You don’t need to follow us anymore.”

Ji Xingyao passed by two sections without stopping, even though some of Mu Jinpei’s wines were stored there.

In front of the second shelf in the third section, she paused and carefully took down a bottle, examining the label.

Mu Jinpei gave the shelf a subtle glance. It belonged to Xie Yuncheng, and all the bottles there were his.

“It’s a good wine,” Ji Xingyao commented,
“but the alcohol content’s a bit high for me.”
She put it back and moved on.

She stopped again at the fifth shelf, drawn to a uniquely shaped bottle.
“I’m choosing this one.”
She didn’t hesitate at all.

Mu Jinpei watched her profile,
“You didn’t even read the label.”

“It was love at first sight. No need for labels,” Ji Xingyao said, though she still glanced at it anyway.
It had an even higher alcohol content than the previous bottle—high in tannins and acidity, aged for about ten years.

“Whose wine is this? Is it Teacher Pei’s?” she asked.
She was convinced they had similar taste, and Pei Yu must’ve chosen the wine for its beautiful bottle.

Mu Jinpei:
“Mine.”

Ji Xingyao blinked, thinking she misheard.

Mu Jinpei repeated:
“That red wine is mine.”

Ji Xingyao smiled softly,
“Then you were meant to be mine.”

Mu Jinpei stared at her. The cellar lighting was dim and intimate. He took the wine from her hands and placed it back on the shelf.

Ji Xingyao was confused,
“Are you… taking it back?”

Before she could finish the sentence, Mu Jinpei leaned in and kissed her, silencing her completely.

The atmosphere in the wine cellar was intoxicating, drawing Ji Xingyao into the moment. She began to respond to Mu Jinpei’s kiss. Unlike their previous kisses—which were always gentle and fleeting—this one was deep and passionate, completely unrestrained.

Ji Xingyao was wearing flat shoes and wasn’t tall enough, so she stood on tiptoe with her neck tilted back. This time, Mu Jinpei simply lifted her off the ground, holding her in his arms.

Although the staff hadn’t followed them inside, a few were waiting near the entrance. When they glanced in and saw the two kissing, they quickly looked away, pretending they hadn’t seen anything.

The kiss was exceptionally long, like the bottle of red wine Ji Xingyao had chosen—rich and lingering.

Mu Jinpei finally set her down. It took him a moment to regain his composure, and when he did, he was calm and rational again.
“Pick a few more bottles.”

But Ji Xingyao had already decided not to pick any more. What if she accidentally chose one that wasn’t his and ruined the mood?
“Let’s go. I just want this one.”

She handed the wine to the staff to have it packed.

…

Back at the villa, Ji Xingyao chatted happily with the grandparents about the wine cellar and all kinds of red wines. The conversation was lively and enjoyable.

Today, the atmosphere at home felt different. Every time Mu Jinpei visited the estate before, what he felt wasn’t familial warmth—it was suffocating pressure. As a child, he didn’t understand it, thinking his lineage made his grandparents unhappy. Only later did he learn it had more to do with the complicated emotional entanglements between his mother, his aunt, and his uncle.

For as long as he could remember, he had never seen his grandparents smile like they did today. It was also the first time he had ever played sports with them—probably thanks to Ji Xingyao.

There was no denying it: Ji Xingyao’s appearance, coupled with her elegant but unspoiled personality, made her especially endearing to elders.

Even Grandma said,
“The house hasn’t been this lively in a long time. Xingyao, if you’re not too busy, you should come visit often. As for the wine in the cellar—any bottle you like, just take it.”

Grandpa chimed in,
“I’ve got a lot of spirits stashed too. If there’s anything you like, take it home.”

Mu Jinpei glanced at Grandpa out of the corner of his eye. That level of generosity was rare. Even his father and Xie Yuncheng didn’t have the kind of privilege where they could take whatever they wanted from that collection.

The grandparents had also learned that Ji Xingyao had picked one of Mu Jinpei’s wines. They marveled at the coincidence.

Grandma said,
“That bottle was one Jinpei placed in the cellar when he was eighteen. His mother even joked at the time that they’d open it to celebrate when he finally got a girlfriend.”

Ji Xingyao snuck a glance at Mu Jinpei—he happened to be looking at her too. She smiled, mischief dancing in her eyes, as if to say:
You were always destined to be mine.