Chapter Fifty-Four: With a Little Power, One Begins to Rot Entirely
As if compelled by some mysterious force, Mai Xijun ceased all movement, remaining absolutely still as Shen Yanlie held her. She let him rest his chin on her shoulder, his entire weight leaning upon her, as if the moment she pulled away, he would collapse without warning or defense.
A subtle ache bloomed in Mai Xijun’s chest, her heart pounding so fast it seemed to lose its rhythm…
Whenever Shen Yanlie fell silent like this, he always left Mai Xijun bewildered, as though some emotion was quietly taking root within her, sprouting and growing. Had she fallen under his spell, or had she succumbed to his allure? Each time, she found herself unable to face him with the calm and indifference she so wished for…
She reached out to push him away, but discovered his hold was unyielding. He seemed utterly unconcerned by the rumors swirling outside, even less afraid of being seen…
“My cooking is quite delicious, isn’t it?” Shen Yanlie’s eyelids drooped slightly, a faint smile playing at his lips as he spoke each word slowly and deeply, his voice falling softly by Mai Xijun’s ear.
She froze, but within seconds of his words, Shen Yanlie abruptly released her and stepped away. After taking two strides, he lifted his wrist, glancing back at the still-stunned Mai Xijun, a charming curve at his lips. “One hundred yuan for every minute you’re late. It’s already two fifty-seven and forty-nine seconds. Do you have money to burn?”
He remained as composed and dashing as ever, his striking features searching her face with a mischievous, unrestrained smile.
Mai Xijun blinked rapidly, realization suddenly dawning on her. With a gasp, she darted past Shen Yanlie at lightning speed. “You really are something—give a man a little power, and he rots from the inside out!”
Her words scattered in the wind, fading away. Shen Yanlie laughed and shook his head, striding after her with long, easy steps.
The two-hour meeting was about the upcoming trip to Paris and all the necessary preparations, with Shen Yanlie personally presiding, and Mo Shaoxing, acting as his assistant, explaining the details.
At that moment, this enigmatic man was as commanding as ever, awe-inspiring and so striking it was impossible to look away. Though he sat just meters away, he still seemed distant and unattainable.
“Today’s meeting will be followed up with a printed list of notes for the Paris trip. Please read them carefully. If you have questions, raise them now or consult Manager Zhang afterward. He and I are jointly responsible for this journey. Since you’ve all been selected as the company’s elite, make sure you understand the purpose of this trip to Paris. Is that clear?”
Mo Shaoxing spoke with measured composure, every word exuding his exceptional presence. Unlike Shen Yanlie’s relaxed assurance, Shen Yanlie sat there with legs crossed, elbows on the table, his fingers lightly tracing his lower lip—every movement, every subtle gesture, exuded a sensuality that could set one's blood alight.
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
The responses came, scattered or in unison. Mo Shaoxing nodded and resumed his seat.
Shen Yanlie lifted his gaze, uncrossed his legs, and rose with noble ease, his fingertips lightly touching the table. “Since there are no objections, let’s begin preparations as soon as the meeting ends.”
Mai Xijun glanced at the list of mentors, their works, and detailed profiles distributed to her. As she had hoped, the designer she admired most was indeed among them. She never imagined she would soon be able to meet and converse with her idol—only three days from now…
It felt almost unreal, but joy and excitement far outweighed disbelief. Lifting her gaze, her eyes met Shen Yanlie’s for the briefest heartbeat before the contact broke.
Watching Shen Yanlie’s retreating figure, Mai Xijun turned her head slightly, her thoughts adrift.
Before leaving, Mo Shaoxing handed her a stack of documents. “Here’s more information on the designer you admire. Read up and get to know her better—it should help you.”
Mai Xijun barely had time to accept the materials and thank him before Mo Shaoxing had already turned and gone.
* * * * *
On the shuttle bus home, the passengers gradually dwindled until only two or three remained. A vague melancholy crept over Mai Xijun as she leaned against the window, her thoughts drifting far, far away.
She remembered her mother had loved jewelry design, though she spent her nights in nightclubs, drawn to extravagance and lavish living. Before she left, her mother gave her the most precious thing she owned—a bracelet she still kept. The pendant bore two initials: “m·y.”
If Mai Xijun’s guess was right, those were the initials of two names: Min for Chen Xue Min, and Yuan for Su Sheng Yuan.
So, after all, the person her mother loved most in this life had always been him. Yet he had abandoned both mother and daughter, while Chen Xue Min remained as stubborn as ever…
When she reached the building, Mai Xijun paused outside for a while before moving again. The lightbulb here was new—Shen Yanlie had replaced it. He had once carried her up every step of this stairwell when she was injured…
Every detail was etched in her memory, vivid as if it had all happened just yesterday.
But today, there was another woman by his side… The sight of the two of them arm in arm made her heart ache—a pain sharper and deeper than what she’d felt even after Xue Lizan’s betrayal. This pain was like being flayed alive, over and over, every inch of her body and soul stripped raw, never granting her the mercy of a clean break.
And yet, she had been the one to push him away…
He had appeared at every moment she was at her weakest, like a knight rescuing her from a besieged city. Yet she had been so resolute, insisting on cutting ties, declaring it would be best if they never met again in this life…
But he always appeared when she was least prepared. Now, even the thought of him made it hard to breathe; seeing him made escape impossible. She could no longer flee from the feelings that had quietly taken root within her heart.
The clever like to guess at others’ hearts—sometimes guessing right, but losing their own in the process; the foolish give their hearts freely—sometimes deceived, but never guaranteed to gain another’s in return.
Mai Xijun was by no means a genius, but at this moment, she knew she had lost. For she had guessed Shen Yanlie’s heart…
Out of habit, she pulled out her keys, weariness weighing her down. But before she could insert the key, the door opened from within.
A familiar scene—the soft glow of the light inside, the tall, upright man, her Hello Kitty apron, and the warm smile brightening his face. “You’re home.”