Chapter 53: The Self-Cultivation of a Canary (18)

The box was assembled from four sides, held together by silk ribbons. When the ribbons were pulled away, the box collapsed outward in four directions, and Shen Hanteng instinctively stepped back.

Yet in the very next moment, Shen Hanteng rushed forward with surprising speed to catch the person tumbling out of the box.

The young girl leaned against his chest, half-asleep, wrapping her arms around him as support, muttering, “What took you so long? I’m exhausted.”

Shen Hanteng: “…”

He glanced down at the girl clinging to his waist, his expression darkening.

“I’m a precious gift,” Ling Qiong whispered. “But for today, I’ll lend myself to you. Child, you’d better make the most of it.”

Shen Hanteng: “??” Child? What kind of daydream is this?

He shook her, his tone sharp and impatient. “Wake up!”

“Oh, right.”

The young girl let go and wandered out like a sleepwalker. Moments later, she returned, holding a birthday cake.

“Here. Take it.”

She didn’t care whether Shen Hanteng was ready—she simply let go. He had no choice but to catch it.

Ling Qiong fished out a candle from her pocket, then a lighter. She lit the candle, stuck it into the cake, and said, “Make a wish.”

In the warm, golden candlelight, her face became clear. Her eyes weren’t fully open, still dazed and dreamy.

Shen Hanteng wanted to toss both the cake and the girl out the door. But as he watched her sway unsteadily on her feet, the urge faded.

He closed his eyes and made a wish.

When he opened them, the girl seemed a little more awake, her head tilted as she studied him.

“What did you wish for?” she asked.

“None of your business.”

“So stingy.”

Shen Hanteng blew out the candle. Ling Qiong dipped her finger into the cream, apparently intending to dab it on his nose.

He leaned back, but her finger slipped, brushing his lips instead.

Compelled by some strange impulse, Shen Hanteng parted his lips slightly; her fingertip was caught by his tongue, and the sweetness and fragrance of the cream overwhelmed his senses.

The air grew subtly charged.

Shen Hanteng was the first to react. He retreated a few steps, looking away, his expression stormy.

“Just now, I…”

He tried to explain himself, but no explanation seemed right.

The girl didn’t respond for a long time.

Shen Hanteng turned back; she was gone.

He caught a glimpse of her on the bed—Ling Qiong had sprawled out and was already fast asleep.

“??”

Shen Hanteng set the cake aside, walked over, and tugged at her. “Go back to your own room.”

“Oh.” Ling Qiong murmured drowsily, then rolled over, wrapping herself in the quilt and burrowing into the bed.

Apparently, “rolling with the blanket” meant “rolling back to her own room.”

Shen Hanteng: “…”

Once again, he wondered which of them was truly the young master.

Suppressing his irritation, Shen Hanteng scooped her up—blanket and all—intent on tossing her out the door.

But the moment Ling Qiong’s head nestled against his chest, he froze in place.

…

The next morning.

Ling Qiong, still half-asleep, sensed something was off. Her small hands roamed around, feeling the warm, firm surface beneath them.

Why is this so warm? And why does it feel so good…

“What exactly are you looking for?” Shen Hanteng’s cold, gloomy voice sounded in her ear. Ling Qiong’s eyes flew open, meeting his brooding gaze.

Their position was more than a little compromising.

She was nestled in his arms, her hands wandering over his body.

Ling Qiong: “…”

What the—!

What kind of heavenly perk was this, so stimulating first thing in the morning?

Wait… Why was he here? Surely Young Master Shen hadn’t called her for a midnight snack, only to end up in her bed?

Ling Qiong spoke first: “What are you doing in my bed?”

Shen Hanteng replied, “Take a closer look—whose room do you think this is?”

Without moving her head, Ling Qiong rolled her eyes, and her defiance faded. Memories of the previous night came back in fragments, gradually forming a picture.

She wriggled out of Shen Hanteng’s arms, slipped off the bed, and forced a serviceable smile. “Young Master, I… I’ll take my leave now.”

She even thoughtfully tucked the blanket around him.

“Stop.”

“Young Master, I didn’t mean any harm.” Ling Qiong folded her hands in front of her, head bowed, her face an image of innocence and grievance.

Shen Hanteng: “…”

With no outlet for his anger, he waved her away. “Go.”

Ling Qiong slipped out at once.

Once the door closed, Shen Hanteng raised a hand to massage his brow, then lifted the blanket for a look.

Finally, with a frustrated sigh, he pulled the covers over his head.

…

Ling Qiong emerged from the room, her cheeks flushed, tugging at her collar for air, fanning herself with her hand.

Kelly happened upon her and saw the strange, giddy smile on her face. “Miss Ye? Is everything alright?”

“Ahem…” Ling Qiong cleared her throat, pressing her lips together. “It’s nothing.”

She hurried back to her room and opened her illustrated journal.

Last night, she’d drawn a card at random, and now the image had changed—

The soft glow of candlelight cast the scene in an intimate hue. Shen Hanteng sat on the floor with a cake before him, his long, fair fingers scooping a bit of cream to his lips, caught between tasting and restraint—a look both ascetic and alluring.

Raising a child really was delightful.

Ling Qiong rolled blissfully across the bed, then sat up, sighing and shaking her head.

It was just too expensive.

But still, she was happy. Hehehe…

Her joy was short-lived. As soon as she went downstairs, she was informed that Shen Hanteng had already left for school.

He hadn’t waited for her!

The kid was getting cocky!

There was only one car at the villa—how was she supposed to get to school?

“Miss Ye, perhaps I can drive you?” Kelly offered.

“You have a car?”

Kelly smiled and pointed to an electric scooter outside. “No need to worry about traffic. It’s very fast.”

Ling Qiong politely declined. “No, thank you.”

…

She made her own way to school by taxi, but as soon as she stepped out, her path was blocked by Zhao Yunye.

Ling Qiong took two wary steps back. “Zhao, what do you want?”

“Have you had breakfast?” Zhao Yunye asked.

…What? Of course… she’d eaten!

Ling Qiong replied, “Yes.”

Zhao Yunye was silent for a moment, then asked, “Lunch?”

Ling Qiong found his persistence odd. “I already have plans.”

He pressed on, “Dinner, then?”

Ling Qiong took a deep breath. “What are you up to, Zhao?”

“I just want to buy you a meal,” he said. “When are you free?”

“I’m not. I’ll never have dinner with you, so give up!” You won’t trap me that easily!

She slipped away.

She thought Zhao Yunye would stop bothering her, but to her surprise, his persistence only grew—he began to appear everywhere. The way he acted, it almost felt like she was being pursued, just as the original host had experienced.

Was the male lead trying to send her to her doom?

Ling Qiong considered this, found Zhao Yunye’s number, and sent him a message.

…

At the appointed time, Zhao Yunye arrived at the restaurant. Ling Qiong was already there, sipping her drink through a straw.

She was dressed beautifully, her golden hair cascading over her shoulders like seaweed, shining in the light.

Wherever she sat, it was as if the sun shone down, making her radiant.

Zhao Yunye had looked into her background—she hadn’t been like this before.

But after her disappearance, she’d changed completely…

“You’re here—have a seat,” Ling Qiong beckoned. “What would you like to drink?”

Zhao Yunye ordered a coffee for himself.

While they waited, neither spoke. Zhao Yunye kept his eyes lowered, lost in thought, while Ling Qiong played with her phone, each in their own world.

To any onlooker, they might have seemed like nothing more than two strangers sharing a table.

——Little Fairy——

Another day without inspiration, empty of spirit. I suppose I’ll just toss in a vote—sob sob~