Chapter 119: A Romantic Declaration of Love

Zhong Huayan stepped onto the yacht, her gaze falling upon a candlelight dinner spread with all her favorite dishes, the table adorned with gardenias. The fragrance drifted through the air, mingling with the gentle ripples of the river.

She smoothed her hair, which he had ruffled until it was a tangled mess. The playful atmosphere between the two of them, set against the backdrop of candlelight, turned intimate and shy.

Fu Yanyan maintained his calm, gentle demeanor, but beneath the surface, his heart was a raging sea. He had never gone to such lengths to be romantic for any woman, but yesterday, in his desire to please her, he had sought advice from others, deciding to try these things that young people enjoyed.

Zhong Huayan’s eyes glinted with mischief. She feigned surprise, then slipped away to the adjacent room to change out of her school uniform. As she ducked into the walk-in closet, she caught sight of the man stopping at the doorway, looking as though he had half a mind to follow her in.

"Don't come in. I'll give you a surprise in a moment."

A low chuckle escaped the man, and he answered with patience, "Hmm, I’ll wait. I’m in no rush."

Zhong Huayan surveyed the dazzling array of clothes, determined to pick the most seductive set. Her eyes landed on a long, white silk gown with black lace trim tucked in the back. As she slipped it on, the waistline fit her perfectly. She was surprised by how accurately the garments were tailored to her size, marveling at how Fu Yanyan seemed to know her measurements by heart.

As she pinned up her hair, the black mesh lace draped over her alabaster collarbones, teasing the eye with what it half-concealed. It was a brand of sexiness like a hunter catching a butterfly in the night; the cream-colored gown pooling on the floor was like spilled moonlight—elegant, secretive, and alluring without being overtly suggestive.

She walked out with a fluid gait, her heels clicking softly. Fu Yanyan felt his ears flush, and he let out a dry, self-deprecating laugh. His hand hovered by her waist, hesitant to pull her close. When his gaze fell upon the woman’s exposed back, his mind began to wander. His fingers brushed coldly against the tassels on the back of the dress, recalling how, in the car that day, those same tassels had tapped against her delicate hips. It was a thirst that could not be quenched. His Adam’s apple bobbed silently as he struggled to regain his composure. The more he thought, the more restless he became; she was like a butterfly constantly circling his heart, impossible to catch, yet skilled at capturing his attention and flying straight into his soul.

"A-Yan, is it a surprise? What are you thinking about?"

"I hate that we have to eat dinner first. You little demon, are you trying to torture me? Hmm?" His heartfelt words spilled out, and he bit her rounded earlobe in frustration.

"Don't bite, it hurts."

"My fault," Fu Yanyan murmured, then added under his breath, "A-Hua, you really are delicate."

"Things are very different from before, aren't they?"

"I never dared to hope for your love, your fragility, your dependence, or your coquetry in the past."

Zhong Huayan strolled to the dinner table and picked up her chopsticks. He was very attentive; he knew she had never liked Western cutlery or cuisine, preferring Chinese food and tea. Perhaps it was in her blood—whenever she worked abroad, she was always struck by a longing for her homeland. She sipped her tea, glanced at the red wine beside a box of cigarettes, and deftly opened the bottle with a tool. The aroma of wine drifted out, entwined with the scent of pure gardenias.

Fu Yanyan sat across from her and took the bottle to fill her glass. "A-Hua, I want to feed you. I want to spoil you."

Zhong Huayan didn't know if it was the alcohol or the beauty of the scenery, but for a moment, she wanted to cast aside all her principles to indulge him. Even if it were brief, even if it were a lifetime of folly, at least they would have had this.

Fu Yanyan’s eyes were always filled with sincere devotion. He was always open and unabashed in his expressions of love, always crazed and unscrupulous in his pursuit of her. Perhaps this love was suffocating, but she found she truly needed that suffocation—the emptiness and cold within her always required a bold, passionate love to fill it.

Liking someone is gentle and full of merits. But love is riddled with scars, flawed, base, crazy, and powerful. She didn't love Xu Chuyin, nor did she love Fang Wenjin... She found herself relying, just a little, on this hypocritical man—Zhong Yi—who fought through brambles for her, knew her needs, and dared to lay his hands on her. He was despicable and shameless enough, cold as an ice sculpture to the world, yet burning with feverish heat for her.

A living, open-hearted man. Truth be told, she trusted no one in this world, save for him. The tragedy of childhood sweethearts—just like before, in the Zhong family, two children who had relied on each other in the deepest parts of their hearts.

When Zhong Huayan remained silent in the face of his questions, he could no longer restrain himself. With a cunning move, he stepped forward and pulled her into his arms.

"What do you want to eat? I really want to spoil you into a little good-for-nothing."

"Pfft, where did you learn such sweet talk?" Zhong Huayan retorted, planting a kiss on his cool, firm neck. It was light as a dragonfly skimming the water, yet lingering and evocative.

"A-Hua, if you don't like it, why kiss me? I’m going to kiss you back just as hard."

Before she could react, the man, having long since removed his mask, buried his face against her neck, biting down with surprising force.

"Are you a dog? Do you only have teeth and no mouth?"

"I am a dog. Your little dog."

Fu Yanyan had occupied a position of power for too long, yet he was willing to humble himself for the woman he loved without a second thought. If it were anyone else, he wouldn't utter a word of softness even if his bones were broken. He was paranoid, obstinate, and relentless; if he decided he wanted someone or something, he would pursue it to the grave. If he didn't want it, he wouldn't spare a single word, even if it were offered to him for free.

"Oh, do you even know how to feed someone? This is too much, I can't fit it in."

He immediately picked up a smaller piece of rib. To tell the truth, his idea of feeding her had been inspired by that time at the Aomen boxing ring when A-Hua had fed him. Cooking and feeding were ways to cultivate feelings; it was a long, slow process, and given enough time, it would eventually become a habit.

"A-Hua, I have another surprise for you. Close your eyes." He coaxed her softly.

She closed her eyes, chewing as she did so...

"Alright. A-Hua, open your eyes slowly."

What greeted her gaze was the night sky filled with private jets, their white strobe lights flashing to form a massive heart. Behind them, clusters of fireworks bloomed, leaving a magnificent, spectacular display against the cold night sky of the capital. Different colored fireworks spelled out letters and characters, illuminating the entire black river. Even the people on nearby yachts and bridges were stunned into silence, pulling out their phones to capture the scene.

This brand of romance was the envy of all. While there were many powerful and wealthy people in the capital, no one else had filled the sky with a dense, seamless display of fireworks that fell like a meteor shower. While others used drones, he had used hundreds of private jets and private flight paths to outline a giant heart.

[YY loves HY forever, through all lifetimes, until the end of time.]

"Whether you love me or not is unimportant. I love you, anyway."

Fu Yanyan took the opportunity to say it, watching her expression closely. Zhong Huayan was moved—not by the money, but by the effort he had put into it. For the chairman of the Fu Group, this money was a mere pittance. But to find such thoughtfulness, amidst a busy life and a soul that had been tempered and scarred, was rare and precious indeed.

Her eyes turned red. With the night wind blowing, she appeared all the more like someone who had found joy so intense it brought tears, words failing before the tears could fall.