Chapter 65: Taking in the Fluffball

Soft strands of hair brushed lightly against his chin, tickling him. As he turned his gaze, his eyes fell once more upon the slender, pale nape of her neck. The wide collar of her shirt allowed him to glimpse most of the skin beneath her clothing. His dark eyes gradually deepened, growing shadowy, yet the woman in his arms stirred. A warm, fresh fragrance drifted from her collar, rising straight to his nose.

He paused for a moment, slightly dazed.

Just then, Meng Yi’er shifted again, feeling the numbness in her legs had passed, and she spoke softly, “Yan Yichen, I... I’m alright now.”

Yan Yichen’s heart stirred; he was reluctant to let her go, wishing he could keep her locked in his embrace forever. Remembering how she used to scold him as a “rascal,” and now that things between them had eased a little, he still, albeit unwillingly, loosened his hold on her with utmost care.

Only after seeing her steady herself did he withdraw his hand.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Meng Yi’er nodded, her cheeks tinged with pink. “I'm fine! Sorry, my leg went numb just now.”

Yan Yichen’s lips curved slightly. “I know.”

Such a simple reply made Meng Yi’er pause for a moment.

“Thank you.”

Meng Yi’er tilted her head and noticed that Fluffy had already finished its food and was now dozing off lazily with its eyes closed.

“Fluffy is so well-behaved. I really like it.”

She hesitated for a moment before continuing, “Yan Yichen, I want to keep Fluffy. Since you’re its owner, I’d like to hear what you think.”

No sooner had Meng Yi’er finished speaking than his calm, cool voice sounded, “Alright...”

She wanted to keep Fluffy—Yan Yichen was, of course, willing. After caring for Fluffy for so long, he had inevitably grown attached to it. But because he was allergic to cats, it was never convenient for him to look after it. Naturally, he hoped Fluffy could find a good owner to care for it in his place.

He could tell she truly liked Fluffy.

“You agree?” Meng Yi’er looked at him, a bit surprised by how quickly he answered, as if he hadn’t even paused to think about it.

Yan Yichen raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. “Why not? Fluffy likes you a lot. Besides...” Fluffy staying with you gives me one more reason to see you.

“Besides what?” Meng Yi’er looked up at him, catching his eyes, which held a faint smile.

“It’s nothing... It’s late. You should get some rest.”

With that, Yan Yichen nodded, smiled gently, and strode away with his long, graceful steps.

Meng Yi’er watched his tall, upright figure retreat, recalling his unfinished words. Her delicate brows knitted slightly as she muttered, “Why is he always so strange...”

At the doorway, Yan Yichen suddenly stopped and glanced back at Meng Yi’er, his voice cool and even. “Tomorrow morning at eight. Don’t forget...”

Meng Yi’er was momentarily taken aback, not quite understanding his meaning. She looked at him with a trace of confusion, but after a moment’s thought, she understood. Rolling her eyes, she said helplessly, “Got it—”

—

After her shower, Meng Yi’er lay in bed, unable to sleep. She stared unblinking at the ceiling.

Thinking about Carson’s proposal, she knew she had been avoiding the issue, but running away was no solution.

She wanted to face it bravely, yet had no idea how to handle it.

She admitted that, aside from admiring Carson’s talent and respecting his character, she did have some fondness for him. But it lacked the wild passion and burning intensity that one imagines true love should have.

Though she couldn’t fully agree with his idea of marrying first and falling in love later, she could accept it.

Perhaps this was a relationship worth trying. Reflecting on her twenty-four years of life, she realized she had never truly liked anyone.

What she had felt before, at best, was just a mild fondness.

As she pondered this with her eyes closed, a handsome face suddenly appeared in her mind.

Startled, Meng Yi’er’s eyes flew open. That face was all too familiar—the strange man, Yan Yichen.

“Why did I suddenly think of him? I must be losing my mind...”

Meng Yi’er grumbled in frustration, burrowing restlessly under her blanket.

Why did she think of him?

She was supposed to dislike him, wasn’t she!?

At the very least, it certainly shouldn’t be affection.

Tonight, sleep was destined to elude her.