Ruan Jiaojiao's hands were pinned behind her, and her mouth and nose were covered by a firm palm. A bone-chilling aura enveloped her from behind, and a formless terror spread from the top of her head throughout her entire body.
Even though Ruan Jiaojiao had been through quite a lot, at this moment only a single word echoed in her mind:
Danger.
The instinctive drive to survive made Ruan Jiaojiao struggle desperately, but with her meager strength, it was like a mayfly trying to shake a giant tree.
"You've got some nerve, daring to break into my territory, hmm?"
A cold, low voice sounded right beside her ear, accompanied by a wave of hot breath washing over her neck.
Ruan Jiaojiao shuddered.
This voice... It's him!
His palm was massive, and as he covered her face she couldn't breathe, feeling the air leaving her lungs bit by bit.
"Mm..."
Ruan Jiaojiao struggled, emitting tiny muffled whimpers, until little by little her strength faded away.
Yet the man behind her did not let go. Lowering his head, his gaze seemed to be appreciating some sort of spectacle, the corners of his lips curling into a bloodthirsty smile.
Suddenly, a warm droplet fell onto Fu Zhinian's hand.
Ruan Jiaojiao was crying.
Fu Zhinian paused for a second, then slowly loosened his grip, sliding his hand down to her chin. The crook of his thumb clamped firmly against her jaw, forcing her to raise her head.
"Cough, cough!"
Ruan Jiaojiao tilted her head back, coughing as she greedily sucked in fresh air. Her pale cheeks had been flushed red where he had pressed over them, her lips parted slightly, and paired with her tear-filled fox-like eyes, the sight made Fu Zhinian's lower abdomen tighten.
A sensation he had never felt before.
Everyone knew that Fu Zhinian kept women at a distance—a detached, ascetic, cold-faced Buddhist monk of a man—but no one knew his secret.
He had a hidden affliction.
At first, he had no idea he had this kind of problem.
It wasn't until sycophants trying to curry favor with him, or his good friends, sent one stunning beauty after another to his bed that he realized the truth: not only did he feel no urge whatsoever, but instead wave after wave of nausea rose within him.
He consulted a family doctor, but after examinations, the doctor gave him the verdict.
He suffered from a physiological disorder.
Refusing to accept it, Fu Zhinian sought out numerous other women, but none of them had any effect.
He even began to doubt whether his sexual orientation was normal, and tried seeing a few men.
The result was still the same.
Fu Zhinian resigned himself to his fate, remaining deeply depressed about it for quite some time.
He had expected to live out his life alone.
Yet now, this unprecedented sensation shot straight from the base of his spine to the top of his head, sending a tingling numbness through his limbs.
It was an urge to pin someone down on a bed immediately.
Ruan Jiaojiao felt as though her lungs had finally come back to life, having genuinely believed moments earlier that she was going to die.
As she regained her wits, she found herself locked in a pair of blazing, dangerous eyes.
His eyes were long and narrow, canted slightly upward at the outer corners—classic phoenix eyes that complemented his flawless facial features, complete with a small mole perched on the bridge of his high, straight nose.
This man was both strikingly handsome and uniquely striking, carrying an air of inexplicable wickedness.
Fu Zhinian was staring at her intently, just like a predator eyeing its prey.
Abruptly, his lips straightened into a thin line, and the hand cupping her chin tightened its grip slightly.
Ruan Jiaojiao winced in pain, her focus snapping back as she realized she was currently being imprisoned in his embrace.
Her hands were pinned by one of his hands, her back pressed hard against his chest. Standing at one meter sixty-eight, she barely managed to reach his shoulder.
And the posture was rather ambiguous.
"S-Second Uncle, it hurts..." Ruan Jiaojiao mustered her courage, letting out a pitiful whimper to complain of the pain.
Fu Zhinian's mind was thrown into a tumult by that single "Second Uncle," and the strange sensation intensified.
But as a businessman, restraint was his instinct.
Fu Zhinian slowly released his grip. The moment she was freed, Ruan Jiaojiao hurriedly backed away from his embrace, taking two steps forward.
A red ring had already formed around her wrist.
Fu Zhinian rubbed his thumb against his forefinger, as if lingering over the tactile memory of her skin.
Ruan Jiaojiao stood obediently before him like a child who had done something wrong, lowering her head to apologize.
"Second Uncle, I didn't mean to come here. I didn't know this was your house. It started raining, and I just wanted to duck in and shelter from the rain. I'm really sorry."
Fu Zhinian remained silent, simply looking her over.
In the dead of winter, she was wrapped in a thick coat, but the fabric had been washed until it was somewhat faded, matching the Converse sneakers on her feet.
When Ruan Jiaojiao received no response, she cautiously raised her head, only to find him watching her, which frightened her into lowering her gaze once more.
Fu Zhinian raised an eyebrow, walked over to the sofa, sat down, and crossed his legs.
"What's your name?" Fu Zhinian picked up his teacup, took a sip, and asked.
Hearing this, Ruan Jiaojiao replied, "My name is Ruan Jiaojiao."
Ruan Jiaojiao... Jiaojiao...
The name suited her; she was delicate and dainty just like it.
Fu Zhinian said flatly, "Lift your head."
Ruan Jiaojiao nervously twisted the hem of her clothes, slowly raised her head, and looked at Fu Zhinian.
Under the fixed gaze of those fox-like eyes, Fu Zhinian suddenly felt his throat go dry.
His expression darkened slightly, and he took another sip of tea.
"Come here."
Setting down his teacup, he beckoned to her.
Ruan Jiaojiao hesitated for a moment, then walked over anyway.
"Sit down."
Ruan Jiaojiao glanced at the sofa, walked to the very edge, and sat down.
Fu Zhinian raised an eyebrow. "Am I that terrifying?"
Ruan Jiaojiao shook her head hastily. "Not terrifying at all."
"Then why are you sitting so far away?"
Ruan Jiaojiao pressed her lips together. Could she say that he actually looked terrifying?
Fu Zhinian decided not to scare her any further, lest she actually burst into tears.
"Tell me, why did you come here?"
With her hands resting neatly on her knees, Ruan Jiaojiao answered honestly, "My mom and I don't have any quilts, and the nights are terribly cold. I wanted to go to Xiyuan to find my dad, but I took a wrong turn and ended up here at your place, Second Uncle."
Fu Zhinian let out a scoff. "So you're saying you broke in by mistake?"
Ruan Jiaojiao looked at him with utmost sincerity, nodding vigorously at him, terrified that if she nodded too slowly, he would suspect she had broken in on purpose.
Fu Zhinian leaned back against the sofa, resting his elbows on the back cushions, tapping his fingers idly against the upholstery.
"Do you know what happens to people who trespass on my territory?"
Hearing the distinct threat woven into his words, a trace of anxiety flashed in her pretty fox-like eyes.
"Second Uncle, I really didn't mean to! I'll leave right now!" Ruan Jiaojiao said, starting to stand up.
Fu Zhinian didn't stop her. Instead, his gaze dropped to her slightly frost-reddened hands, and he pointed at the coat hanging on the rack. "Take it."
Ruan Jiaojiao looked at the coat—it was the very one he had been wearing earlier when he appeared at the Third Branch's villa, clearly an extremely expensive piece of clothing.
"Thank you, Second Uncle, but I'm not cold—achoo!"
Right as she finished speaking, Ruan Jiaojiao sneezed.
Fu Zhinian watched her in silence.
Ruan Jiaojiao looked slightly embarrassed, standing there awkwardly.
"Put it on. Don't freeze to death; the Fu family can't afford to lose face like that."
Ruan Jiaojiao bit her lip, and after a long moment, she nodded. "Thank you, Second Uncle. Once I've washed it, I'll return it to you."
Fu Zhinian didn't reply.
Holding the black coat, Ruan Jiaojiao gave Fu Zhinian a slight bow. "I'll be leaving then, Second Uncle. Goodbye."
Still, Fu Zhinian said nothing.
Ruan Jiaojiao walked toward the front door. As she reached the threshold, a gust of cold wind rushed in.
She draped the coat over her shoulders and pulled it tight around herself, feeling her body warm up somewhat.
The coat still carried his scent—a faint trace of sandalwood mixed with a hint of traditional herbal medicine?
Ruan Jiaojiao felt a twinge of puzzlement. He didn't look like someone in poor health; why would he smell of herbal medicine?
However, she didn't dwell on it, quickening her pace as she stepped out of Xing Garden.