Chapter Fifteen: "Defending One's Own"

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The entire private dining room fell silent in an instant. Everyone watched the scene unfold. Zhao Chen’s arrival had been so sudden, and his manner so calm and composed, that the way he stepped in to drink for Yu Ling seemed as natural as though he had rehearsed it a thousand times. The quiet forcefulness and instinctive protectiveness beneath his gentle exterior placed an invisible pressure on everyone present.

Wang Tao was rendered speechless by Zhao Chen’s fluid succession of gestures and his flawless words. He stood there with his mouth open, staring at Zhao Chen’s handsome, warm face—a face that nevertheless sent an inexplicable chill through him—then glanced at the subtle, assessing looks from his colleagues. A furious heat smoldered in his chest, but he could not vent it.

A husband drinking on behalf of his wife was only natural. And Zhao Chen had been so humble in manner, his words so impeccably gracious. If Wang Tao continued to make an issue of it, he would only look utterly tactless and vulgar.

“Hmph!”

In the end, Wang Tao could do no more than snort resentfully. With an ugly expression, he returned to his seat, picked up his glass, and drained a large mouthful before turning his face away.

A storm had been dissolved into nothing with effortless precision.

Lin Wei sat at the head of the table, wineglass in hand. Her gaze moved with interest between Zhao Chen and Yu Ling, and the corners of her lips curled into a meaningful smile. She said nothing.

“Sorry for interrupting everyone’s good time.” Zhao Chen set down his empty glass and offered the group an apologetic smile, his manner modest and courteous. “I noticed Lingling wasn’t feeling well, so I’m taking her home. Please carry on and enjoy yourselves.”

He naturally slipped an arm around Yu Ling’s slightly rigid shoulders. His touch was gentle, yet carried an unmistakable strength that allowed no refusal, and he guided her away from the table.

Yu Ling was still somewhat dazed. She let Zhao Chen half-embrace her as they left the private room beneath the complicated gazes of everyone inside. It was not until they stepped out of the restaurant and the cool night air rushed against her face that she abruptly came back to herself.

“How… how did you get here?” She turned her head toward Zhao Chen. The streetlights traced the perfect lines of his profile, and his eyes remained gentle, as though the cold-eyed, intimidating man from moments ago had been nothing more than an illusion.

“Didn’t I tell you? Send me your location when you’re done, and I’ll come pick you up.” Zhao Chen looked down at her, his eyes tender, a trace of helpless amusement in his smile. “You didn’t answer my messages or pick up my calls. I was worried you might drink too much and get into trouble, so I came up to check on you.”

He took out his phone and waved it lightly. Sure enough, several missed calls and unread messages showed on the screen.

Only then did Yu Ling remember that when Wang Tao had been pestering her, her phone had been in her bag, and she had not had the chance to look at it.

“I… I’m fine.” Warmth welled up inside her, mingling with lingering fear and a sense of grievance. “It’s just that Wang Tao…”

“Mm. I saw.” Zhao Chen’s voice was calm and emotionless. Only the arm around her shoulders tightened slightly, offering silent reassurance. “If you ever run into someone like that again, turn around and leave. You don’t need to spare him’s feelings. You can always find another job, but seeing you mistreated would hurt me.”

His tone was utterly matter-of-fact, yet it carried a certainty that made her feel safe.

Yu Ling’s heartbeat skipped. The words “it would hurt me” brushed lightly across the deepest part of her heart like a feather, leaving behind a strange, tingling sensation. She lowered her head and watched their shadows, stretched long beneath the streetlights, leaning close together. The frustration and anger she had felt in the private room were, strangely enough, soothed away.

They reached the Bentley parked by the roadside. Zhao Chen opened the passenger door for her. Yu Ling got in and fastened her seat belt, and the car merged smoothly into the traffic.

Soft music flowed through the cabin. Yu Ling leaned back against the seat. The effects of the alcohol, combined with the tension of the evening, left her feeling tired, and her eyelids grew heavy. She turned her head and studied Zhao Chen’s focused profile as he drove. Light and shadow shifted across his face, accentuating his deep, sharply defined features. His fingers around the steering wheel were long and strong, the knuckles distinct.

“Um…” Yu Ling hesitated, but could not help asking, “The way you looked at Wang Tao just now… it was terrifying.”

She remembered that fleeting flash of icy menace and still felt shaken.

At her words, Zhao Chen turned his head slightly and gave her a warm, harmless smile. His eyes were as clear as a newborn fawn’s.

“Was it? Maybe the lights were playing tricks on you. I’m usually very gentle-looking.” His tone was light, carrying a hint of smugness, as though he were saying, See how approachable I am?

Yu Ling: “…”

She would sooner believe a ghost.

She rolled her eyes in silence and decided not to press him. With this man, if he did not want to talk about something, she could pry his mouth open and still get nothing out of him.

The car entered the underground garage of their residential complex. Yu Ling unfastened her seat belt and pushed open the door. The moment her feet touched the ground, a wave of dizziness washed over her, and she instinctively caught hold of the door.

“Careful.”

Zhao Chen had already come around to her side and was once again supporting her arm securely. This time, his grip was firmer than before, carrying an unmistakable implication that he would not let her pull away.

“I’m really fine. Just a little dizzy…” Yu Ling tried to withdraw her hand.

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“If you’re dizzy, then you have even more reason not to be careless.” Zhao Chen’s voice brooked no argument. His arm tightened slightly, nearly enclosing Yu Ling against him as he led her toward the elevator. “I’m taking you upstairs.”

Half-held in his arms, Yu Ling’s body pressed against his warm chest. Through the thin fabric of their clothes, she could feel the contours of his firm muscles and the steady, powerful beat of his heart.

The pleasant scent of cedar mingled with a faint trace of alcohol—the red wine he had drunk for her—and lingered around the tip of her nose. Her face began to heat again, and her heartbeat lost its rhythm. She wanted to pull away, but the protective strength in his arm held her fast, leaving her unable to move.

The elevator rose. In the confined space, the sound of their breathing was clearly audible. Yu Ling could feel Zhao Chen’s warm breath brushing over the crown of her head. The atmosphere grew faintly charged.

Ding.

The elevator reached the sixteenth floor.

Zhao Chen helped Yu Ling out of the elevator and unlocked the apartment. Warm light spilled over them. He guided her to the bench in the entryway, then crouched down and, with utterly natural ease, removed her high heels. His fingers were warm against her cool ankle, sending a faint electric current through her.

“Tired?” Zhao Chen asked as he rose. His voice was gentle, but filled with concern that allowed no refusal. “Go take a hot shower first. It’ll help you relax. I’ll make you something to sober you up.”

Yu Ling watched his thick lashes lowered as he crouched before her, and saw the tenderness in every one of his attentive gestures. The restlessness stirred by alcohol and ambiguous intimacy mingled with the security of being protected, weaving itself into an emotion too complicated to name. She nodded and gave a soft little hum.

After her hot shower, Yu Ling emerged in soft cotton pajamas and felt considerably better. The faint fragrance of ginger and brown sugar drifted through the living room. Zhao Chen, wearing a dark-blue apron decorated with tiny whales, was carrying a steaming bowl of soup out of the kitchen.

“Here. Drink it while it’s hot.”

He set the bowl on the coffee table in front of her, then settled cross-legged on the rug beside her, relaxed and at ease.

Yu Ling lifted the bowl and took small sips of the warm ginger-brown-sugar drink. Its spicy heat carried a gentle sweetness, and warmth spread from her throat through every limb, dispelling the last traces of alcohol and fatigue.

She looked at Zhao Chen sitting quietly beside her. The lamplight rested on his gentle profile, and scenes from the evening passed through her mind one after another: the way he had drunk for her, helped her leave, and even taken off her shoes.

A warm current, mingled with an indescribable tenderness, quietly filled her heart.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice touched by a gentleness she barely noticed herself.

Zhao Chen turned his head. Warm amusement flowed through his amber eyes in the lamplight.

“You don’t have to be so polite with me.” He paused, as though remembering something, then leaned slightly forward and moved closer. A sly anticipation gleamed in his eyes. “Still, if Lingling really wants to thank me…”

His gaze meaningfully swept over her pajama-clad legs, curled up on the rug.

Yu Ling’s heart lurched. Even the hand holding the bowl trembled.

Not again!

“Well… the drink is delicious! I’m going to bed! Good night!”

Like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, she put down the bowl at lightning speed and sprang to her feet. Without looking back, she dashed into her bedroom and slammed the door shut with a bang. She moved so quickly that she stirred up a gust of air.

Watching her flee in disarray, Zhao Chen could not suppress the smile lifting the corners of his mouth. The amusement in his eyes shone like crushed starlight, bright and delighted. He picked up the half bowl of the drink she had left behind and took a leisurely sip, his gaze settling on the tightly closed door of the spare bedroom.

In a low voice, lazy with quiet confidence, he murmured, “A monk may escape, but his temple cannot. That lap pillow… you’ll have to repay me sooner or later.”

One week later.

The optimization results of the Starsea Project continued to emerge, with the figures climbing steadily and the project team in excellent spirits. After the morning meeting, Yu Ling was bent over her desk organizing the minutes when Xiaomei, the coworker beside her, leaned over. Lowering her voice, she spoke with barely concealed excitement and delight in gossip.

“Sister Ling, Sister Ling! Have you heard? Huge news!”

“What?” Yu Ling did not even raise her head.

“Wang Tao! The one who forced drinks on you at the dinner! He’s been transferred!” Xiaomei sounded thrilled.

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“Transferred?” Yu Ling finally looked up, somewhat startled. Wang Tao was unpleasant, but he had been with the company for years and was considered one of the department’s senior employees.

“Mm! He’s been sent to the newly established Lower-Tier Market Development Department, the one dedicated to working with supply-and-marketing cooperatives in remote towns and villages!”

Xiaomei raised her brows and made a knowing face. “A promotion in name, a demotion in reality! That place is in the middle of nowhere, the work is terribly difficult, and anyone sent there is basically being put on the bench. And he was notified first thing this morning that he has to report next Monday! It happened incredibly fast. Apparently, the transfer order came directly from headquarters’ human resources department. Even Director Lin had no idea beforehand! Wang Tao’s face went green on the spot. When he packed up, he looked as though someone owed him millions!”

Yu Ling froze.

The Lower-Tier Market Development Department? That place really was a hardship post in the wilderness. And the transfer had come so suddenly, so urgently—and directly from headquarters.

Her mind instantly flashed back to that night: the fleeting, bone-chilling coldness in Zhao Chen’s eyes when he looked at Wang Tao, and the calm yet overwhelmingly oppressive profile he had worn as he led her away.

An absurd thought, and yet one that seemed strangely logical, rose uncontrollably in her mind.

Could it… have been him?

“Lingling? What are you thinking about?”

Lin Wei’s voice suddenly came from behind her. At some point, Lin Wei had already walked over to Yu Ling’s workstation. She held a document in one hand and sharply surveyed Yu Ling’s slightly dazed face.

“Huh? Director Lin!” Yu Ling hurriedly stood.

Lin Wei handed her the document. Her tone was even. “This is the supplementary list for next week’s user interviews. Take a look.”

She paused, her gaze lingering on Yu Ling’s face for a moment, as though casually mentioning something. “By the way, have you heard about Wang Tao’s transfer to the Lower-Tier Market Department?”

“I… I just heard Xiaomei mention it.” Yu Ling nodded.

The corners of Lin Wei’s lips curved into the faintest meaningful smile. Her voice was not loud, but every word reached Yu Ling clearly.

“Mm. Some people reach too far and meddle too much. It’s time they went somewhere suitable to clear their heads. Headquarters’ decisions always have their reasons.”

With that, she gave Yu Ling a meaningful look, said nothing more, and turned away.

Yu Ling stood where she was, the document in her hands, while a tempest surged through her heart.

Were Lin Wei’s words merely a coincidence? Or were they a hint?

Headquarters’ decision? Somewhere suitable to clear his head?

She suddenly remembered Zhao Chen’s offhand remark about being an “ordinary employee,” as well as the mysterious and formidable company known as Starfall Capital.

If Zhao Chen’s position at Starfall Capital was far more than the “ordinary employee” he claimed to be… if he truly possessed enough influence to affect the decisions of Morningstar Technology’s parent company, which belonged to a major corporate group…

Then Wang Tao’s “exile” of a transfer—had it been a coincidence, or a precise and ruthless retaliation delivered silently by a man who fiercely protected what was his?

A chill crept quietly up her spine, only to be strangely smothered beneath an immense, indescribable sense of security.

Yu Ling stared at her somewhat dazed reflection on the computer screen, her fingertips curling unconsciously.

That man who wore a tiny-whale apron, shamelessly wheedled for a lap pillow, and could cow petty bullies with a single icy glance…

Beneath his gentle, harmless exterior, what kind of power lay hidden—power capable of turning the world upside down?

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