Chapter 33: Years of Quiet Stillness

The blue diamond wing brooch pinned to Yu Ling’s collar was like a silent declaration, signaling that a certain boundary had been breached. Its brilliant radiance not only stunned the likes of Zhang Wei but also dropped a depth charge into the lake of Yu Ling’s heart, creating ripples that refused to fade.

The subtle, quiet atmosphere in the office persisted. After being called into Lin Wei’s office, Zhang Wei did not emerge until nearly lunch break. Her complexion was ashen and her eyes were red and swollen; she had clearly been severely reprimanded and might even have been formally disciplined. Upon returning to her desk, she didn't dare to glance toward Yu Ling again, looking completely deflated.

The other colleagues also tactfully withdrew their probing gazes, burying themselves in their work. However, whenever they occasionally swept a glance toward the deep blue spark at Yu Ling’s throat, their eyes still held lingering traces of awe and complexity.

Yu Ling forced herself to focus on the screen before her. She opened a project file, attempting to regain her work rhythm, yet whenever her fingertips tapped the keyboard, they would inadvertently brush against the cold platinum wing on her collar.

That hard texture felt like an electric current, instantly transporting her back to the car that morning: the warmth of Zhao Chen’s fingertips brushing against her neck as he leaned in, his low, gentle voice saying, "I’m here," and the genuine concern in his eyes. A strange, sweet, numbing sensation spread from the tip of her heart to her very limbs.

She even forgot to wonder: who was this "assistant" Zhao Chen spoke of? The one who could silently place a luxury shopping bag on her desk, complete with a priceless brooch? And Zhang Wei... how would the promise that she "would soon shut up" be fulfilled? These doubts, which should have put her on guard, were now suppressed by a more powerful emotion—a sense of security in being firmly supported and unconditionally protected, along with a secret, vain, and sweet feeling of being cherished by such a formidable force.

This sense of security and sweetness, like warm syrup, quietly wrapped around a heart that had once been cold and hardened by deception and suspicion. She began to grow accustomed to this protection, even becoming somewhat dependent on it. The one-year agreement felt like an old calendar left in a forgotten corner, its pages yellowing, its presence so thin it was almost negligible.

When she left work in the evening, Yu Ling walked out through the revolving doors of the Genesis Building. The golden glow of the sunset spilled over the streets, carrying the faint chill of the evening breeze. Subconsciously, she looked for that familiar, ordinary joint-venture car, but her gaze paused when it swept over the temporary parking space by the roadside.

Zhao Chen’s car was indeed parked there. But he was not sitting in the driver’s seat. His tall figure leaned against the car, hands tucked into the pockets of his washed-out jeans, head slightly bowed as he seemed to be checking his phone. The simple white T-shirt outlined his broad shoulders and narrow waist, giving him an exceptionally crisp and clean appearance.

As if sensing her gaze, Zhao Chen looked up. Across the dozen meters and the ceaseless flow of the crowd, his eyes precisely locked onto hers.

His amber eyes brightened the moment he saw her, and the corners of his mouth lifted into a natural, clean, and warm smile. That smile lacked the subtle lingering attachment he had shown when dropping her off in the morning, but it held a purer joy and a near-eager anticipation.

Yu Ling’s heart rate quickened involuntarily the moment his gaze caught hers. She hurried over.

"Waiting long?" she asked as she reached him, her voice carrying a lightness she hadn't noticed herself.

"Just got here a while ago." Zhao Chen stood up straight and naturally reached out to take the commute bag from her shoulder, his movements as familiar as if he were taking his own belongings.

His gaze lingered on her face for a few seconds, carefully examining her complexion, and his brows relaxed almost imperceptibly. "You look much better. How was your day?" He asked casually, though his eyes held a hint of subtle scrutiny as they swept over the blue diamond brooch still sparkling at her collar.

Yu Ling immediately understood what he was asking. She subconsciously raised a hand, her fingertips lightly touching the cold wings, and a faint smile appeared on her face—partly helpless, partly sweetened by being pampered. "Yes, it’s fine now. Thanks to your 'little surprise' and 'knight’s declaration'." She half-jokingly quoted the words from his message.

The smile in Zhao Chen’s eyes deepened, as if he had received some great affirmation and satisfaction. He didn't press for details, simply opening the passenger door with a gentlemanly gesture, his hand shielding the top of her head. "Get in. The knight is here to escort you home."

The car merged smoothly into the evening rush hour traffic. Soothing music flowed through the cabin, but the atmosphere was completely different from the morning. An intangible, warm tension permeated the air.

"What do you want to eat?" Zhao Chen asked casually, eyes on the road. "There are still some groceries in the fridge, or... we could eat out?"

"Let’s eat at home." Yu Ling looked at the familiar street scene outside the window, a long-lost sense of belonging to "home" welling up within her. "You cook." Her voice was soft but carried a natural sense of dependence.

Zhao Chen’s fingers on the steering wheel paused for a second, then his mouth curved into an even deeper arc. He turned his head to glance at her quickly, his eyes dazzlingly bright. "Okay. What would you like? Sweet and sour pork ribs? Steamed sea bass? Or that pineapple sweet and sour pork you mentioned wanting to try last time?" He listed the dishes with a lightness that betrayed the joy of being needed.

Yu Ling was dazzled by the "master chef" aura he suddenly radiated, and the sweetness in her heart thickened. "I want them all," she muttered, with the slight willfulness of someone just recovering from illness.

Zhao Chen’s low laughter filled the car, indulgent and pleased. "All right, it’s a deal! But..." he dragged out the tone, teasingly, "a knight expects a reward."

Yu Ling looked at him, puzzled.

"You’re doing the dishes tonight," Zhao Chen said with a straight face, though his eyes sparkled with mischievous humor.

Yu Ling was amused by his childish "bargaining" and couldn't help but laugh. "Deal!" A relaxed and tacit understanding flowed between them. That cold agreement? Who even remembered what that was!

The atmosphere at dinner was incredibly cozy. Zhao Chen’s figure busy in the kitchen, wearing a little whale apron, the clatter of a spatula, the enticing aroma of the food... all of this made Yu Ling feel an unprecedented sense of stability and satisfaction.

He really had made the sweet and sour pork ribs, the steamed sea bass, and had even conjured up the pineapple sweet and sour pork! The tangy pineapple and crispy tenderloin, coated in a golden-red sauce, were perfect in both color and taste.

"Try this." Zhao Chen picked up a piece of the sweet and sour pork and naturally placed it in Yu Ling’s bowl, his eyes full of anticipation, like a chef waiting for praise.

Yu Ling took a bite; it was tangy, crisp, and perfect. She squinted in satisfaction. "Mmm! Delicious! Even better than the restaurants!" She gave her praise without reservation.

Zhao Chen’s smile widened instantly, filled with pure happiness, almost looking a bit silly. He picked up a piece of fish for her, carefully removing the bones. "Eat the sea bass while it’s hot, too. It’s light, and it’s good for your throat."

The meal was a harmonious affair. Yu Ling even took the initiative to share some interesting things that had happened at the company—avoiding, of course, the incident with Zhang Wei. Zhao Chen listened intently, interjecting with a word or two, and the atmosphere remained relaxed and pleasant. After the meal, Yu Ling remembered the "agreement" and stood up to clear the table.

"Leave it." Zhao Chen stopped her, naturally taking the bowls from her hands. "You’ve just recovered, don't touch the cold water. The knight’s reward can be put on my tab."

His tone was teasingly indulgent, but his actions were firm as he pressed her back into her chair. "Sit and rest, or... watch some TV? I’ll wash them. It’ll be quick."

Watching his back as he carried the dishes into the kitchen, the warmth in Yu Ling’s heart threatened to overflow.

She curled up on the sofa, hugging a soft cushion. A lighthearted variety show played on the television, but she was somewhat distracted. Her gaze kept drifting toward the kitchen, listening to the splashing water and the crisp clatter of dishes. A sense of satisfaction, of "peaceful, quiet days," filled her chest.

She had even begun to habitually search for his presence, habitually relying on his arrangements. This dependence was no longer the fragile clinging of her illness, but a heartfelt, greedy attachment to this security and pampering.

Life seemed to have hit a sweet fast-forward button. Yu Ling could clearly feel that Zhao Chen’s "clinginess" was growing exponentially. If his thoughtfulness before had been like rain silently moistening everything, it had now turned into an all-encompassing, blatant "land-grabbing campaign."