Chapter Ten: Explanation

Was Wen Jingxing doing this on purpose? Why did he try even Nan Yan’s dishes, but refused to touch mine? Had he already lost interest in me? He used to nod and greet me whenever he saw me! If things went on like this, how was I supposed to get closer to him? And if I couldn’t, how could I ever become his...

The more Jian Anan thought about it, the more anxious she became, her mind completely elsewhere throughout the meal. Dinner ended quickly, the whole pot of fresh soup was wiped clean, not a drop left behind.

Only Jian Anan’s tomato and broccoli remained untouched, exactly as she’d served it.

Her partner, Jin Jianyi, noticed her discomfort and asked, “Are you feeling unwell? Do you want me to take you back?”

Jian Anan nodded, murmuring her thanks as she let Jin Jianyi support her on the way back, though her thoughts were still tangled around how to approach Wen Jingxing.

In truth, Jin Jianyi was a handsome man with a sunny disposition, the epitome of a wealthy upstart—generous and flamboyant. But compared to a family with a century-old legacy like the Wen family, he still fell short.

So, even though he was her assigned partner, Jian Anan found herself drawn to Wen Jingxing instead.

Unfortunately, Wen Jingxing was the epitome of aloofness. When she’d tried to strike up a conversation with him before, he’d only responded with a cool nod, never offering her a real chance to get close.

Now, he was keeping his distance even more, avoiding even the food she’d made...

Jian Anan clenched her fists, wondering what mistake she might have made to provoke such aversion.

Lost in these thoughts, her expression took on a hint of melancholy, and with her carefully applied makeup today, she looked all the more delicate and appealing.

Jin Jianyi, supporting her as she leaned closer, could almost feel her entire weight against him, her fragrance enveloping him. His heart thudded wildly in his chest, like a startled fawn.

The ambiguous air between them was a sharp contrast to the atmosphere on Wen Jingxing and Song Wanning’s side.

Normally, after dinner, everyone would have dispersed, but Li Weiwei suggested that the male guests escort the female guests back.

Had she not spoken up, the partners would have gone back together anyway. Yet with her suggestion, everything was tinged with the subtle tension of new couples testing each other’s boundaries.

The other three pairs all had sparks kindling between them—except for Wen Jingxing and Song Wanning.

These two: one sharp-tongued and cold, the other indifferent and taciturn. The chill between them was palpable.

Even the cameraman trailing them couldn’t help but wipe imaginary sweat from his brow on their behalf. Finally, when they reached the little building’s entrance, the cameraman hurried off with his equipment at lightning speed.

The two stood side by side on the porch steps. Without exchanging a word, they simultaneously reached for their keys, aiming for the lone keyhole.

Their hands brushed by accident.

Wen Jingxing recoiled as if scalded.

Song Wanning looked up at him. Was this man really so startled just by touching her? Why did he act more bashful than the girls from her previous life?

Perhaps sensing the awkwardness, Wen Jingxing said, “You unlock it.”

Song Wanning slid her key into the lock, turned it, opened the door, and stepped inside. She switched off the only camera still running on the first floor.

Suddenly, Wen Jingxing added, “The dishes you made tonight were delicious.”

Song Wanning’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Wasn’t Wen Jingxing supposed to be abrasive and never give compliments?

She responded without hesitation, “Thank you for your praise.”

In her previous life, she and her younger brother had lost their country and home, and their escape was fraught with hardship—the greatest of which was always food. Yet her brother was a picky eater, unable to stomach wild greens or game, spitting them out immediately.

Song Wanning had no choice but to invent new ways of cooking for him, only to discover an unexpected talent for it. Later, of course, state affairs consumed her, leaving no time for culinary pursuits.

As they changed their shoes in the entryway, Wen Jingxing watched Song Wanning crouch to untie her laces. Her dark hair was coiled and fastened with a silver hairpin at the nape of her neck, a few playful strands falling across her features, veiling her beauty.

Her face was breathtaking, her features rendered even gentler by the corridor’s soft light.

Perhaps it was the change in Song Wanning today, but the impact on him was undeniable.

Abruptly, he asked, “Weren’t you quite opposed to seeing me just two days ago? Why the change today...”

As soon as the words were out, he regretted saying so much.

“Hmm?” Song Wanning was momentarily taken aback.

Indeed, two days ago she’d given him nothing but trouble and disdain, and now, as if nothing had happened. Anyone would find it odd.

Seeing her hesitate, Wen Jingxing assumed she didn’t wish to answer and prepared to leave. After all, they were bound to break off the engagement eventually; there was no need for explanations.

Song Wanning thought for a moment, then spoke frankly, “Though I don’t want to be engaged to you, this wasn’t your doing. It was arranged by our elders. I guess you don’t want this situation either. What happened the other day was my fault. On reflection, you and I are both victims here. I don’t dislike you, so why make things difficult?”

She openly acknowledged the original host’s actions, since she now inhabited this body.

And she apologized straightforwardly.

The first day the original host arrived at Cloud Deep Resort, she’d bumped into Wen Jingxing at the entrance—and her complaints had continued all the way to the little house they shared. Many witnessed it at the time; Song Wanning couldn’t just pretend it hadn’t happened now.

Wen Jingxing told himself he hardly knew Song Wanning, so there was no need for so much conversation. Yet his body betrayed him—he paused at the foot of the stairs, listening to every word she said.

He began, “It’s not that I don’t want to...” and then hesitated.

“Don’t want what?”

Song Wanning’s thoughts were simple: they’d be filming together, and she’d be living with him for about a month. Even if forced into an engagement, she wouldn’t sulk and refuse to speak to him as the original host had. That would be childish.

Besides, Wen Jingxing was handsome and wealthy. Apart from being a little cold, he was quite outstanding in every other way. Song Wanning couldn’t understand why the original host had disliked him so intensely.

But the book gave the original host, a mere expendable character, scant detail. She had no way of knowing.

Seeing Wen Jingxing silent for so long, Song Wanning glanced up at him standing on the stairs, only to find him watching her with an odd expression.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s nothing. It’s late... you should get some rest,” Wen Jingxing said, turning to go upstairs.

Song Wanning: ???

What just happened? Did she say something that upset him? Where had the merciless, sharp-tongued Wen Jingxing gone?

“How strange...”

Baffled, Song Wanning decided not to dwell on it. She’d already worked late tonight, and their conversation at the door had delayed her further. If she stayed up any later, it would only harm her health.