Chapter 64 The Villa
Just before clocking out Friday, Wen Bairan received a photo sent by Xu Lanjun on her phone.
It was an invitation card.
A garden party at Yuehu Mountain Villa.
Three days and two nights.
She had just opened it when Xu Lanjun’s voice note followed.
"Zhou Lin has been climbing the walls these past few days. Since there’s an event, why not come and have fun together?"
What kind of fun?
Could he have recovered from his illness that quickly?
If she remembered correctly, the doctor had ordered him to rest completely for two months.
Wen Bairan frowned, asking reflexively if he was even allowed to go out. Though Yuehu Mountain Villa didn’t seem far, outdoor activities probably weren’t suitable for his current condition.
Just as she sent the message, Qiao Yi pushed the door open and entered.
"Director Wen, Song Xu is looking for you."
Wen Bairan looked up, seeing Qiao Yi walking over with a mischievous expression, and paused. "What's he want? Isn't it quitting time?"
"Listen to you—since when has he ever cared about whether it’s off-work hours when he wants to corner you?" As she spoke, Qiao Yi took the chance to hop onto Wen Bairan’s massage chair, soon comfortably squinting her eyes and purring in satisfaction. "Hey, this chair of yours is really nice! You still haven’t told me where you bought it."
"If you like it, just have it moved to your office." Qiao Yi had been stopping by a lot lately, always plopping down here to fish for details about her and Song Xu’s progress. Might as well give the thing to her and keep Qiao from hanging around.
The backbone for the Ni Guang project was already in place, and after internal tests, it would be launched. Wen Bairan had a ton of work and little time to chat.
Qiao Yi gasped excitedly, "Really?! You’re this generous? This isn’t cheap, you know—are you serious? Should I really call someone to come move it?"
She asked several times.
Wen Bairan shut down her computer, stood up, and put on her jacket. Wearing a scarf in the office felt too warm, so she tied it around her bag. "When have I ever been stingy?" Besides, it wasn’t like she had bought it herself—no matter how expensive, it wasn’t her money to worry about.
"Call Ye Zhe right now and tell him Director Wen said to come move it."
Grabbing her notebook and pen from nearby, she passed by Qiao Yi on her way out, flipping her hair with flair and shooting a look that almost made Qiao Yi melt.
Qiao Yi jumped up from the massage chair and cheered, "Director Wen, you’re the best!"
Outside the office, department staff were gradually heading out, occasionally passing by and greeting her.
"Director Wen."
Wen Bairan responded with brief nods.
The news of Song Xu giving her a car downstairs that day had already spread.
Now, from company employees to the cleaning staff, everyone in this office building knew both their names.
This was the inconvenient part of office romances.
If both parties held similar positions, they could blend into the crowd, at most enduring a few jokes from close colleagues. But Song Xu’s title was way too high-profile. Everyone kept their thoughts to themselves, keeping it bottled up, and who knew how they’d fester behind closed doors.
Lately, the way people at the company looked at her had been a bit strange.
Qiao Yi said they were just surprised, mixed with envy and jealousy. Before, everyone only knew Wen Bairan was Song Xu’s former subordinate. Now that it was out in the open, and he had made such a showy gesture with the car, the two of them were showing off like they were in a TV drama—it was inevitable that some would feel some type of way.
She reassured her not to take it to heart, saying others’ jealousy was precisely the mirror proving her happiness, and she should just focus on enjoying being with him.
Deep down, Wen Bairan still didn’t really want a relationship. To her, "dating" was practically a derogatory term. But she didn’t say it—after all, outsiders were seeing green, and saying something like that would be begging for side-eye.
Still, Qiao Yi had a point. There was no need for her to care about what others said or did.
Working against the stream of people leaving work, she stopped at Song Xu’s office door and knocked.
"Song Xu."
A man’s voice came from inside. "Come in."
Plenty of folks in the hallway behind her were sneaking glances.
As if completely unaware, Wen Bairan pushed the door open and entered.
"Song Xu, you wanted to see me..."
Song Xu’s office was three times larger than hers, the biggest one in the company.
At that moment, on the guest sofa by the window, a blonde, blue-eyed woman saw her come in and got up elegantly, greeting her with a smile.
"Bonjour~"
...Wen Bairan rarely used the term "curvaceous" to describe a woman’s figure, but this one... truly lived up to the word. She stood at 180 cm, with long legs and a slim waist—her petite head and face seemed almost like genetic blessings. Her features were as exquisite as a doll’s, and her tight, low-cut black dress carried such an alluring charm that even Wen Bairan, a woman herself, felt her heart race and face flush.
"...Hello."
Noticing Wen Bairan staring blankly, the beauty’s crystal-clear green eyes swept over her before she turned to Song Xu and said a stream of French.
Song Xu replied something, then glanced over.
Meeting her confused expression, the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, like he was amused at her.
?
What did that mean?
Just as Wen Bairan was about to frown, the person opposite suddenly came forward and gave her a hug filled with the scent of romantic flowers, followed by enthusiastic cheek kisses.
She froze instantly.
"......"
After being released, another flurry of French followed.
She didn’t understand a single word.
Judging by the expression, the other woman seemed pretty taken with her. Wen Bairan blinked, momentarily unsure whether to smile awkwardly or not.
Somewhat a little lost, she glanced to the side.
Catching her pleading look, Song Xu pursed his lips faintly.
He took his coat from the rack, walked over, and made introductions.
"Fabiana, my former secretary, now the deputy general manager of Xilin China."
Xilin was their previous company.
Wen Bairan remembered Qiao Yi mentioning before that Song Xu had a secretary at the headquarters who couldn’t come with him due to visa issues. She never expected her to be his successor?
She quickly regained her composure and introduced herself in somewhat unpolished French.
Clearly, neither expected her to speak French.
Even Song Xu was surprised.
His gaze held surprise and admiration.
Wen Bairan had never actually studied French; she had only picked up a few phrases from movies after occasionally hearing him mention it.
She wasn’t good at it; her tongue always felt clumsy, and her pronunciation was awkward.
But it got the general idea across.
Flustered with surprise, Fabiana mixed up her languages. She first said something in English, then followed up with broken Chinese: "Song, she speaks French! Your girlfriend is so cute!"
Wen Bairan froze.
Song Xu gave a faint smile. As he stood beside her, he brushed against her shoulder, deliberately or not. Wen Bairan snapped out of it and looked up. The angle at which they stood, slightly staggered, brought her face-to-face with his narrow, sharp eyes.
His smile was distant with an outsider there.
Chilly, but not icy.
Her heart tightened at his displeasure.
"Th...thank you for the compliment."
Fabiana had come specifically to see Song Xu today. They hadn’t seen each other in a long time, and had some business to discuss.
She had arrived just ten minutes earlier, just missing the time when Qiao Yi went to the office to look for her, which was why Vivi hadn’t been warned.
Still, she was more curious about what kind of business could be wrapped up in ten minutes.
It was time.
Song Xu glanced at his watch and said politely, "Can I walk you out?"
Fabiana replied, "No, I won’t interrupt your date. Your partner has already reserved a restaurant."
Partner... Xiang Sun?
Wen Bairan had passed by his office earlier, and it seemed the lights were off.
Song Xu: "Hope we both have a good weekend."
Fabiana: "Absolutely."
They leaned in for a hug.
Fabiana’s arm accidentally brushed against her, and Wen Bairan took half a step back, watching their familiar intimacy. She sniffed slightly.
The room’s heating had amplified Fabiana’s perfume, making it smell like spring.
The scent felt faintly familiar, as if she had smelled it somewhere before?
"Goodbye, Vivi~"
Before she could ponder further, Fabiana blew her a kiss in farewell and swayed her way out of the office with her slender waist.
Wen Bairan, captivated, she watched her graceful figure until she left.
Song Xu put on his coat and noticed she was still holding a notebook. He called out to regain her attention: "Director Wen, it’s already after work. You can set what you’re holding aside for now."
His tone was gentle. Wen Bairan’s eyes shifted back from the door, her face blank, her slightly furrowed brow making her look a bit stern.
"Didn’t you ask me to come?"
Would Qiao Yi dare to misrepresent him?
In the brightly lit office, the footsteps of employees leaving work in the corridor outside the glass walls were sliced by the blinds into shadows less than half a finger wide. Muffled voices drifted in.
Song Xu faced her, his lowered brow casting shadows in his eye sockets that the light couldn’t penetrate. His figure leaning slightly toward her felt overwhelmingly oppressive, almost devouring all the light around her.
His intense gaze made it hard to breathe.
"What...?"
The furrow between Wen Bairan’s brows deepened uncontrollably.
Her heartbeat grew erratic.
He remained silent, watching her with that unreadable expression for what felt like an eternity. She almost couldn’t endure this silent torture.
She was about to break out in a cold sweat.
Seeing her brow furrow tighter, his eyes subtly shifted, and he finally straightened up, putting distance between them.
"Don’t you think you’re a little too tense?"
Light flooded back in, and Wen Bairan finally felt she could breathe again.
She exhaled.
Meeting his meaningful gaze, she was absolutely certain he had tried to make her nervous on purpose and asked that question on purpose!
Her expression cooled, calm, as though his earlier probing and her fear had been illusions.
"Do you have something to say?"
"If not, I’m leaving."
Without waiting for his response, she turned to leave.
Song Xu caught her from behind, his long arm hooked around her waist and pulling her into his embrace.
"Don’t be angry."
His voice lowered, his nose nuzzling her face. The warm, moist breath brushed against her earlobe, sending a shiver to her bones.
Wen Bairan struggled uncomfortably. "Let me go!"
He held on.
Teasing with his lips.
"You're always so distant to me at the office."
"I just want you to relax a little."
Oh, come on!
As if! Who could be colder than you!
Wen Bairan clenched her jaw and turned her head away, refusing to look at his expression now. "Thanks! I'm plenty relaxed."
"Really?"
He didn't believe it, but he didn’t push it.
He let out a low chuckle, "That's good."
Her face with subtle makeup smelled fragrant, a hint of orange blossom freshness nicely easing the stuffiness of the room.
He kissed from her ear to her chin, Song Xu cupped her cheek with one hand and nuzzled her neck.
The high-necked undershirt Wen Bairan wore hugged her skin, thin and unable to block his hot breath from heating her skin, making her shiver. She instantly softened.
He was always good at grinding her down in this smooth but ruthless way, wearing away her resistance.
Infuriating.
But she yielded anyway.
Damn it.
There was a sensitive spot behind her ear, unprotected by her collar. Sweeping her long hair aside to expose this soft weakness, Song Xu’s eyes darkened as he sucked at it.
Hearing a soft moan escape her lips, he drew back slowly.
"Any plans for the weekend?"
Wen Bairan’s glazed eyes instantly turned wary. "...What do you want?"
He smiled faintly, "I’m taking you out."
//
Yuehu Villa wasn’t far from downtown Shenjiang, about a two-hour drive via the highway.
Wen Bairan had never imagined he’d bring her here.
Didn’t he know Xu Lanjun and Zhou Lin were also here?
No, no, he must know.
Maybe he even suggested coming here himself.
Given Song Xu’s vindictive nature, the humiliation he suffered at the hospital last time wouldn’t just be forgotten.
He’d said it was the first time he’d ever been hit in his life.
He must have some plan to get back at Zhou Lin.
What could it be?
Just thinking about it gave Wen Bairan a headache again.
In the parking lot.
Song Xu cut the engine, and they got out of the car.
Not far away, the radiant Yuehu Villa loomed like a fiery monster.
Watching him pull a duffel bag he’d packed earlier from the trunk, a sense of dread suddenly rose in Wen Bairan’s heart.
"Wait!"
She seized his hand, and the two stopped in front of the car.
Song Xu glanced back.
First at the slender hands gripping his wrist, then at her worried expression.
"What is it?"
His tone was mild, his expression neutral, neither happy nor displeased.
The drum of retreat beat louder in Wen Bairan’s mind. "Maybe we shouldn’t go in after all......"
Song Xu looked at her, his eyes asking why.
Why else?
Zhou Lin was still injured; he definitely couldn’t handle another punch from Song Xu.
If the two met and clashed again......
Song Xu switched the bag to his other hand and took hers, comforting her, "Don’t worry, we’re just here to have fun."
She didn’t believe him. "Can you promise?"
"Promise what?"
"That you won’t throw a punch."
Just mentioning those words gave Wen Bairan goosebumps. She really didn’t understand why Xu Lanjun insisted on bringing the four of them together, as if stirring up trouble was her goal.
She was truly afraid.
Her furrowed brow was full of worry.
But she couldn’t say it outright.
Even unspoken, Song Xu surely knew she was more worried about Zhou Lin right now.
His eyes narrowed unconsciously, smoldering with danger.
"Honestly, I don’t like you thinking about another man like this."
As soon as he said it, Wen Bairan’s expression changed, her eyes filled with unease that screamed, "I knew you were here to pick a fight."
She was so tense it almost seemed like she was expecting them to fight.
Song Xu found it amusing and gave a wry smile in resignation. He wasn't a combative person.
Wen Bairan: ?
If *you're* not combative, then who is?
Who could possibly be more combative than you?
“Song Xu…” She softened her tone, trying to play the emotional card.
“Alright, if you’re really that worried, I promise you a peaceful weekend, provided no one starts trouble.” He knew what she was going to say and made a concession. “Will that work?”
Although Wen Bairan still felt somewhat uneasy, his words at least reassured her that he didn't have bad intentions.
The frown on her face finally eased a little.
“Okay, stop overthinking it.”
He squeezed her hand, putting her even more at ease. “If you don't trust me, just hold onto me tighter.”
He was so calm that she couldn’t sense any trace of aggression in him.
Wen Bairan instinctively did as he said, gripping his sleeve tightly and pressing herself against his arm.
“You said it—I’m really going to hold on tight.”
Her innocent gaze and actions were unmistakably comforting.
Song Xu’s expression softened. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead, chilled by the night breeze. “Let’s go.”
/
They had arrived late. After checking in at the front desk, they found out that Xu Lanjun and Zhou Lin had already arrived.
Wen Bairan silently prayed they wouldn’t run into them too soon, but as fate would have it, her fears came true.
As she and Song Xu waited for the elevator, they happened to bump into Xu Lanjun, who was on her way to dinner.
The elevator doors opened, and the golden interior momentarily dazzled Wen Bairan’s eyes.
Xu Lanjun spotted her first. “Well, look who’s finally here!”
She rushed out of the elevator and gave her an enthusiastic hug.
For some reason, she had been hugged by two women today, and both of them were so unconventional that it made her head spin.
“Lan-jie…”
The leather of Xu Lanjun’s jacket felt cold, almost icy, against Wen Bairan’s already chilled face. She shivered involuntarily and opened her eyes to see Zhou Lin inside the elevator cab.
The lighting in the cab was dim, casting the overall gold tone in a somewhat tacky light, yet he stood out even more exquisitely.
He had lost weight, his black hair falling over his brows, adding to his gloomy aura. The young master, delicate and pampered, had endured months of hardship at the construction site. Not long after returning, he had already regained his fair and tender complexion. Only his dark eyes seemed lifeless.
When he lifted his gaze to meet hers, Zhou Lin’s eyes silently conveyed hurt and betrayal.
He had been hospitalized for a week and discharged for eight days.
Wen Bairan hadn’t visited him even once.
It was as if she had truly decided to never acknowledge him again.
With a darkened expression, he stepped out, his unspoken grievances already stirring a sour ache in her heart.
Wen Bairan’s throat felt choked against Xu Lanjun’s shoulder, leaving her speechless.
The elevator doors closed behind him.
Zhou Lin’s gaze shifted away, his expression growing even gloomier.
Wen Bairan and Song Xu’s clasped hands were broken apart by Xu Lanjun’s sudden movement. He now stood quietly to the side, his calm face revealing nothing.
But what more was there to see?
He was standing right beside Wen Bairan.
Zhou Lin turned his face away and leaned silently against the wall opposite them.
Wen Bairan was taken aback.
Xu Lanjun, still holding her, gently touched her face. “Is it cold outside? Look at you, your face is freezing. Have you eaten? Join us for a bite. We just got here not long ago too.”
She slung an arm around Wen Bairan’s shoulder, treating her like a little sister, and casually raised her hand to greet Song Xu as she turned. “President Song.”
Song Xu gave a slight nod.
After greeting him, she said to Wen Bairan, “Hurry up and drop your luggage in your room. The hotel’s buffet closes at ten. If we’re late, we’ll miss out on the good stuff.”
Wen Bairan snapped out of her daze and was about to suggest skipping dinner for today. She turned to seek Song Xu’s opinion, and his expression clearly indicated he was fine with whatever she decided.
This exchange of glances was brief, but by the time she turned back, Xu Lanjun had already glided over to Song Xu’s side, snatched the luggage bag from his hand, and tossed it at Zhou Lin.
“A Lin, accompany Xiao Wen upstairs. President Song and I have something to discuss.”
Zhou Lin seemed distracted—and truthfully, he was.
The luggage bag wasn’t heavy, but being hit in the chest with it made him bend over slightly. He instinctively caught the bag before it could slide off.
“A Lin!”
Wen Bairan’s heart clenched. She instinctively stepped forward to check on him but froze just as she was about to reach out to support him.
“Are you… okay?” She didn’t want to give him the wrong idea, but she also couldn’t ignore his pain. Her question came out awkwardly, almost like a half-hearted attempt to cover up her unease.
Zhou Lin lifted his eyes, the shattered light in his dark pupils making her slowly retract her hovering hand.
Her gaze flickered uncertainly.
They stood so close that no one else could see the expressions on their faces.
Xu Lanjun said from behind, “Don’t worry, he’s not that fragile.”
Wen Bairan frowned and turned back, disagreeing. “He’s injured.”
“It’s just an injury. It won’t kill him.”
Xu Lanjun spoke lightly, shrugging as she casually linked arms with Song Xu beside her. “Hurry up and drop your luggage off, then come down. We’ll head to the restaurant first.”
She did this so naturally, as if she had done it many times before.
Song Xu didn’t refuse.
Wen Bairan shot him a look.
His eyes went cold the moment she called out Zhou Lin's name.
His indifferent face resembled an ice-carved arhat statue.
She lowered her gaze, with no desire to explain, nor any need to.
After all, he had seen everything.
The elevator arrived.
A dozen or so tourists poured out at once, immediately breaking up the group of four outside the door.
Through the jostling crowd, Zhou Lin stepped into the elevator.
The gradually closing doors blocked Wen Bairan's view.
She gazed after him, worried.
Outside, Xu Lanjun, hooking her arm through Song Xu's, took a few steps back. The slight movement reawakened the phantom sensation on his wrist.
Wen Bairan had looked at him the same way when she was pulling him along with her.
Once the crowd had cleared, the numbers on the panel indicated the elevator was ascending.
The closed elevator doors reflected the figures of the two left behind, faintly revealing the frost that had settled on Song Xu's face.
He averted his face, his voice as cold as ice.
"Are you happy now, Miss Xu?"