Scorching Warm Water – Chapter 26
She looked around the bedroom and discovered it had its own private shower, a vintage gramophone, and a cabinet full of vinyl records.
Hearing a knock at the door, Wen Yan walked over and opened it—it was the robot, Amy, standing there.
“Sis, the owner sent me to check on you. He asked if you need help falling asleep—I’ve got tons of sleep-inducing tricks stored in my system.” Amy’s square head tilted up, blinking its big round anime-style eyes at her.
Wen Yan turned and glanced toward the main cabin. Fu Lanzhuo didn’t look back—he was focused on working on his laptop. She pressed her lips together, let the robot in, and carried it onto the bed.
“I want to listen to a tomb-raiding novel,” Wen Yan said.
“Oh, tomb-raiding novels, hold on.” Amy wiggled its body and began reciting several titles.
Wen Yan had read all of them, so she asked, “Any others?”
Back in middle school, she’d been obsessed with tomb-raiding novels and had read almost every Chinese one out there.
Amy rattled off another list.
Wen Yan had read those too. “Anything else?”
“Oh, you’ve read all of them! You’re even more impressive than me, sis!” Amy flattered sweetly, then suddenly froze—it couldn’t find any new ones.
“Hold on a sec, I’m thinking hard.”
Its eyes swirled like mosquito coils for a few rounds before it finally listed a few more tomb-raiding novels—these were foreign ones, including one called The Mystery of the Pharaoh’s Tomb. Wen Yan chose that one, then curled up with a pillow.
“Any preferences for the sleep-inducing voice, sis? I can switch to any voice,” Amy asked.
Wen Yan hugged the pillow a little tighter. “Can you imitate your owner’s voice?”
“Sure can!”
Then she thought—what if a flight attendant walked in, or Fu Lanzhuo passed by and overheard? That would be awkward. “Never mind. Just use your own voice. Your normal voice is really cute.”
“Sis, you’re making me float with happiness! Okay! I’m going to start putting you to sleep now!” Amy’s tone was brimming with joy.
Wen Yan smiled and said “mm.”
She hadn’t felt sleepy at all, but under Amy’s soothing narration, she gradually drifted off. When she woke again, a harsh, roaring noise filled her ears—the plane was descending. She sat up and looked out the window.
The weather in Ming City looked beautiful—a brilliant golden sun hung at the edge of the sky, dyeing the clouds into a magnificent horizon, with skyscrapers visible everywhere below.
The altitude kept dropping, and the city’s layout became clearly visible. In the distance, she could see a private runway and impeccably manicured lawns.
Wen Yan climbed out of bed, tidied the sheets, and folded the blanket. The residual habits from military training hadn’t faded—she folded it neatly into a perfect little block, like tofu.
Before leaving the bedroom, she went into the bathroom to fix her hair. She’d slept on it and a few strands had gone astray, so she smoothed them out with a comb.
In the mirror, her face was indeed strikingly beautiful.
But she’d grown up seeing it every day. Then she suddenly recalled the two flight attendants’ conversation, and her lashes trembled slightly.
Still, those were just other people’s opinions. She wouldn’t dwell on them.
She set down the comb and left.
In the main cabin, Fu Lanzhuo had changed positions. He was now lounging on the sofa by the left-side window, his long legs crossed, a tablet resting on his knee. He looked up when he noticed her approach.
“You’re awake.” He watched her walk up to him.
Wen Yan nodded. “We’re arriving in Ming City, right, Brother?”
“Mm.”
Fu Lanzhuo set the tablet aside and rose from the sofa. “The landing might be a bit bumpy. Let’s go to the seats and fasten our seatbelts.”
“Mm.” She followed him toward the seats across the way.
Two flight attendants came over—one to put away Fu Lanzhuo’s tablet, the other to remind them to buckle up. But when she saw Fu Lanzhuo bending down to fasten Wen Yan’s seatbelt himself—his tall, lean frame casting a cool, commanding silhouette, his expression utterly serious, no less focused than when he was working—she paused. He finished and checked it once over.
Both flight attendants stopped in their tracks, didn’t come closer, and quietly left.
The continuous roar of wind and engines rang in their ears for about ten minutes before the landing gear finally touched down. Wen Yan looked out the window. They had arrived in Ming City.
—
Author’s Note: Boss Fu is a wife-staring addict.
Chapter 16 – Benediction: Through the thin cloth…
—
After stepping off the plane, a black Escalade was waiting for them at the gate. The driver who had seen them off at the airport in Yan City hadn’t come along—this one was a new face.
Wen Yan followed Fu Lanzhuo into the car.
This was an American full-size SUV with three rows of seats, feeling even more spacious than the previous Cullinan. There was generous legroom between each row—even the third row looked wide and not cramped at all.
Wen Yan looked around and asked Fu Lanzhuo, “Are we picking anyone else up?”
“No.”
“Just me going with you to the banquet?”
“Of course.”
Wen Yan’s backpack was in Fu Lanzhuo’s hands. He reached back and placed it on the rear seat, then turned his gaze back to her. Wen Yan tilted her head, and their eyes met—which briefly threw her into a flutter of unease. The car had a high level of privacy; the second row was separated from the driver and front passenger by a partition, completely blocking the front seat from view.
Fu Lanzhuo reached his hand over. Wen Yan thought he was going to touch her face, but his cool fingers only brushed past her earlobe—he pulled out a strand of hair that had gotten tucked into her collar, the temperature of his knuckles fleeting.
Wen Yan gripped the hem of her skirt and looked at him. “Am I going to the banquet like this, Brother?”
She scanned Fu Lanzhuo—he was wearing a sharply tailored black suit, while she looked very much like a student, her outfit… honestly, a bit childish.
And the banquet he was attending was surely quite formal.
“We’ll stop by Qiantan Ziyuan first. I’ll take you to pick out a dress,” Fu Lanzhuo said in a very gentle voice.
“A dress for the banquet?” Wen Yan’s eyes lit up.
Fu Lanzhuo liked the brightness in her eyes. “Mm.”
“I had a few sets prepared for you in advance.”
“…”
A few sets.
Actually, it was over a dozen.
Qiantan Ziyuan was a top-tier villa district on the eastern outskirts of Ming City, built along the river. The architecture here was all in a pure European manor style. Fu Lanzhuo’s private villa was Building No. 7. The black Escalade drove straight through the gate and stopped in the courtyard in front of the building. When Wen Yan got out, she hadn’t even finished taking in the villa’s grandeur before following Fu Lanzhuo inside—and was struck speechless by the magnificent walk-in closet laid out before her.
The dresses were all gorgeous, covering every style imaginable.
“This closet wasn’t here before—I had it temporarily remodeled, so it’s a bit rough. These dresses are all ready-made too. Next time, I’ll have someone tailor them for you.”
“It doesn’t feel rough at all… It’s beautiful, and the dresses are lovely too.” Wen Yan turned to answer him, her fingertips lightly gliding across the transparent glass of the closet.
Fu Lanzhuo stepped closer, standing behind her like a solid shield—his frame nearly twice her width. The stark contrast in their sizes was reflected faintly on the semi-reflective glass cabinet before them, the silhouettes appearing and disappearing like shadows.
Wen Yan pulled herself back slightly, her lashes fluttering.
Fu Lanzhuo’s voice was close to her ear: “Take your time choosing. Try them all on. I’ll have the designer come in to assist you—if the sizes need adjusting, she can help as much as possible.”
Half of Wen Yan’s ears turned red. “When does the banquet start?”
“Seven in the evening. Plenty of time,” Fu Lanzhuo replied.
She’d checked the time when she got out of the car—it was nearly four in the afternoon, so she had about three hours.
“Mm… okay,” she agreed.
Fu Lanzhuo raised his hand, lightly twirled a strand of her long, silky hair at the small of her back, then turned and left.
Not long after his figure disappeared from the dressing room, a young woman with an elegant, cultured appearance entered with two older aunties.
She introduced herself to Wen Yan—her surname was Ling, given name Kerui. She was a designer hired by Fu Lanzhuo.
Wen Yan told her it was quite a coincidence—her name had the same character, “rui,” as one of her roommates.
“What a lovely coincidence, Miss Wen. Take a look at these dresses—which one catches your eye? You can try them all on.”
“Did you design all of these?” Wen Yan asked.
“Not exactly. I designed three of them. The others were purchased by Mr. Fu from various high-end brands.”
And he’d bought more than a dozen, asking her to look at Wen Yan’s photos and help select them—a real-life version of Miracle Nikki.
Though Wen Yan was far more striking than the game character Su Nuan Nuan.
Her face—you couldn’t even replicate that with AI.
“Then I’ll try your designs first, sis,” Wen Yan said.
Ling Kerui’s lips curved up. “Great! Which one of these three would you like to try first?”
The three dresses she’d designed had been finished long ago—two of them were even award-winning pieces. Fu Lanzhuo had called her only three days ago; there was no way she could have created new ones in that time, so she had to use what she had. Still, she’d deliberately arranged three different styles for Wen Yan.
One was a playful, lively style suited to her age. Another was a golden, diamond-studded gown more fitting for her bright, striking features. And the last was a darker, gothic-lolita style—a black, waist-cinching, flowing gauze dress. Ling Kerui’s personal favorite was also the last one, especially because she was dying to see it on Wen Yan—she suspected the contrast would be stunning.
Wen Yan’s gaze swept over them, then she pointed to the black one. “This one.”
“Excellent taste, Miss Wen!” Ling Kerui’s brows lifted with excitement. As a designer, there was nothing more fulfilling than having a “great model” to showcase her work. Of course, the “model” she’d encountered today was rather precious—she was the young girlfriend of the Yaoheng Group’s CEO.
The wide glass doors of the closet were opened together by the two maids, and the exquisite black dress was brought out. Ling Kerui accompanied Wen Yan into the fitting room to change.
Wen Yan tried and tried again—like working through practice problems, she didn’t waste a single set. She tried them all on with full dedication. One reason was that she didn’t want Fu Lanzhuo’s preparation of so many dresses to go to waste. The other was that she wanted to choose the most beautiful and most suitable one, to accompany him to the banquet in proper style.
But after going through them all, all she got from Ling Kerui and the two aunties were endless compliments. Their praises might have been a bit over-the-top, but the genuine admiration in their eyes was unmistakable.
Some of the gowns weren’t easy to put on, and by the time she was done, an hour and a half had passed.
In the end, the one Wen Yan was most satisfied with was still the black long dress designed by Ling Kerui.
It wasn’t the one that suited her best—but she loved it.
Between what she loved and what suited her best, she ultimately followed her heart.
Because they were all beautiful—there was no ranking.
“I think this one is the most stunning too—after all, it’s my pride and joy.” Ling Kerui almost wondered if Wen Yan was just being polite, since there were so many big-name designer gowns. But Wen Yan had no reason to care about the opinion of a small-time designer like her—she must genuinely like it.
“So, this one it is?” Ling Kerui rubbed her hands together.
“Mm.” Wen Yan smiled.