Translator:
Atlas Studios
Editor:
Atlas Studios
Lin Nuan couldn’t help but tighten her grip on her chopsticks.
When Lin Nuan mentioned Fu Huai’an to Bai Xiaonian, she still felt a man like him was more compatible with a legendary woman like Chu Xun. Who knew the thought could actually become a reality.
Fu Huai’an’s elder also liked Chu Xun. If the Chu Family had long acknowledged him as their future son-in-law, then why did he still get engaged to Gu Hanyan?
Lin Nuan didn’t understand.
She was even more unsure why he would go collect the certificate with her so easily the second day at the station. If it wasn’t for Wen Moshen’s sudden return, she would have probably been the Fu wife. And yet she knew nothing about her husband.
Lin Nuan felt bitterness in her heart as well as fear.
She had long lost the courage to fight someone for a man. She sought a life full of peace and stability.
A man like Fu Huai’an couldn’t offer that to her.
There was Su Manman followed by Chu Xun, women so outstanding Lin Nuan could only look up at them.
She didn’t want to know that even if she mustered all her courage to be with Fu Huai’an, there might still be girls appearing like Su Manman or Chu Xun.
Fu Huai’an didn’t lack women by his side.
Lin Nuan didn’t accept his impromptu games.
She didn’t accept scandals or flirting either.
Lin Nuan truly wasn’t suitable to be the wife of a man like Fu Huai’an. She was unable to tolerate her husband going behind her back and being reckless the way Liang Mulan did with such grace and composure, seeing only what she needed to see by keeping one eye closed.
Hence Lin Nuan would say she’d rather sleep with him out of desire than catch feelings for a man like that.
Catching feelings for him was the same as taking off her armor in front of him. She liked him, but she didn’t trust him—she feared that the heart she spent four years painstakingly repairing would be shattered into pieces the moment she brought it before Fu Huai’an with utmost care.
Her heart was tiny—it couldn’t withstand too much.
I’m hanging up,
Fu Huai’an said as he hung up the phone.
He whipped out a cigarette from the cigarette box and clenched it between his fingertips. He asked Lin Nuan,
Would you accept my flowers?
Lin Nuan:
…
She didn’t anticipate him playing that game out of the blue and was unable to give a suitable answer.
She felt her heart stuffed with a cotton ball soaked in vinegar. She kept her mouth shut in silence.
You’d accept flowers from other people, so why would you take so long to consider when it comes to answering my simple question?
Fu Huai’an lit the cigarette between his fingertips. He bit on the cigarette butt with his thin lips, his deep gaze fixed on Lin Nuan’s clear face.
Her heart beat faster—it must have been his words, his gaze, or the way he glanced down and lit his cigarette.
Lin Nuan answered honestly,
If you ask me, I’d probably say I wouldn’t accept it. But if you really present the flowers before me, I would probably still accept it—if I don’t, then what a waste for the flowers to go into the bin.
Placing the lighter he was fiddling with on the box of cigarettes, he said,
So you accepted the flowers Liu Mingchen gave you today?
Lin Nuan:
…
Fu Huai’an was casting the fishing line and waiting for her to bite.
Lin Nuan couldn’t take advantage of him in conversation.
Her grip on her chopsticks tightened. She then gently and slowly placed them on her bowl and reached out for her glass of water to take a sip. It was then that she realized she had already finished the whole glass.
Fu Huai’an unhurriedly opened the bottle of water on the table and filled up her cup.
