Chapter Twenty

During dinner, that French woman noticed He Zheyu’s gaze never once strayed from Mo Qinghan, who was busily moving about the restaurant. She let out a soft laugh, prompting He Zheyu to look at Emma, who sat across from him, with a hint of puzzlement. “What is it? Did you notice something amusing?”

“They all say that President He isn’t interested in women, but I think it’s simply that he hasn’t yet met the one he truly likes.” With these words, Emma glanced over at Mo Qinghan.

He Zheyu caught the underlying meaning in Emma’s words. A subtle smile played at the corners of his lips. He raised his glass, clinked it gently against Emma’s, then took a slow sip before setting it down. He did not deny what Emma had suggested. His eyes still lingered solely on Mo Qinghan as he said, “I hope you’ll also soon meet someone you truly like, and that he just so happens to like you too.”

The two of them shared a knowing smile. Emma watched as Mo Qinghan, not far away, effortlessly switched between English and French while introducing various cuisines to the guests. She was captivated by Mo Qinghan’s earnestness and couldn’t help but remark with a smile, “She truly is different from other girls. With a face as alluring as hers, she could have chosen an easier life, yet she insists on living as though she’s a valiant knight.”

Mo Qinghan kept sensing someone’s gaze upon her. When she turned around to look, He Zheyu had already shifted his attention to the window. Instead, it was the French woman at his table who was watching her. Mo Qinghan offered her a small smile before returning to her duties.

By the time Mo Qinghan finished work, it was already ten in the evening. The weather was gradually growing warmer, no longer as chilly as before. She didn’t bother changing out of her work uniform, simply draped her coat over her shoulders and stepped out of the restaurant. After parting ways with her colleagues and walking only a short distance, she spotted a car she knew all too well parked by the roadside. She nudged a pebble at her feet and walked over slowly, knocking on the car window. There was no response. After several knocks went unanswered, she reached out and tried the door. The moment it opened, He Zheyu pulled her inside and closed the door behind her.

Now straddling He Zheyu’s lap, Mo Qinghan sat sideways. Outside, the dim streetlights cast fragmented patterns on He Zheyu’s profile through the glass. As she gazed at his almost devilishly handsome face, memories of him dining with that French woman flickered in her mind, leaving her feeling inexplicably stifled. Her words came out tinged with jealousy.

“Why aren’t you spending the night with that foreign woman? What are you doing here, waiting for me?”

He Zheyu found her jealousy utterly endearing. He leaned in, his warm breath first brushing against her face, then her neck. His lips and teeth grazed her earlobe, sending tingling shivers down her spine. Suddenly, He Zheyu let out a soft laugh, whispering in her ear, “You’re jealous.”

Mo Qinghan’s cheeks flushed scarlet under his teasing, and her voice grew soft and delicate. “Who’s jealous?” she retorted, though seeing the deepening look in He Zheyu’s eyes made her instinctively nervous. She bit her pink lips, sensing that something was about to happen.

Noticing this, He Zheyu’s already unsteady breath became even more ragged. He lowered his head and captured her lips in a sudden, fervent kiss. It wasn’t until she felt the wet warmth on her lips that Mo Qinghan realized what was happening.

She slid her hands from his waist up around his neck, responding to his kiss. In that instant, the car was filled with a heady, irresistible tension.