Chapter 4: A Swift and Decisive Battle
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Upon arriving at Water Breeze Court, Song Yanzi entered the password to get inside. Familiar with the routine, she changed her shoes and headed into the living room. Casually setting her bag down, she collapsed onto the sofa, leaning back. The workload today had been overwhelming, compounded by lack of sleep, leaving her feeling utterly drained, like a withered eggplant. If it weren’t for yielding to Shen Yichi’s overbearing authority, or if the sky were to fall, there was no way she would have stepped out.
“You’re certainly enjoying yourself,” came a lazy, cold voice tinged with slight dissatisfaction.
Song Yanzi lifted her eyelids to see a man standing straight ahead on the second floor. His hands rested casually on the railing, dressed in light-colored loungewear. His relaxed demeanor did not diminish his elegant and handsome appearance.
Their eyes met, and Song Yanzi responded indifferently, “President Shen, even beasts of burden need rest.”
The man said nothing in reply but commanded, “You—come upstairs.”
Song Yanzi, oddly spirited, raised her hand to point at him and curled a finger slightly, teasing, “You—come down!”
The man’s imperious manner, like that of a sovereign, stirred a rebellious streak within her.
The air held a silent standoff for several seconds as the two faced each other without a word.
Finally, the man relented and turned to descend the stairs.
Shen Yichi strolled leisurely to stand beside the sofa, his dark eyes fixed on Song Yanzi.
She sank crookedly into the sofa, her entire figure soft and unresisting.
Wearing a nude shirt and a black pencil skirt, her exquisite curves were perfectly accentuated.
Though her posture was casual and relaxed, it retained an undeniable grace.
Song Yanzi got straight to the point: “President Song, let’s settle this quickly.”
With that, she adjusted her position, adopting the look of one about to endure punishment, facing death with calm resolve.
Seeing the woman sprawled before him, Shen Yichi’s eyes darkened with a flicker of amusement.
He gently kicked her calf and teased, “With that look of yours, ready to face death, I feel like a beast.”
Song Yanzi raised a brow, meeting his domineering gaze: “Aren’t you one?”
The man before her was indeed a cultured scoundrel, a gentleman by appearance but a beast beneath.
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Seeing her unwillingness, Shen Yichi did not argue.
“If you don’t want to, you can leave. I don’t like forcing anyone.”
With that, he turned and took a seat on the nearby sofa.
Song Yanzi shifted, turning to look him in the eye.
“President Shen, I’ve come all this way—could you at least spare some food? I’m starving.”
After a simple lunch earlier, she hadn’t eaten anything since and was now painfully hungry.
Shen Yichi said nothing, just shot her a sidelong glance.
After a few seconds, he rose and went to the kitchen.
Song Yanzi closed her eyes to rest.
About ten minutes later, the noodles were ready.
At the dining table, the two sat facing each other, with two bowls of noodles placed before them.
Without hesitation, Song Yanzi picked up her chopsticks and stirred the noodles.
Seeing the man sit down and leisurely mix his own bowl, she asked, “You haven’t eaten either?”
“Not only have you been tirelessly busy, President Song,” Shen Yichi’s calm, cold voice responded.
Song Yanzi said nothing and lowered her head to eat.
Shen Yichi’s cooking skills were undeniable; the taste was exquisite.
Usually, sons of wealthy families never lift a finger, living in luxury.
But Shen Yichi was different—he lacked the spoiled traits typical of privileged heirs and was instead a good, down-to-earth man.
His future wife would undoubtedly be very fortunate.
After dinner, both satisfied, the inevitable intimacy followed.
Kisses and embraces flowed naturally; their tacit understanding made them perfectly in sync.
In the steaming bathroom, clothes soaked and clinging to their skin, passion blurred their senses.
In the heat of the moment, Song Yanzi reminded him, “Shen Yichi, get the condoms.”
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The man, buried in kisses at her neck, rose.
His hair was dripping wet, and his deep, dark eyes brimmed with desire.
He cupped her flushed face and rasped, “Are you really that afraid?”
Song Yanzi’s tone was cold: “You know our situation. Don’t make things complicated.”
For some reason, Shen Yichi was persistent tonight, relentless and tireless.
Afterward, Song Yanzi was so exhausted she fell asleep immediately.
The next morning, she woke to find the man already up.
Her clothes from the night before no longer fit, so she went to Shen Yichi’s walk-in closet and picked out a shirt to wear.
After freshening up, she headed straight to the kitchen.
As expected, the man was making breakfast.
Just as she was about to speak, the doorbell rang.
Shen Yichi glanced up and said, “Go answer the door. The assistant is bringing clothes.”
Song Yanzi complied.
At the door, the intercom showed the face of an unfamiliar woman.
The woman was exquisitely made-up and strikingly beautiful.
Without hesitation, Song Yanzi turned and left.
Shen Yichi, who had finished preparing breakfast, noticed her returning empty-handed and asked, “Not Dong Chuan?”
Song Yanzi replied, “A woman, a beautiful one I don’t know.”
Better not to open the door rashly—to avoid unnecessary trouble, it was best to be cautious.
Shen Yichi set down the items and passed by her, saying, “Go eat breakfast.”
The door opened, and the woman smiled brightly, “Surprised? Unexpected?”
Shen Yichi’s expression remained composed: “How do you know this place?”
The man’s cold demeanor gradually erased the smile from her face.
“Not inviting me in for a visit?” she asked.