Chapter 39

Slightly Sweet You（09）

Chapter 39

Mu He remembered that sweet and warm little family on the plane. Before getting off, she had taken a deliberate glance. The little girl obediently lay on her mother’s shoulder, wearing a pink princess dress. Her small face was fair and adorable like a glutinous rice ball. Probably sleepy, she let out a long yawn. Noticing Mu He’s gaze, her big black eyes blinked and looked over, her small mouth shyly smiling.

At that moment, Mu He thought, if only she could have a daughter too, she would give all her love to her, shielding her from all the wind and rain before she could walk alone in the world…

Now, Xi Heng had the same thought.

Both she and a daughter were in his future plans.

This realization made Mu He’s heart flutter. Her feelings of loss and unease were sifted away, leaving only joy and peace. She buried her face in his chest, brushing against him. Her eyes still held a layer of hazy moisture, like the reflection of the bright moon on water.

The corners of her eyebrows lifted in a smile, but her lips mumbled: “Dream on.”

They hadn’t even caught each other yet, and she was already thinking about having children?

Her mood had clearly improved. Xi Heng secretly exhaled in relief and whispered in her ear with a low laugh, speaking boldly: “Indeed, just thinking about having a child isn’t enough.”

It was the first time he said something so naughty. Mu He’s face completely flushed. Not knowing how to respond to this mischievous side of him, she blurted out in her Shancheng dialect: “Xi Heng, you, you scoundrel, beast, rake!”

Though Xi Heng didn’t understand the words, he could guess from her embarrassed reaction. He tucked the stray strands of hair behind her ear, pinched her unusually warm earlobe, and smiled meaningfully: “You don’t like it?”

Mu He bit her lip lightly and glared at him.

Her gentle, watery gaze answered him clearly: Of course she liked it.

Whether it was the proud, cold version of him, the deep, gentlemanly version, or the mischievous version right now, she liked them all.

This man was really naughty. He had already bought a ticket to Nan City but hid it from her. He had accepted the farewell kiss, yet in the blink of an eye, he appeared before her again, teasing her on the plane.

All of it was a trap.

Xi Heng turned on the light, half-hugging her as they sat on the sofa, twisted open the thermos, and fed her a few sips of water.

After drinking, Mu He nestled back in his arms, lightly poking his arm: “Why did you come to Nan City?”

She had prepared her standard answers: Of course for you, because I don’t want to be apart from you, wherever you are, I am there.

Any of these would have scored full marks.

Xi Heng pondered seriously for a few seconds: “To be able to have a daughter with you sooner.”

Not one of the standard answers, but the sweetest love line, striking directly at the softest part of Mu He’s heart. She was utterly undone.

This man was too good at this; her skills were on a completely different level.

Time quietly passed. Midnight arrived. The whistling wind patrolled the city, slowly cooling it from the daytime hustle. After talking a while longer, Xi Heng prepared to leave.

After all, it was an outside hotel. Too many unpredictable factors. Mu He couldn’t keep him overnight, but as she sent him to the door and the door opened a narrow crack, she regretted it: “Maybe… don’t go?”

Her voice was so low it was almost inaudible: “The bed is big enough for two anyway.”

If he went out now, they might be caught by paparazzi. Better to wait until morning.

Mu He lightly nudged the door to push him back: “It’s decided then.”

Xi Heng seemed unsurprised, smiled slightly, and rubbed the back of his neck: “I’ll go take a shower first.”

She met his burning gaze, blushing, and replied softly: “Mm.”

This conversation sounded like an invitation to do something naughty together.

He entered the bathroom. Mu He walked aimlessly in the small living room, feeling frustrated that the room booking had been in vain and worried she had forgotten something important. Then she remembered: the curtains! Many in the industry had ruined things, even destroyed reputations, just because the curtains weren’t properly drawn.

She hurriedly drew them tightly, letting no light escape.

After checking the locked door again, Mu He turned off the main light, leaving only a wall lamp. She tiptoed into the bedroom. The gentle patter of water came from the bathroom. She stopped, took a deep breath. What was there to fear?

She sat on the bed, her thoughts already in the bathroom, imagining, imagining…

Stop!

Mu Yangyang, no more imagining. If things got out of hand, a nosebleed would be terrible.

As her mind raced, the bathroom door opened. Xi Heng emerged, wearing the hotel bathrobe, seemingly loose and ill-fitting, tied sloppily around his waist, revealing a large chest. The tips of his short hair were still damp, his expression lazy, looking like a man after indulgence and a shower.

The sheets behind him were already crumpled by Mu He. Her gaze traveled down from his collarbone, and she swallowed involuntarily: “I-I’m going to shower too.”

She quickly found her pajamas and rushed into the bathroom.

After removing her makeup, Mu He stood under the shower, warm water flowing over every inch of her skin, thinking he had just been standing there… Would he also be thinking of her out there?

A soft pink flush rose over her body, indistinguishable whether from heat or embarrassment.

After her shower, she dried her hair, applied night cream, smelled it—fragrant—and looked in the mirror several times before leaving.

Xi Heng was already on the bed. He had just sent Zhang Chang a message and placed his phone face down on the nightstand, looking at her as she lifted the corner of the blanket to get in: “Sleep here.”

The room had no heating. Even with the air conditioner on hot mode, the effect was minimal.

Mu He lay in the spot he had occupied, wrapped in his warmth and scent, and closed her eyes contentedly.

Xi Heng casually turned off the light.

Once he lay down, Mu He turned to her side, consciously finding a comfortable position in his arms: “Good night.”

He replied with a good night kiss that landed in her hair.

Mu He slept soundly. The next morning, the first thing she did was reach for the space beside her—empty, no warmth. Her sleepiness vanished instantly: “Xi Heng?”

No response.

Mu He grabbed her phone and swiped open the screen, seeing the reminder he sent half an hour ago to eat breakfast.

Her lips pouted. She had only forgotten once, yet he remembered.

She let her long hair fall, lay on the bed, transforming into “Little Mu Three-Year-Old,” and lazily replied: “Got it, Uncle Xi.”

Message sent. At the same time, her lower abdomen rumbled in response.

Going out now would be troublesome. Mu He was too lazy, so she ordered room service. After finishing her wash, the breakfast for two arrived. She knocked on the next door to call Tan Mian to eat together.

The curtains opened, warm spring sunlight pouring in, illuminating the room.

Mu He sat cross-legged on the carpet, eating a vegetarian sandwich. Tan Mian, unconcerned about gaining weight, stuffed a gigantic pork cutlet burger into her mouth, savoring every bite: “Only love and good food shouldn’t be missed!”

Mu He shot her a look and sipped her bland skim milk.

“Yangyang, look,” Tan Mian pointed outside the floor-to-ceiling window, “that’s the landmark Sun-Moon Tower of Nan City. Within a thousand meters around it are all properties under the Ding Group.”

“I also heard that the head of the Ding family, the richest in Nan City, is still unmarried and has no children,” Tan Mian couldn’t help worrying for him. “Sigh, with so much wealth, not being able to pass it to heirs… it’s heartbreaking.”

“What exactly are these rich people thinking? Over forty isn’t old. Plenty of fifty-year-olds still have sons. Could it be… he can’t?”

The world of wealthy families was deep. Tan Mian sighed at her own imagination, feeling life was truly unfair.

Gossip was a pleasure for the soul, but she hadn’t forgotten the main agenda: “Yangyang, today’s schedule: a magazine interview at 10 a.m., variety show rehearsal at Nan City TV at 3 p.m., and a dinner event in the evening.”

Everything was fully scheduled and clear.

Reality now was like this: before, even waiting ten or fifteen days wouldn’t get a notice. Now, with rising popularity, invitations came like falling snow. No more worrying about people’s moods, no more disgusting unspoken rules, even had the right to choose preferred roles. Treatment was worlds apart, yet Mu He didn’t indulge or linger in vanity. She was clear-headed about every step, continuing humbly and steadily.

After breakfast and a short rest, the busy day officially began.

He couldn’t help but be surprised. The person was already on his territory, yet he hadn’t received the slightest hint beforehand.

After taking a seat, the servants served top-grade pre-rain Longjing tea. The aroma mingled lightly with the rising steam.

Ding Wu, in his youth, had been notorious for his romantic exploits, his reputation spreading all over Nan City. Only after taking over the Ding family did he show some restraint. In recent years, with cultivation of character, he had gradually developed a scholarly elegance. He sipped the tea lightly, appearing relaxed and unhurried, yet the expression on his face and the thoughts in his mind were completely different.

He had no prior connection with the young man in front of him, yet he had heard about his way of handling affairs. A few years ago, he had personally witnessed it: a fixed marriage engagement was canceled, yet the supposed heir’s position only became more secure.

Such strategic mind, methods, and decisiveness—even Ding Wu had to be wary.

Ding Wu noticed the ring on his ring finger. His gaze flickered slightly as he smiled: “I wonder, Fourth Young Master, what brings you all the way here?”

Xi Heng’s long fingers traced the rim of the cup. His beautiful peach-blossom eyes were calm and deep, lips curled in a hint of a smile: “There is indeed one matter. I need Mr. Ding’s assistance.”

Ding Wu didn’t dare take it lightly and spoke slowly: “Please, go on.”

Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, Ding Yimo hid behind the rose bushes. Watching the refined young man sitting on the sofa chatting easily with her uncle, she could no longer control her emotions. She had fallen for him at first sight; he was the intended match for the engagement. When she learned the Ho family had agreed to the marriage, she hadn’t slept all night out of happiness—only to suddenly find out it had been changed.

Her betrothed was the Ho family’s notorious sickly sixth son, Ho Siyue.

During this time, Ho Siyue had been constantly flattering her, speaking sweet words effortlessly. Ding Yimo was often delighted, but in the quiet of the night, she always felt uneasy. Now that he was so close, she wanted to rush in and ask him: What exactly is wrong with me, Ding Yimo?

Alas, her feet were nailed to the ground by the idea of “the situation is already set; acting rashly would bring shame.”

For the sake of the Ding-Ho family interests, no matter how unwilling, Ding Yimo could only accept reality.

She comforted herself: she was just superficial, attracted to his outstanding appearance. Besides, with his cold nature, would he even know how to coax a woman?

In this regard, Ho Siyue was better. Moreover, it was still uncertain who the Ho family fortune would eventually fall to.

“No one comes to the Hall of the Three Treasures without reason.” Xi Heng visiting her second uncle—could it be that he was plotting some secret matter?

Was he trying to win over her second uncle?

Ding Yimo shifted to a closer position but saw Xi Heng rise, seemingly preparing to leave.

Smart people always speak half and keep half hidden; being too explicit would ruin the intrigue.

Xi Heng had been seated less than ten minutes when he prepared to take his leave. Ding Wu escorted him to the door. Only after he got into the car and drove off did Ding Wu return to the room, hands behind his back, deep in thought.

The afternoon sun was bright, the sky clear. The black car drove steadily through lightly greened trees.

Sunlight and shadows glided across the sharp contours of the man’s face, alternating bright and dark, like an old movie scene.

“Young Master Heng,” Zhang Chang in the passenger seat handed him a file folder. “This is the information you requested.”

Xi Heng took out the documents. Madam Qin’s true life unfolded before his eyes in writing. He skimmed through her colorful romantic history—accurately, her history of being maintained by men.

His gaze froze: At nineteen, she had given birth to a daughter at the Shancheng Health Clinic.

Before that, she had only had one steady lover…

Xi Heng looked out the window. His deep eyes narrowed slightly, the expression in them complicated. He was already ninety percent certain that Yangyang’s biological father was—

Ding Wu.