Steam curled upward in soft white ribbons, the surface of the hot spring shimmering like molten glass. Nie Rougang lay half-submerged against the edge, his broad shoulders glistening beneath the rising mist. He had positioned himself near the hottest point of the pool—the high temperature soothed the deep ache in his arm, the same old wound torn open again after fighting Li Meiran.
His brows knitted faintly in thought, eyelids lowered just enough to hide the storm brooding behind them. He looked as if he were carved from stone—unyielding, silent, impossible to read.
Light footsteps paused outside.
A small shadow peeked in.
Song Yue.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Uncle…"
Her voice was intentionally soft, almost sugary.
Nie Rougang, however, didn't react.
"Xu Feng told me everything," she said, walking closer. "You asked him to follow me that day."
His eyes snapped open, sharp as an eagle's. His jaw tightened. Xu Feng was courting death, daring to reveal that.
Song Yue hurried to add, "Don't be angry with him. I scared him with flowers. He was in the medical room tending a wound, and I just… put the flowers near his nose."
Of all things she could've done—
Flowers? Seriously?
Xu Feng, the strongest of his men, was fatally allergic to pollen. Song Yue knew it. The moment a flower touched his airspace, he folded like wet paper. She didn't need martial arts—she only needed a daisy.
Nie Rougang's voice dropped to a dangerous cold. "You are so devious at times, Song Yue. I despair at your behavior."
Of course, she was devious. He'd raised her. She learned it all from him.
But Song Yue only lifted her chin and sat on the edge of the pool, boldly dipping one foot into the steaming water. "I've decided to forgive you. I don't care why you chased me away."
Her pride sparkled on her face, like a queen granting mercy.
Nie Rougang didn't share the sentiment. He rose from the water, droplets sliding over the defined lines of his body. "I haven't forgiven you," he said with a low, icy tone, "for your recent actions."
He turned and strode toward the door. This girl had not apologized properly. She dared pretend nothing happened, as if she hadn't endangered her life.
Song Yue yanked her foot back and jumped to chase after him—
But she slipped on the wet stone.
"AHHH!"
The splash echoed like a thunderclap. Steam swallowed her whole.
She resurfaced with a gasp, hair plastered to her cheeks. "Hot... It's so hot!"
Nie Rougang spun around like a flash of lightning. He shot across the room, reached into the water, and hauled her out with both arms wrapped around her trembling frame.
"Where are you hurt?" he demanded, scanning her anxiously. "Your head? Your legs? Did you hit anything?"
Song Yue blinked water out of her eyes. She was fine—just soaked. But the concern in his voice made her heart flip.
So she did what she always did—
Acted.
She threw herself against his chest, pretending to sob. "IT HURTS! Waaaah!"
"Let me see," he said, panic and irritation mixing in his voice.
But something flickered at the bottom of the hot spring—dark and sinuous, like a shadow slicing through the water.
"Uncle… what's that?" Song Yue whispered, pointing.
Nie Rougang pulled her closer in an instant. "There's nothing. You're seeing things. You probably hit your head."
His tone was too fast, too firm.
He didn't want her looking again.
He carried her out of the hot spring room. "We're going back to my room. I need to check you."
She glanced over his shoulder, still uneasy. She had definitely seen something. A dark shape. A ripple that moved against the flow of water. But he dismissed it quickly—too quickly.
Was it really her imagination…?
*
Back in the bedroom, he ordered her into the bathroom. "Take a bath again."
"But I just—"
"Song Yue." His tone brooked no argument.
She shut the door with a pout. That expression—even he couldn't handle.
When she came out wrapped in a towel, she found him sitting on the sofa, rolling up his sleeves while applying thick herbal ointment to his arms and legs. Scars surfaced faintly beneath the steam—a map of injuries he'd carried home from abroad months ago. No one knew how he got them. No one dared ask.
"Let me help," she said, stepping forward.
He caught her wrist before she could touch the jar. "Don't. I'm taking you back to the old mansion tomorrow."
Her blood froze. Then boiled. "Nie Rougang, f*ck you! I said I forgave you, and you're sending me back again? I'm not going!"
"Don't swear," he bit out. "And if you don't behave, I'll teach you a lesson."
His voice boomed like thunder. But even as he tried to glare, his shoulders dropped. Exhaustion etched lines at the corners of his eyes. He sighed.
Finally, he said quietly, "I'll go to the old mansion too."
Song Yue blinked. Her anger faltered at once. "What?"Was he
He was going back? He never went back.
Something was wrong. And then—
He gave her his bedroom.
He took the guest room.
That was the last straw.
Song Yue stomped on the mattress like a furious cat. "Why do we have to sleep separately? If you have guts, let me stay with you! Why are you doing this, Nie Rougang!"
From the hallway, he paused. A vein throbbed at his temple.
Why was she so obsessed with sleeping beside him?
They weren't married. They weren't supposed to—
But they had lived together for so long that distance felt like punishment.
He sighed helplessly. How was he supposed to make her stop thinking about him?
*
Later That Night;
After arguing with Lan Xia on chat, Song Yue felt no better. Pride still burned in her chest. She refused to be the one in the wrong.
She slipped out of bed like a stealthy cat and padded to the guest room.
Inside, Nie Rougang slept quietly, breathing slowly and deeply. Without the weight of the day's anger, he looked almost boyish. Peaceful. and Quite Untouchable.
Song Yue hovered beside him, opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish.
What could she even say? Sorry? That word burned her tongue.
Then—
"I know you're there." His voice drifted out lazily, eyes still closed. "You may admire me for three minutes. Then leave."
Song Yue froze.
That damn fuc*er was pretending to sleep!
His eyes opened—sharp, predatory—and she fell right into their pull.
"Uncle…" she whispered, sliding closer. "Please forgive me for the trouble I caused with Li Meiran… but I won't apologize for wanting to stay here."
She wrapped her arms around his, clinging like a stubborn puppy determined to melt him with sheer will.
Nie Rougang arched a brow.
This little minx.
Admit her mistake one second—manipulate him the next.
"So," she said in a sweet voice but boldly…
"I've decided to apologize to you!"