Professor Xie, isn't this a case of forcing customers to buy products that don't match the

The two walked downstairs hand in hand.

Under the watchful eyes of the neighbors, some openly, some covertly, some with envy, some with curiosity, Mr. and Mrs. Shang got into the car waiting downstairs.

Shang Song overheard his familiar neighbors saying, "What kind of high-ranking position has the old Shang family climbed up to?" "Incredible! Look at that grandeur, twelve cars in total..." "That young man is really handsome, but he looks too cold, not like an ordinary person..." "Indeed, those betrothal gifts, my god, they were dazzling when they were carried up..."

Shang Song tightened his grip on Xie Jing's fingers slightly. He hadn't been unaware of these discussions, but hearing them with his own ears still made him feel somewhat... uncomfortable.

He knew that from this day forward, in the eyes of these neighbors, he was no longer just the son of an old merchant; he was the biggest topic of gossip!

Xie Jing noticed the subtle change in his emotions almost immediately, tightened his grip on his hand, and helped Shang Song into the car.

After the car door closed, Xie Jing hugged him and comforted him, saying, "Don't worry about it, you're just Shang Song."

Shang Song sniffed and buried her face in Xie Jing's arms. "I want to hear you call me Songsong."

Xie Jing smiled, hugged the person tighter, and whispered in her ear, "Songsong, Songsong, Songsong."

"Alright! Alright! Alright!" Shang Song's ears turned bright red. "Why did you call me that so many times? It's so cheesy!"

The convoy started moving slowly.

Those gazes and those discussions gradually faded away.

The old streetscape was gradually replaced by the clean and wide roads of the new district, and the car finally stopped in front of that villa.

Mrs. Shang was the first to get off the bus.

Then came a gasp: "!!!"

As Shang Song got out of the car, he saw his mother already walking briskly to the white fence in front of the villa, pointing to the garden inside, so excited she was almost incoherent:

"Wow, this is huge?! Old Shang, look! This soil is so fertile! We can plant roses here, build trellises for wisteria over there, and even plant a row of hydrangeas in the corner! Wow! This is even better than I dreamed of!"

Mr. Shang also got off the bus, carrying his luggage. Seeing Mrs. Shang's appearance, he couldn't help but complain, "You change your mind so quickly! Just a moment ago you were saying on the bus that you couldn't bear to part with the old neighbors, worried that no one would want to dance in the square with you anymore?"

"What do you know!" Mrs. Shang turned around. "We see each other every day! The new and old districts aren't far apart, and this garden is a real one! I've had enough of our shabby balcony! It's such a hassle to even plant anything!"

She turned to Xie Jing, who was looking at her with a smile, and asked, "Little Xie, is this garden really up to me to do as I please?"

"Of course, Auntie," Xie Jing replied gently. "We've already hired a gardener to take care of things regularly, but what flowers and plants to plant and how to arrange them is entirely up to you. Just let them know if you need anything."

"Great! Great!" Mrs. Shang was overjoyed, all her worries gone. She had already started browsing Taobao, JD.com, and Pinduoduo to buy all kinds of flower seeds.

As the group entered the villa, Lin Zhou was directing the staff to arrange various pieces of furniture.

After placing each piece of furniture in its designated spot, Lin Zhou would write down its exact location to help Mr. and Mrs. Shang find the items later.

Mr. Shang, carrying his precious tea set, searched for the most suitable spot in the living room cabinet.

After he had chosen the perfect spot, Mr. Shang was led by Xie Jing to the study on the first floor, where he saw two camphor wood chests.

When the box was opened, Mr. Shang's reaction was even more exaggerated than Mrs. Shang's.

He practically lunged at the book box, put on his reading glasses, and then on the white gloves that Xie Jing had prepared for him, trembling as he stroked the book covers.

It's two whole boxes of photocopies of ancient books!

Moreover, the towering bookshelves were filled with rows of classics, histories, philosophical works, and literary collections, and on the desk in the middle, there was a white glove box, a magnifying glass, bookmarks, and a whole set of reading tools.

This was a sure-fire blow for Mr. Shang, who is a history teacher.

Mr. Shang was so excited that he could not speak coherently. The way he looked at the books was even more ardent and affectionate than when he looked at his own son.

Shang Song looked at Xie Jing, who stood to the side, concealing his merits and fame: "..."

That evening's dinner was prepared by Chef Liu, who was "on a business trip" with Xie Jing, and the flavors catered to the preferences of the two business owners.

But Shang's mother was clearly distracted. While eating, she kept tapping on her phone screen, comparing reviews of rose seedlings from different shops.

Mr. Shang lost his appetite, chatting incessantly with Xie Jing about the differences between various versions of a certain historical text.

After dinner, Mrs. Shang sat in the living room and continued placing orders like crazy, while Mr. Shang went to his study early on.

Shang Song was half-coaxed and half-carried upstairs by Xie Jing.

From the second-floor terrace, you can see the city lights in the distance, and the evening breeze carries the fragrance of late spring flowers.

Xie Jing hugged Shang Song from behind, rested his chin on the top of his head, and asked in a low voice, "Are you still sad?"

Shang Song knew what he was asking, and shook his head. "It was a little awkward during the day, but thinking about it, it's nothing. Anyway, I won't be coming back to stay here often in the future, so let them say what they want."

He paused, then moved even closer to Xie Jing's embrace. "Besides, you've always been like this."

Yes, Xie Jing has always been like that.

The way he appears, the procedures he follows, the resources he mobilizes... from the very beginning, it was anything but ordinary.

What others see as grand gestures and extravagant displays is merely the tip of the iceberg in Xie Jing's world, or even the result of Xie Jing's efforts to restrain himself.

Marrying Xie Jing meant that he was about to embark on a completely new life.

Shang Song had already mentally prepared himself for this when he vaguely considered marrying Xie Jing that day.

However, when those differences actually reached his ears through the gossip of his neighbors, he still felt somewhat uncomfortable.

However, Shang Song knew that what others saw of Xie Jing was perhaps a dazzling, unapproachable figure.

Others were amazed by Xie Jing's twelve carriages and the dazzling array of betrothal gifts...

However, in Shang Song's eyes, Xie Jing was just Xie Jing.

A handsome, gentle, and sometimes a bit wooden Xie Jing.

He was the only one who revealed to Shang Song the truth hidden beneath the dazzling light of Xie Jing, a man who had suffered severe trauma and suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder for twenty years.

Xie Jing held the person in his arms, feeling his complete acceptance, and responded softly, "Mmm."

He didn't say anything more after that. He lowered his head, buried his face in Shang Song's neck, and gently kissed him.

The kisses gradually moved downwards, with a slight biting force, not too strong, and not painful.

Shang Song's legs went weak from his kisses. "Xie Jing, stop biting, it hurts."

Xie Jing stopped his meticulous biting, his voice low and hoarse, "Songsong."

"Um?"

"I'm taking a day off." Xie Jing said casually, but Shang Song understood, and his cheeks instantly flushed pink.

Xie Jing's fingertips slowly tightened around Shang Song's waist. His eyes, which appeared exceptionally deep in the night, gazed intently at Shang Song. "Can we do it?"

Shang Song didn't object, but blushed and muttered, "...Then you can't torture me to death this time, this isn't Cloud Peak."

Xie Jing chuckled softly, picked Shang Song up in his arms, and turned to walk back to their new bedroom in the villa.

Shang Song was placed on the new bed. Xie Jing leaned down, bit his ear, and whispered:

"As much as possible."