Mr. Lu, stop being such a jerk. Your wife is your nemesis's white moonlight.

Xu An'an stared blankly at the man in front of her, momentarily forgetting to breathe.

Bathed in the warm yellow light of the corridor, Yan Heng's tall figure stood at the entrance.

Departing from his usual suits, he wore a black casual shirt today, its crisp cut emphasizing his broad shoulders and narrow waist. One button was casually undone at the collar, revealing a glimpse of his sharp neck and collarbone; further down, the outline of his pectoral muscles was unmistakable even through the clothes…

Xu An'an quickly looked away and lowered her head in a panic.

This seemed to be the first time in a long time that she had seen Yan Heng not wearing formal attire.

But this... is just too unfair.

With such a handsome face, and dressed like this now, can't he consider the mental and physical health of the vast number of women living alone?

Xu An'an tried to adjust her breathing, but she still couldn't stop her cheeks from burning.

Seeing Xu An'an's almost ripe earlobes, Yan Heng subtly curled the corners of his mouth. "What were you trying to say?"

"Oh," Xu An'an snapped out of her daze, hurriedly looking away, "I thought it was Dongdong knocking on the door, um..." She cleared her throat awkwardly:

"Why...why are you here so early?"

"It's getting late," Yan Heng said, shoving his phone in front of her. "It's already 12 o'clock. The house is a bit far from here, but if we go over now, we can see the surrounding scenery."

"Oh... okay, then wait for me to get ready."

Xu An'an turned and walked into the house, but her wrist was suddenly grabbed as soon as she took a step.

She instinctively turned around, only to see Yan Heng also leaning down, looking at her, and asking, "Are you just going to make me wait here?"

The crisp scent of pineapple wafted over her, and coupled with Yan Heng's deep and pleasant voice, Xu An'an's heart skipped a beat.

Help!

Why are you standing so close?

I'm a woman whose hormones are all out of whack!

Xu An'an was inwardly groaning, but a movie queen is a movie queen; even with a storm raging inside, she could still maintain a composed and dignified expression.

She kept her voice steady and extended a generous invitation: "Hey, please come in. What kind of look is it to wait outside? I was just in too much of a hurry."

She casually pulled Yan Heng inside, babbling incoherently, "Make yourself at home. Have you eaten? I just woke up, I'll just tidy up a bit and then leave. Wait a moment, I'll be right there—"

"Xu An'an,"

Yan Heng interrupted her incessant chatter, casually found a sofa to sit on, and looked up into her eyes: "What are you so nervous about?"

Xu An'an was taken aback, and subconsciously retorted, "No, I'm not nervous! What do I have to be nervous about... What nonsense are you talking about..."

"You have a habit," Yan Heng raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flashing in his dark eyes, "that makes you talk even more when you're nervous."

Xu An'an's eyes widened, almost jumping up and down: "No way! When did I do that?!"

Yan Heng lowered his head, burying his barely suppressed laughter in the shadows. He raised his left hand and gently shook his watch. "Alright, hurry up and pack up, we're in a hurry."

"..."

Xu An'an felt a breath catch in her throat, and she turned to look at herself in the mirror.

When I was washing my face, my hair was casually tied up at the back of my head, the loose bun looked like it was about to collapse. I wasn't wearing any makeup, and even my pajamas were a little wet from the water when I washed my face.

She glanced furtively at the man on the sofa, who was lounging with his legs crossed, reading a book. It seemed she needed to hurry up and "tidy herself up."

......

Xu An'an's room was a suite. Yan Heng sat on the sofa in the living room, flipping through a financial magazine while waiting for her.

I just grabbed this magazine from the hotel bookshelf; I have no idea how long ago it was published.

However, Yan Heng didn't care, since he hadn't absorbed a single word anyway.

He was actually quite uncomfortable, genuinely uncomfortable—the clothes were really uncomfortable to move in, and he had so much hairspray on his head that it made his scalp feel tight.

As a typical straight man from the North, he never cared too much about his appearance. Even though he vaguely knew he was good-looking, he never felt that his face was that important to him—until yesterday, when Xu An'an said he was good-looking.

After returning home last night, he asked Song Zhe to contact the styling team. He sat in front of the mirror for almost half an hour to prepare for today's hairstyle.

This morning, the stylist, holding a hair clip, sprayed hairspray on his head while saying, "Mr. Yan, this is the most popular side-parted split-hem hairstyle this year. It suits your style perfectly."

Whether it suited his style or not, Yan Heng didn't know, but his head definitely felt heavier. Looking at himself in the mirror, who looked almost the same as usual, he asked, puzzled, "Was it really necessary to use so much hairspray?"

"It's necessary!" The stylist was clearly very satisfied with his masterpiece and patiently explained:

"The essence of this hairstyle is to reveal a touch of gentleness and casualness within its calm and sharp lines, so the texture of the hair on the sides must have some curve. Mr. Yan, your hair is too stiff; if you don't use enough hairspray, it won't hold, and that gentleness will be gone, making you look fierce. Also..."

fierce?

Upon hearing this word, Yan Heng frowned and looked in the mirror again.

This was the first time in his life that he had seriously examined his own face.

The person in the mirror had dark pupils and thick, dark eyebrows that were as sharp and steep as daggers.

...Indeed very fierce.

Is this how he usually looks...?

No wonder Xu An'an doesn't like him.

Yan Heng suddenly thought of Lu Yiming. Although that person was hypocritical to the core, he had to admit that he was indeed much more gentle and refined than himself.

So, that's the kind of look Xu An'an likes?

Thinking of this, Yan Heng raised his head, interrupting the hairstylist's long-winded explanation of artistic pursuits, and said coldly, "Spray on more hairspray."

......

Xu An'an had only been staying at this hotel for two days, and her already small amount of luggage was barely touched, making packing exceptionally quick.

It was not yet one o'clock in the afternoon when the two dragged their suitcases to the hotel's underground parking garage.

Xu An'an habitually walked to the back seat, but Yan Heng opened the passenger door first: "Sit here, I'll drive today."

"...Okay." Although Xu An'an didn't want to get too close to Yan Heng right now, it would be impolite to insist on sitting in the back under these circumstances. She nodded, opened the car door, and sat in the passenger seat.

A deep engine roared up, and a tingling resonance came from the seat.

Xu An'an paused as she fastened her seatbelt, suddenly realizing that this was the first time she had ridden in Yan Heng's car.

She turned her head slightly to look at the man beside her.

Yan Heng was focused on the road conditions, his left hand casually resting on the top of the steering wheel. When he looked into the blind spot, his Adam's apple bulged sharply in the shadow of his collar.

Handsome, mature, and extremely charming.

For some reason, Xu An'an suddenly remembered the first time she met Yan Heng.