I'm sorry, but your fiancé loves me.

Yun Muqian knew that she was becoming more and more important to Qin Qihan.

So she needs to start trying to take a step forward.

One weekend afternoon, Qin Qihan was working on some documents in his study when she brought in a cup of tea and placed it beside him. She didn't leave immediately but stood leaning against the edge of the table for a while.

"By the way," she said, "is that wedding room you and Zhou Xue prepared still empty?"

Of course, it's still empty.

"I'm tired of my old place and I've been looking at new places. Where is yours?" She tilted her head, as if seriously considering it. "I heard it's a sea-view property."

Qin Qihan put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and looked at her: "Which one do you want to stay in?"

She neither said yes nor no, but simply smiled and said, "I was just asking."

"Sure," he said calmly. "You can stay if you want."

Yun Muqian was surprised that he agreed so readily, so readily that all the tests and steps she had prepared fell flat.

The next day, they went directly to that house.

It was a very expensive ocean-view apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a beach. The decor was in warm colors, and an unopened cashmere blanket was draped over the sofa. Everything was brand new, clean, and showed no signs of having been lived in.

Yun Muqian stood in the center of the living room and spun around. "So beautiful."

Qin Qihan walked up from behind. She heard his footsteps, then her waist tightened as his arm wrapped around her from behind, and his chin rested on her shoulder.

"If you like it, I'll give it to you."

She turned her head, her cheek almost touching his: "Isn't this the house you bought for her? And you're just giving it to me like this?"

His voice was muffled, tinged with displeasure: "Don't mention her now."

Yun Muqian turned to face him, placing her hands on his shoulders: "Okay, let's not talk about her."

They spent the night in the house. The mattress in the bedroom was not the softness she was used to, but it didn't matter; she would get a new one later.

Anyway, this room will never be Zhou Xue's wedding room again.

The next morning she was awakened by the light. The curtains of the French windows were only half drawn, and the morning light cut in at an angle, falling on the foot of the bed.

She quietly slipped out of his arms, went to the bathroom to wash up, and then searched the kitchen, finding only a few eggs, a carton of milk, and some basic seasonings in the refrigerator.

She tied on an apron, cracked the eggs, turned on the stove, heated the oil, and the moment the egg mixture was poured in, it sizzled, and the aroma quickly filled the quiet kitchen.

She was scooping the fried eggs onto a plate when she heard footsteps behind her. A pair of arms reached around her waist, grabbed her from the front, and pulled her back a step, into a warm embrace.

His chin rested on the top of her head, his breath falling on her hair, carrying the lazy, deep nasal sound of someone just waking up.

"What are you doing?"

"Fried egg. There's not much in the fridge, so make do with this for now. We'll go out and buy some groceries at noon." She tilted her head, the spatula still in her hand. "Let go, I'll take this out."

He didn't loosen his grip; instead, he tightened it a little, his chin sliding from the top of her head to the side of her neck, his warm lips brushing against her earlobe.

Yun Muqian felt ticklish from his teasing, shrank her neck, and laughed out loud: "Qin Qihan, how childish are you?"

"Not childish," he said in a low voice. "You continue with yours, I'll hold mine."

This is perhaps what home feels like. He thought that if he were with Yun Muqian, every day would be just as happy.

She didn't chase him away anymore, and let him wrap his arms around her from behind, awkwardly putting the fried eggs and toasted bread into a plate.

After breakfast was prepared, Qin Qihan sat down opposite her, picked up a knife and fork, cut a piece of fried egg, put it in his mouth, chewed it a couple of times, and didn't say anything.

"How is it?" she asked him.

"good."

What does "it's alright" mean?

He swallowed what was in his mouth, looked at her, and after several seconds spoke: "It just means it's pretty good."

Just then, the door lock suddenly clicked.

Yun Muqian and Qin Qihan looked up at the same time. The door was pushed open from the outside, and Zhou Xue was wearing a beige trench coat, carrying a brand-new Birkin bag, followed by several women who looked like her friends.

It seems Zhou Xue brought her friends specifically to visit their wedding home.

Yun Muqian instinctively turned to leave, but Qin Qihan spoke up unexpectedly:

"Sit down."

She sat back down. Zhou Xue had been smiling, but the moment she stepped into the entryway, her smile froze on her face, and her bag fell to the ground with a "thud".

The living room was quiet, with a cozy breakfast laid out on the dining table. Qin Qihan sat at the table wearing a casual gray T-shirt, while Yun Muqian was also dressed simply, her apron still on.

Zhou Xue's face turned deathly pale in an instant.

Her friends behind her clearly realized what was happening and stood awkwardly in place, unable to move forward or backward.

Yun Muqian untied her apron with ease, her tone perfectly measured:

"Good morning, Madam. I'm here to deliver some documents to Mr. Qin. I noticed he hadn't had breakfast yet, so I quickly made one for him in the kitchen, thinking he shouldn't work on an empty stomach. Please don't misunderstand."

"What do you mean?" Zhou Xue's voice trembled. She took a step forward, her high heels clicking loudly on the floor. "What do you mean? You're here to make breakfast for my husband?"

Qin Qihan's face remained expressionless: "Why are you here?"

Zhou Xue seemed stung by those words, and said sadly, "This is our home, the house I chose..."

Then she abruptly turned her head, pointing her finger directly at Yun Muqian's nose, the tip almost poking her face:

"It's all your fault! It must be you! Who do you think you are? You're just a secretary, coming to the boss's house wearing an apron and cooking for him? Have you no shame? Do you know you're the mistress?"

Zhou Xue completely lost control of her emotions and raised her hand to slap Yun Muqian across the face.

But the hand didn't land. Qin Qihan grabbed Zhou Xue's wrist, then stood in front of Yun Muqian, shielding her behind him, his voice low and deep:

"Stop fooling around."

Zhou Xue's eyes instantly reddened. She took two steps back, her lips trembling, and tears welled up unexpectedly, washing away a black mark from her carefully drawn eyeliner.

"Me, making a scene? Qin Qihan, what do you take me for?"

What devastated her most was that Qin Qihan was actually protecting Yun Muqian.

However, Qin Qihan had no intention of explaining. His broad shoulders shielded Yun Muqian behind him, giving her a strong sense of security. Zhou Xue couldn't understand what she had done to deserve Qin Qihan's protection.

Zhou Xue turned around abruptly, her high heels causing her to stumble and almost fall. She steadied herself by holding onto the door frame and rushed out without looking back, a suppressed sob escaping her throat.

The friends she brought also left quickly, leaving only Qin Qihan and Yun Muqian in the huge house.

He turned around and gently stroked her cheek:

"Don't be afraid, leave the rest to me."