Chapter 45: Never Tired of Hearing It a Hundred Times

Fu Juxing served her some porridge, turned to look at her, and asked, “Isn’t that so?”

Lin Wanbai met his gaze but didn’t immediately give her confirmation.

Fu Changjun’s face was alight with delight. “Really, Xiaobai?”

Lin Wanbai thought for about five seconds, then nodded. “Yes, for now that’s true. But things will change. I haven’t fully figured out what I want to do yet—being his secretary is just a transition. In a couple of days, I need to go to Paris. They’ve invited me to watch a show and write something. Honestly, I’m quite busy.”

Fu Changjun grinned from ear to ear. “Xiaobai, you’ve been outstanding since you were little. With your talent, you mustn’t let it go to waste—or else Old Lin will be heartbroken again.”

Lin Wanbai flashed a brilliant smile.

After breakfast, the two left the house.

Lin Wanbai walked slowly, thanks to him—she was indeed still a bit uncomfortable.

As she was silently grumbling to herself, Fu Juxing suddenly crouched down in front of her. “Hop on.”

“For what?” Lin Wanbai pouted. She simply didn’t want to go to work; she was tired and wanted to stay in bed and rest properly.

Without another word, Fu Juxing reached out, gripped her thigh, and with a tug, Lin Wanbai fell onto his back. He stood up in one smooth motion. A housekeeper passed by; Lin Wanbai was too embarrassed to struggle and could only act composed, lying on his back, leaning to his ear, and whispering, “Don’t think this will make me less angry.”

He chuckled. “Then I suppose I’ll have to try harder.”

“What?” She didn’t catch his words.

But Fu Juxing didn’t repeat himself.

At the company, Lin Wanbai’s desk was already set up inside Fu Juxing’s office, right under his nose—where he could see her the moment he looked up from his work. The desk was the right size, adorned with a potted plant and a small, delicate bouquet—a very thoughtful arrangement.

But it was a bit too meticulous. Lin Wanbai didn’t really like it; it felt as if she were a decorative piece in the office, and she was no such thing.

Before she could say anything, Fu Juxing called for Lei Sen. “Who bought this?”

Lei Sen was a little stunned, not quite reacting.

“This desk. Who bought it?”

Lei Sen saw his expression and realized it was the wrong desk. He had even dragged Liang Xi along for the purchase to avoid mistakes—and still got it wrong?

“I—I bought it.”

“What did I tell you?” Fu Juxing didn’t press further. “Never mind. Go buy a simpler one. Don’t make it so flashy.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lei Sen left the office. Liang Xi happened to be coming in with coffee and, seeing his expression, asked quietly, “What’s wrong? Why that look after just one visit in?”

Lei Sen glared at her, clicking his tongue. “Should’ve known better than to listen to you.”

“What? The lady doesn’t like the desk?”

“Of course not.”

“Why? It’s pretty. I asked several friends—they all said it was nice.”

“I shouldn’t have trusted you. I thought you knew her well, but you’re shooting in the dark.”

Liang Xi raised her brow. “Please, I’m President Fu’s secretary, not hers. How would I know her preferences? But from a woman’s perspective, she ought to like it.”

“Maybe you’re not a woman then.” Lei Sen didn’t bother arguing further and left with the car keys.

Liang Xi, carrying the coffee, knocked on the office door.

Upon entering, she found Lin Wanbai and Fu Juxing flirting. Lin Wanbai was sitting on his lap, their manner intimate. Liang Xi quickly backed out, leaving the door ajar.

It wasn’t that Lin Wanbai was acting out of place in the office—it was Fu Juxing’s doing; he’d pulled her onto his lap. She tried to struggle, glaring at him.

But Fu Juxing was unmoved, smiling at her before calling out to Liang Xi, who was waiting at the door, “Come in.”

Liang Xi entered—their posture unchanged.

She walked to the desk, set down the coffee, and asked, “Madam, what would you like to drink?”

Fu Juxing replied, “Just make her a cup of tea.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once Liang Xi left and closed the door, Lin Wanbai began to struggle. “That’s enough—let me go.”

“Still mad?”

“Mad? I’m not mad.”

“Good. Then I’ll work with you in my arms today. You smell wonderful today.” He leaned in and inhaled gently by her ear.

Lin Wanbai shivered with goosebumps. She clicked her tongue. “Fu Juxing, aren’t you afraid your staff will gossip?”

“What’s there to gossip about? I’m holding my wife, not someone else. Am I not allowed to hold my own wife?”

Looking at him now, Lin Wanbai felt a complex tangle of emotions. She liked this kind of intimacy, but lately, it all felt a bit unreal, like a dream. In her dreams, Fu Juxing was exactly like this—domineering and gentle.

She felt they should have a proper conversation—open, honest, and deep.

Someone was about to enter again. Lin Wanbai quickly got off his lap. “I’m going to nap, you get to work.”

He didn’t force her, letting her rest.

In the lounge, as he’d promised, the bed had been replaced with a bigger, softer one. She lay down and found it indeed comfortable.

She was genuinely tired and soon fell asleep.

Outside, Liang Xi brought in the tea.

Fu Juxing told her to leave it on the desk.

After putting it down, she glanced toward the lounge, then at the much-maligned desk. “Madam doesn’t like that desk?”

Fu Juxing sipped his coffee. “It’s too gaudy for her taste.”

She sighed, scratching her head. “I really thought she’d like it.”

“If you do, take it home.”

She smiled. “Should I pay for it?”

Fu Juxing looked up with a quiet laugh. “No need.”

“Then I’ll gladly accept.”

…

Lin Wanbai slept until noon. Fu Juxing woke her for lunch. There was a full set of toiletries and skincare products for her, all thoughtfully prepared.

After a simple wash, she joined him for lunch.

She felt much better for the nap, and the dishes were all her favorites.

Sitting across from him, she said, “I need to go to Paris this Friday. I promised Kevin a month ago that I’d go.” She emphasized the point.

“How many days will you be gone?”

“Three or four, probably. I’ll also do some sightseeing and meet up with friends.”

“All right, I’ll see if I can clear my schedule and go with you.”

“You want to come too?”

“Yes.”

“What for? You don’t even like it.”

“I don’t feel comfortable with you going alone.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. Haven’t I been on my own the last two years?”

He didn’t reply, but his stance was clear. After a pause, he suddenly said, “Honestly, I don’t think you need to go.”

“Oh?”

“Year after year, the novelty wears off. Same brand—you’ve already been four or five times.”

Lin Wanbai smiled. “This isn’t the same brand as before. And besides, this time Fu Miao is the finale. Of course I have to see how she fares—see if she embarrasses herself.”

“How do you know she’ll embarrass herself?”

Lin Wanbai giggled. “I don’t. It’s just wishful thinking on my part—no harm in that. She’s quite capable, really. Getting to close a big show means she’s doing well in the international fashion world, making a name for herself.”

“If she’s stunning enough, she might really break out. Her standing in the industry would be completely different then. She should thank me for not taking the same path as her—otherwise, where would she have a place? Just think, back when we were in school, I always overshadowed her. Every major exam, when the year ranking was announced, the look on her face—oh, I was overjoyed.”

Lin Wanbai’s smile was dazzling. She’d been a little sun since childhood, radiating such energy that she drew everyone in, as if it was only natural that people would orbit around her.

“But I really did work hard back then—they had no idea how much effort I put in every day after school.”

Thinking back, those days were tough. She had to study hard and take care of Fu Juxing, balancing both and managing her time every single day. It was exhausting.

Fu Juxing said, “I’ll go with you.”

Lin Wanbai glanced at him, making no comment.

That evening, he had a social engagement, but took her along—though not to the dinner itself. Instead, he reserved a private room in the same restaurant, set up a table just for her, and had her dine alone.

He came by once, sat for five minutes, then returned to his business.

Lin Wanbai found it rather endearing—he really wanted to keep her by his side at all times, as if he could tuck her into his waistband and take her everywhere.

The dinner lasted three hours before ending. Lei Sen took others to a club for some entertainment.

Fu Juxing, however, went home with Lin Wanbai.

He’d had some to drink, but only smelled of alcohol.

They returned to Lanshe, where Aunt Rong was already back.

On the way, Lin Wanbai called ahead to have her prepare some hangover soup, so Fu Juxing could have it right away.

As soon as they sat down, Aunt Rong brought out the soup and quietly withdrew.

Only the two of them remained in the living room. He drank half a bowl, then set it on the coffee table. “Did you ask Aunt Rong to come back?”

“Yes. She’s not comfortable in Sibei—much better to stay here.”

He smiled, reaching out to touch her face. “You really are thoughtful. I’d forgotten all about it.”

“You’re busy.”

She didn’t take him straight to the bedroom, but let him sit there. She had her reasons.

He loosened his tie, took off his jacket, unfastened his cufflinks, and tossed them on the table. “You’ve got something on your mind, haven’t you?”

Lin Wanbai turned slightly, her smile unchanged. “Shouldn’t we talk?”

He nodded. “As long as it’s not about divorce, we can talk about anything.”

He leaned back, settling into a comfortable position, his gaze fixed on her.

Lin Wanbai thought for a moment. The whole day, she’d been wondering how to begin this conversation, where to start. In the end, she found it almost funny—they’d been married three years, yet didn’t even know how to have an open, honest conversation.

What kind of marriage was this?

She looked at him, and after a long silence, smiled to herself, a touch of self-mockery in the curve of her lips.

“When I said I wanted a divorce, what went through your mind?”

“I won’t divorce you. As long as there’s no divorce, anything else is fine.”

“So you covered for me?”

He nodded.

“Then what are you doing now?”

Fu Juxing leaned closer, his gaze deep and utterly unguarded. “Maybe you don’t know this, but I’m extremely possessive—so much that I frighten myself. So I restrained myself, tolerated things, because I didn’t want to scare you off. I was afraid you’d be even more determined to leave me.”

“But if the result of that tolerance is the same, then there’s no reason for me to restrain myself anymore.” He leaned in, his lips almost brushing her ear, his voice low and every word etched into her mind. “Don’t have any more contact with Han Chen. I’m afraid I won’t be able to control myself—I might destroy him.”

Lin Wanbai’s heart jolted, and she trembled involuntarily. His tone was so cold it chilled her. She turned her head sharply, meeting his warm lips.

He didn’t give her a chance to reply; one hand cradled the back of her head, deepening the kiss.

She struggled briefly, but he seized her wrist, not letting her break free.

But he didn’t go further—did nothing inappropriate in the living room—just kissed her.

After a long while, he drew her into his arms, kissed her forehead, and said softly, “You’ve succeeded. I’ve long since fallen in love with you.”

The sudden confession left Lin Wanbai stunned. After a few seconds, she jerked her head up. “What did you say?”

“I love you.”

He smiled, gaze gentle as water.

Lin Wanbai still couldn’t quite believe it—was this a dream? It all felt unreal. “What?”

He laughed softly. “Do you want me to say it again?”

She answered earnestly, “I didn’t hear you.”

Some words never get old, no matter how many times you hear them.

He said, “I love you.”

Lin Wanbai pressed her lips together, holding back tears, emotions surging inside her. On the surface, she appeared calm, but inside, she was a turbulent sea. She felt lightheaded—as if she’d had a drink even though she hadn’t. She was floating.

She gritted her teeth, but in the end couldn’t help it, turned away, and began to laugh. Then she gave a soft snort, mocking herself for being so useless.

She’d imagined many times what it would be like if Fu Juxing said these three words, but could never picture it. Now he’d said them, and it still felt like a dream—unreal.

She pinched her thigh hard—it hurt terribly, so it wasn’t a dream; it was all real.

So, the slow-boiling frog approach does work.

She covered her face with both hands, wanting to slip away to calm down, but Fu Juxing wouldn’t let her.

He pulled her hands down, and she immediately pressed her lips together, collecting her smile, affecting calm, meeting his gaze, unable to speak for fear she’d break down.

Fu Juxing looked at her. “Say something.”

She just made a quiet hum, turned away, and said nothing, maintaining her aloofness.

He didn’t push her, only leaned in, resting his forehead on her shoulder. After a long silence, he suddenly asked, “Do you want to use the toy you bought last time?”

Lin Wanbai didn’t get it at first, but then she realized. That damned toy—he’d remembered it all along, and even hidden it himself! No wonder she’d never found it since.

After that, the two of them got along more harmoniously than ever. All the barriers between them were gone; at last, their wishes had come true, and they could move forward together.

On Friday, Fu Juxing accompanied her to Paris.

Since this was Fu Miao’s big show, Fu Yanchuan had also come—a day earlier, staying at the same hotel as Fu Miao.

As it happened, Fu Juxing and Lin Wanbai were also put up there.

The day they arrived, both parties were aware.

There were plenty of reporters here, all big names. They were family, after all—there was no reason not to meet.

So that day, Fu Yanchuan and Fu Miao came to pick them up. Coincidentally, Zhao Yiling arrived at the same time. She’d been invited by Fu Miao. After their day trip to Fukushima, the two had exchanged contacts and kept in touch privately.

From her subtle hints, it was clear to Fu Miao that Zhao Yiling liked Fu Yanchuan.

The two got along well—their tempers and personalities were similar, and they had plenty of common interests, so conversation was never a problem. When together, there was rarely any awkwardness.

So long as nothing unexpected happened, they were likely to become a couple.

Fu Miao was comforted by his seriousness, glad her quiet matchmaking had not been in vain. “This time, you really need to put your heart into this relationship. It doesn’t have to be long—after marriage, you’ll have plenty of time to nurture feelings. As long as you let go of the past, Zhao Yiling has so many shining qualities—there’s bound to be something that moves you. Just don’t be half-hearted.”

“You sound just like Grandma, always lecturing me the moment we meet.”

Fu Miao shot him a look. “In front of Lin Wanbai, you need to be at ease, understand? I heard lately that Fu Juxing and Lin Wanbai are especially close—practically inseparable?”

Fu Yanchuan thought of their recent visits to Sibei and nodded. “Yes.”

“Wasn’t there a huge fuss before, saying Lin Wanbai had a man outside? I heard someone in the group even sent red packets in celebration. And now things are fine again?”

Fu Yanchuan shook his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t investigated.”

Fu Miao turned, gazing at him for a long time, silent.

He met her eyes and smiled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Checking if you’re normal.”

He clicked his tongue and pushed her away. “Sit properly.”

After a pause, Fu Miao continued, “But Fu Juxing is interesting. How’s his little company doing now? You’d better be careful—Grandma’s right about old ginger being spicier. I don’t think her bias is unfounded. Think about it—Fu Juxing was bullied his whole life; Grandma never smiled at him, anyone at home could step on him—even the dog. I don’t buy that he’s truly gentle and harmless.”

“The fact he married Lin Wanbai and has her so obedient is a skill. And frankly, his origins aren’t that great. If his grandmother could be a mistress, and his mother could cheat for her career, he’s probably not much better.”

Fu Yanchuan said, “That’s a bit of a conspiracy theory. You can’t manipulate love. And as for our elders, it’s not our place to judge—we weren’t involved, so let’s not discuss it too much.”

“Why not? You lost because you didn’t use cunning. Admit it.”

“But you forget—it was Lin Wanbai who insisted on marrying him, not him stealing her.”

Fu Miao raised her brow. “Exactly—that’s what makes him dangerous.”

They looked at each other for a while, then deliberately changed the subject.

When they arrived, Lin Wanbai’s flight had just landed. Zhao Yiling was on the same flight—their seats were close.

Not being well-acquainted, they exchanged a few pleasantries and left it at that.

Yet Lin Wanbai still held out hope for some connection between Lin Zhouye and Zhao Yiling. She genuinely thought Zhao Yiling was suitable in every way, especially her complementary personality.

She’d even mentioned it to Lin Zhaowei, hoping he’d apply some pressure, but it didn’t seem promising.

When they got off the plane, Lin Wanbai made a point of walking with Zhao Yiling.

“Why didn’t Fu Yanchuan come with you?”

“He arrived a day early. I had business, so I came today—we just missed each other.”

Lin Wanbai nodded knowingly. “A real missed connection.”

There was a deeper meaning to her words.

Zhao Yiling glanced at her, smiling.

Fu Juxing walked a few steps behind them, silent, but she looked back at him as well. She’d seen the recent photo of them in bed together—it was enviable.

She quickly looked away and changed the subject. “This is my first time here.”

“Really? Then I must show you around—this is paradise for women.”

Zhao Yiling laughed.

They went through the VIP lane—Fu Yanchuan and Fu Miao’s car was waiting outside.

Soon, the three emerged, and from afar, Lin Wanbai and Zhao Yiling looked to be chatting happily.

Fu Miao immediately felt annoyed. “That woman just loves to compete with me over everything.”

“What are you on about?”

“Nothing.” She snorted, but by the time she approached, her expression had changed.

“Yiling!” she greeted cheerfully. “I guessed you’d be on the same flight—turns out I was right.”

Lin Wanbai said, “Saved you the trouble of two trips. You still have to prepare for tomorrow’s show—no need to waste time back and forth.”

“That’s why you’re so good to me, Xiaobai.”

“No, no, it’s just a bit of sister-in-law care.”

Fu Miao raised a brow, rolling her eyes inwardly. She nearly lost her composure, but just smiled and didn’t retort.

They split into two cars.

Fu Juxing had already arranged for their own car and driver.

It was better that way—less awkwardness.

After Fu Juxing and Lin Wanbai left, Fu Miao took Zhao Yiling’s arm, handed her luggage to Fu Yanchuan, and led her to the car.

“Don’t be fooled by Lin Wanbai’s angelic face—she’s no good girl. Just a spoiled heiress.”

Zhao Yiling had heard about their mutual dislike, but now she just listened silently, not commenting.

Fu Miao didn’t press it. Though she and Lin Wanbai didn’t see eye to eye, she never gossiped behind her back—that was the rule.

She changed the topic. “Since you’re here, stay a few days.”

“I’m afraid not—too much work at school. I only took one day off, have to go back the day after tomorrow.”

Fu Miao didn’t insist. “No helping that. Work matters. We’ll meet up on winter or summer break. After this show, I’m planning to return to develop my career at home—then we’ll have plenty of time.”

As she spoke, Fu Yanchuan got in, sitting up front and giving the driver instructions.

Fu Miao was nearly furious—of all places, he had to sit in front. But she said nothing; making a fuss would be even more awkward, so she let it be.

At the hotel, Fu Miao excused herself and left first.

She’d arranged for Zhao Yiling’s room to be next to Fu Yanchuan’s, for convenience.

He carried her luggage, walking beside her. They chatted easily enough, but more like gentlemen friends than lovers—their interactions were a bit too proper.

At her door, he handed her the room card. Zhao Yiling opened the door and they went in.

Fu Yanchuan put her luggage down, looked around. “See if you like it. If not, you can change rooms.”

“It’s fine, I like it. No need for trouble.”

He nodded, thought for a moment. “You should rest and adjust to the time difference. If you need food or anything, call me.” He pulled a phone from his pocket, handing it over. “It only has my number.”

Zhao Yiling’s smile deepened. “Thank you. That’s thoughtful—I was in such a rush, didn’t have time to change my plan.”

“No problem.”

Then he left.

Just as he was about to return to his room, Fu Miao rushed out from somewhere and punched him in the side, muttering, “Are you two a couple or just friends? You seem even more distant than before.”

“Don’t be rude.” He straightened his clothes, giving her a sidelong glance.

“You’re hopeless. Zhao Yiling is in high demand—if you don’t act, Grandma Zhao won’t let her near you. She’s got a lot of pride, you know?”

Fu Yanchuan frowned. “So you expect me to sleep with her right now? Is that respect? I know what Grandma Zhao is like; this has to be slow, not rushed. Mind your own business and stay out of mine—I know what I’m doing. But you—your recent odd behavior, have you done something?”

“Done what? I’m just standing in for Grandma, making sure you don’t slack off. The board still doesn’t fully trust you—because you’re not married. Marry a capable woman, and your position is secure. Grandma’s thinking of you—don’t lose sight of that. The Fu family heir—do you want to hand it to someone else? If you don’t want it, plenty of people are eyeing it. Besides Fu Juxing, even Fu Yanming and Fu Yanzheng are watching. Keep it in mind…”

Just then, the door to the next room opened.

Lin Zhouye stepped out, and their conversation abruptly ended.