What to do if I've locked myself in a book! - Chapter 8

“Okay.”

The moment his words fell, the strange weather stopped just like before. In an instant, not only did the hail cease, but the moon—once hidden—reappeared.

But the cracks in the ground and the scorched tree were still there.

“Hah…”

She let out a long breath of relief. Cheng Ye, however, had no idea what was going on.

Everyone was focused on the bizarre change in the weather, Cheng Ye included. “The weather really changes on a whim.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely strange. Oh, I haven’t introduced myself yet. My name is Ling Qianqian.”

Ling Qianqian.

He knew that name. He didn’t know where he’d heard it before, but he couldn’t remember. No wonder she looked familiar—maybe he’d seen her somewhere. But where did this strong sense of closeness come from?

If he felt this way, there was no way he’d forget her name entirely.

“How do you know my name?” he asked.

“You’re the Cheng family’s eldest son. I’ve seen you in the media plenty of times.”

He frowned, half believing her. The woman suddenly became blunt. “So, can we go now? You already agreed.”

Her tone turned a bit urgent, as if she was afraid the hail might start again, or the quake might worsen, or some new disaster might fall from the sky.

“Alright.”

A promise once made couldn’t be taken back. Cheng Ye had come to the banquet quietly, planning to leave quickly. He hadn’t brought his assistant or driver, so he drove himself.

“That’s okay, right?” Ling Qianqian added, realizing her request had been abrupt and hadn’t considered his personal situation.

“I live alone.”

“Oh…”

She rode with him in his black convertible. After about ten minutes, they arrived at his place.

He lived in a high-end villa complex. The night was quiet. After getting out of the car, she followed his tall figure past neatly trimmed shrubs, around a fountain, and stopped before a villa with deep red brick walls.

The design was just as flashy and unoriginal as the banquet villas, but compared to a tiny studio apartment, this place felt like a palace.

Inside, the decor was modern, in warm gray tones—very comfortable.

Her feet hurt. She’d walked barefoot for so long that they were dusty and dirty.

“It’s fine to come in barefoot. The floor heating warms itself; it’s not cold.”

“That’s not it. I’m worried about dirtying your floor.”

“Wait here.”

He stepped inside first, then came back with a hot towel and handed it to her. “Wipe them.”

“Thanks.”

She took it gratefully and carefully cleaned her feet. What she really wanted was a hot shower—her whole body felt uncomfortable—but that was hard to ask.

The house was warm, with a circulating heating system that didn’t even need air conditioning.

After she sat down on the sofa, hugging her arms and shivering, Cheng Ye brought her a cup of hot cocoa about five minutes later. “Drink this to warm up.”

Seeing the steaming, fragrant cocoa, her eyes filled with emotion.

How did this man know she liked hot cocoa?

“Thank you. Sorry for the trouble.”

After a few sips, she felt more energized and calmer.

He sat in the single chair across from her, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand. “Alright. Talk. What’s going on?”

“Uh… this…”

She was suddenly at a loss for words. She’d made up an excuse just to get him to agree, and now that she had to keep the lie going, it was awkward.

Just then, another floating prompt appeared before her eyes: 【Sleep with him.】

“What the hell?!”

She blurted it out without thinking, startling Cheng Ye. From the moment he’d met her, she’d been acting strange. If not for that lingering, inexplicable sense of familiarity, he couldn’t imagine bringing her into his home.

“Who are you talking to?”