Chapter 14: What You're Doing Is Setting Me Ablaze

Ten minutes ago.

The study in the Fu family’s old mansion.

Old Mr. Fu, wearing his reading glasses, held a few freshly developed photographs in his wrinkled hands, his face blossoming with delight. The photos depicted the scene from the night before at the hotel entrance—Fu Yancheng escorting Qiao Xi into the banquet hall.

The old man slapped his thigh, grinning from ear to ear.

"This boy has finally done something to put my mind at ease!"

The more he looked, the more satisfied he felt. He immediately picked up the landline on the desk.

The call was quickly answered.

"You brat!" Old Mr. Fu’s voice was robust and booming. "This weekend, clear your schedule! Bring her home for dinner at the old house—you must bring her! Do you hear me?"

On the other end, Fu Yancheng seemed a little surprised but quickly caught on to whom his grandfather was referring. Instinctively, he glanced at Qiao Xi, who sat beside him.

Bring her home?

Fu Yancheng held his phone, falling silent for a few seconds. “Grandpa, this weekend…”

“What about this weekend?!” Old Mr. Fu’s voice rose sharply, cutting him off. “I don’t care what earth-shattering thing you have to do—you must bring her back! It’s settled.”

“If you dare come back without her, I’ll break your legs!”

Fu Yancheng pinched the bridge of his nose in helplessness. He knew his grandfather’s temper—once his mind was made up, nothing could change it.

He took a deep breath and relented. “…Understood, Grandpa. I’ll bring her home this weekend.”

He hung up.

Setting down his phone, Fu Yancheng turned to Qiao Xi.

She looked up. “What’s wrong? Who was it?”

“Nothing—my grandfather,” Fu Yancheng replied. “Come on, let’s head back to the office.”

—

The Fu Corporation Tower.

Qiao Xi, her cheeks tinged with a blush, hurried back to the R&D department, while Fu Yancheng stepped out of the president’s private elevator.

The notoriously aloof and unapproachable President Fu now wore a rare, gentle smile at the corners of his lips, his eyes alight with mirth.

All the employees stared, dumbfounded, at this unbelievable sight. That look—no matter how you saw it—spoke of a man in the flush of spring.

Passing the secretarial department, Fu Yancheng even did the unthinkable—he nodded in acknowledgment to the assistant who greeted him.

“!!!”

The assistant was instantly petrified, thinking she must be seeing things.

Clearly, the president was in an extraordinarily good mood today!

News spread like wildfire across the floor.

Everyone was stunned.

What had happened to President Fu today? Had he won the lottery, or signed a contract worth billions?

President’s Office.

Fu Yancheng had just sat down when Zhou Ze knocked and entered.

“President Fu.”

Fu Yancheng looked up, the rare trace of joy not yet faded from his face. Leaning back slightly, he rested against the broad back of his chair.

“Zhou Ze.”

“Yes, sir.”

Fu Yancheng’s gaze swept to a nondescript folder at the corner of his desk—it held the address and keys to Qiao Xi’s previous rented apartment.

He pondered for a moment, his voice regaining its usual composure.

“Go to Madam’s former residence,” Fu Yancheng instructed. “Pack all her belongings and move them to my villa. Get it done before tonight.”

Zhou Ze’s eyes flickered, immediately understanding his boss’s intentions. He showed no surprise, only bowed respectfully. “Yes, President Fu. I’ll take care of it right away.”

He paused, then added with a smile in his voice, “Shall I inform Madam Qiao… the lady?”

Fu Yancheng waved him off. “No need. Let’s give her a surprise.”

His mood improved even more.

“Yes, sir.”

Zhou Ze took the hint, said no more, and swiftly left the office.

—

As the end of the workday approached, Qiao Xi had just finished sorting through some files when her phone rang.

“Xi Xi.”

Fu Yancheng’s deep voice sounded in her ear. “After work, wait for me downstairs.”

“No refusing,” he interrupted her, his tone a gentle yet commanding blend. “I have plans.”

Outside Fu Corporation.

Fu Yancheng’s car was already waiting at the entrance.

“Where are we going?” Qiao Xi asked nervously as she climbed in.

“Dinner,” he replied succinctly, a mysterious smile playing at his lips.

The car stopped at an incredibly private and romantic rooftop restaurant.

Candlelight flickered on the table, while a violinist played soothing classical music in the corner.

Everything had been meticulously arranged by Zhou Ze.

Exquisite dishes were served, along with a decanted bottle of red wine.

“A little celebration,” Fu Yancheng said as he poured her a glass, his deep eyes notably gentle in the candlelight.

“Celebrating what?” Qiao Xi’s heart raced.

“Celebrating…” Fu Yancheng raised his glass, his gaze burning as it rested on her. “Mrs. Fu’s official inauguration.”

Qiao Xi’s cheeks flushed crimson as she clinked glasses with him.

—

Perhaps it was the enchanting atmosphere, but Qiao Xi found herself unwittingly drinking several glasses.

As the wine took hold, her fair cheeks flushed a beguiling red, and her eyes grew misty and luminous.

She was no longer as reserved as usual, her courage swelling with the wine.

“Fu Yancheng…” Qiao Xi called his name softly, her voice tinged with drunken coquettishness. She leaned toward him, closing the distance. “Why are you… so good-looking…”

She reached out and gently poked the back of his hand where it rested on the table.

Fu Yancheng’s gaze darkened instantly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

He caught her mischievous finger, his voice husky. “Are you drunk?”

“Not at all…” Qiao Xi mumbled, though her body swayed uncontrollably, nearly falling over.

Fu Yancheng reacted swiftly, his long arm encircling her and pulling her into his embrace.

“Mm…”

Qiao Xi nestled contentedly against his strong chest like a kitten finding its home, nuzzling him in satisfaction. “Fu Yancheng, you smell so nice…”

She looked up, her drunken gaze meeting his handsome face at such close range, long lashes fluttering with unintentional allure.

“Do you know,” Fu Yancheng’s voice was low and suppressed, “that the way you’re rubbing against me is like lighting a fire?”

“Hold me…”

She threw her arms softly around his neck, all but hanging on him.

Fu Yancheng’s body tensed sharply.

With her warm, yielding form in his arms, her unconscious dependence and affection acted like the strongest wine, igniting his long-suppressed desire in an instant.

He held her tighter, as if to press her into his very bones.

Lowering his head, he captured her slightly parted lips in a fierce kiss.

“Mm…”

Qiao Xi melted under his kiss.

His kisses grew deeper, more urgent.

“Xi Xi, your taste… is more intoxicating than the wine,” he murmured against her lips, his breath feverish.

His scorching palm slid to her slender waist, the touch like adding fuel to the fire.

He swept her into his arms.

“Ah!”

Qiao Xi gasped, instinctively clutching his neck.

Holding her tightly, Fu Yancheng strode toward the penthouse suite reserved in advance.

Kicking the door open, he gently laid her on the soft, wide bed.

His tall frame pressed down over hers.

He kissed her again, more deeply, more desperately.

One arm propped beside her, his other hand traced up her waistline, seeking the zipper at the back of her dress…