"Don't You Hate Me?"
Chu Fei turned around and shrugged. Of course it was good to stay; otherwise, he had no idea how to face Xie Qin. Getting kicked out on the very first day would've been downright embarrassing.
"I'm not hating you—I'm disgusted by you!"
Duan Lin shot Chu Fei a glare. "But anything I've promised, I complete—no matter what. Unless I'm dead. Since I gave Xie Qin my word you'd stick to her like glue for these fifteen days, I won't break it."
"Tsk... y'know, I'm suddenly kinda liking you."
Chu Fei let out a heartfelt sigh of admiration. "I just dig straightforward people like that! If you've got something to say, spit it out. What was with this afternoon, messing with me on purpose like that?"
"..."
This time, Duan Lin ignored his teasing. She turned and strode off. "Come with me. Grab your bag—you're staying here tonight."
"Huh? Didn't you just say I couldn't live in the villa?" Chu Fei blinked in surprise.
"I've changed my mind."
Duan Lin paused for the briefest moment, but her face stayed stone-cold. "Don't you know us little women are awfully fickle?"
Little... woman?
Fine, I get it—you're taking a swing at that 'old woman' crack from before.
Chu Fei didn't bite back. Instead, he flipped off the pack of female security guards outside with a crude middle finger—shaking it for extra emphasis—before slinging his backpack over his shoulder and jogging after her.
Duan Lin settled him in a room on the villa's third floor. Like the second floor, it opened onto a sprawling outdoor balcony. But while the second was bursting with flowers, this one was stark and simple: an entire swimming pool, edge to edge, no space wasted. Every room on the floor hugged the pool's rim. Slide open the massive glass doors, and one step plunged you right in. Even now, as evening deepened, the water's gentle ripples threw shimmering patterns across the room.
The decor stayed minimalist—raw wood furniture—but the king-sized bed smack in the center? Pure luxury, plush as sin. Chu Fei counted seven, maybe eight pillows scattered across it...
Okay, most were just decorative throws, but one look at those fluffy bastards screamed comfort.
He launched himself onto it in a heartbeat. "Whoa—so damn comfy!"
"Sleepwear's in the closet. Women's style, but you can probably squeeze into it."
Duan Lin was already turning to go. "It's six on the dot. Dinner in twenty. Shower fast if you don't wanna be late."
"..."
Duan Lin's idea of "wearable" meant a closet crammed with bathrobes of every cut...
They bared a slice of calf, sure, but Chu Fei didn't sweat it. The fabric was top-shelf—clearly custom for pampered socialites—silky and effortless. A guy in women's bathrobes looked ridiculous, yeah, but with the villa empty otherwise? Who cared.
Down on the first-floor dining room, Duan Lin was already seated when Chu Fei arrived—freshly showered herself, bathrobe draped loose, hair damp and tousled. The table gleamed with exquisite dishes, aromas curling up like temptation. Chu Fei's appetite had dwindled to near-godly irrelevance these days, but damn if the colors, scents, and textures didn't stir a craving. He grabbed chopsticks and dove in—only to realize every last one was...
Vegetarian!!!
Fine. Not a speck of meat anywhere.
His hunger tanked. A few more perfunctory bites, and he set the sticks down. Duan Lin, across from him, paid zero mind—chewing with grim focus, like a soldier on rations. She sampled every dish, balancing her intake with precision nutrition.
In health cultivation—Yang-sheng—she was a master, downright meticulous with herself.
Their guest-treatment styles? Night and day. Chu Fei's was surgical: quick fixes, symptoms slashed away, root untouched. Duan Lin's therapy nourished from the source, curing for good—superior long-term.
But his Beauty Massage hit instantly, devouring kilos of fat per session. No way she matched that...
And his black-and-white energies? Prime for health cultivation too—he'd test it soon.
After this private matchup, Chu Fei figured he'd outpace her eventually. Hell, he almost pitied her: this age, still grinding solo, no solid man to lean on!
But his concern for Duan Lin? Zero saintly pity. Purely because that natural white tiger treasure—prime, flawless—going to waste? Criminal.