Chapter 5: Embarrassment

Aunt Su chuckled at Lin Qinghe’s obliviousness. “Yes, this is Mr. Cen’s home. It’s not safe for you to live alone; even if you hired someone to take care of you, there would be inconveniences. Mr. Cen probably considered that.”

There was another reason, too. Cen Han had long navigated the world of fame and fortune, and his mind was meticulous. As the head of the company, he had to think of the long-term consequences of things others might or might not consider.

When a person was in a completely unfamiliar environment, no matter how strong their psychological endurance, it was inevitable that they would develop a different feeling toward the person they met for the first time compared to others. It was like a bonding effect.

If that feeling was strong enough, it might even turn into dependence or a habit.

Lin Qinghe knew nothing; he was like a blank slate. Anyone could deceive him with lies. To avoid unnecessary trouble, living in the villa was the best approach.

After all, Cen Han didn’t like things slipping out of his control.

Su Rong pushed open the door to the room, feeling a sense of pleasure in it. “The dresser and mirror are over there. There’s a lounge chair and a small table by the floor-to-ceiling window. I guessed you’d like elegant, muted colors, so the furniture here is light and plain.”

“The bathroom is over here, with a showerhead and bathtub. Red is for hot water, blue for cold. It’s a bit late today. If you want to take a bath later, you can tell the housekeeper first. The closet has casual and formal wear. You can try them on to see if they fit.”

Su Rong led Lin Qinghe into the walk-in closet. Inside, various items were neatly arranged: clothes, watches, ties…

“If you need anything in the future, feel free to tell me,” Su Rong said. “Cen Han is usually busy and isn’t home much during the day, so most of the time it’ll just be the two of us.”

“Mm, I understand.” Lin Qinghe’s gaze swept around the room. “Does Mr. Cen not live with his family?”

“No. After Cen Han took over the Cen Residence, he moved out and lived alone. His parents transferred their work overseas a few years ago, to a place far from Western Capital.” Su Rong finished speaking and pointed to the row of clothes. “We might need to clear out some space later. If you join Starlight Entertainment, your attire will need to be more refined.”

Probably knowing it was Lin Qinghe’s first time hearing about Starlight Entertainment, Su Rong slowly explained, “That’s where you’ll be working in the future.”

Lin Qinghe actually had many questions—like what kind of place it was, what his job would be, and how he should handle it. But since it was getting late, he figured he’d learn more when the time was right.

“Get some rest early. The villa is quite spacious. Tomorrow, I’ll show you around so you can get familiar with it.”

“Alright, Aunt Su.”

Alone in the room, Lin Qinghe wandered aimlessly past the furniture, a hint of novelty in his expression. To him, everything here was both unfamiliar and captivating.

The flower arrangements and scented candles were exquisitely beautiful. The crystal chandelier sparkled. Landscape oil paintings hung on the walls. The large bed was warm and tidy, and the throw pillows looked incredibly soft.

Lin Qinghe reached out a tentative hand to touch them. The feel was as expected; lying on them would probably be very comfortable.

Back in Tranquil City, he would bathe before sleeping. Yesterday, he’d fallen into the water. Although his clothes had been changed, he still felt a bit sticky all over.

Lin Qinghe’s overall impression of the villa was one of luxury and spaciousness, and the bathroom was no exception. The tiles were shiny and clean. A set of clothes was laid out on the counter. Near the bay window was a white, oval bathtub surrounded by green plants, with a rainfall showerhead two meters away.

Following Aunt Su’s instructions, he stood there quietly studying the structure of the showerhead switch. He could only say that Aunt Su had truly overestimated his ability to adapt. Indeed, talking about it on paper was useless.

After a moment of thought, he decided to just try it out.

Red meant hot water, blue meant cold. For bathing, he needed hot water…

He didn’t know exactly what he touched, but suddenly—

“Psssssssss…”

A large stream of water sprayed down from above, blurring his vision. Everything in front of him became misty.

Lin Qinghe was startled. He fumbled around in panic, trying to stop it, but in his hurry, he couldn’t find the switch. Instead, the water flow only got stronger, splattering onto the floor with a steady drumming sound.

He stepped back, at a loss. For a moment, he had no idea what to do.

Wh-what now?

Had he broken it?

He was already penniless. If he broke something, he’d be buried in debt.

The word “poor” hung over his head like a dark cloud, making his heart ache. Lin Qinghe immediately made the choice to go bother Aunt Su.

He finally made it to the hall. Even with his years of good sense of direction, navigating the villa felt like a true test—he was thinking, “Who am I? Where is this?”

There weren’t many rooms on the first floor, so Aunt Su probably didn’t live there. Maybe she was on the second or third floor.

Lin Qinghe felt his luck had never been this bad. The moment he reached the second floor, he came face to face with Cen Han. He pretended not to see him and immediately turned to leave, very conscious of not bothering the villa’s owner.

“What are you running from?”

Cen Han was holding a water glass. His peripheral vision caught Lin Qinghe’s figure, and he leaned casually against the side of the table, asking nonchalantly.

Lin Qinghe froze. Damn, he’d been caught.

“Lin Qinghe?” Cen Han’s tone rose at the end.

Lin Qinghe had no choice but to turn back. In the shadows, his brows and eyes were like jade, his lips moistened with water, and his soaked black hair had formed a few strands. Droplets of water were even dripping from the ends of his hair.

Seeing him in such a disheveled state, Cen Han set down his glass and chuckled. “You’ve managed to get yourself into such a mess in just a little while. You really do surprise me.”

Lin Qinghe pursed his lips, expression a bit sour. After a few seconds, he spoke. “I think I broke something.”

Cen Han asked, not very invested, “What thing?”

“The bathroom.” His limited vocabulary didn’t allow Lin Qinghe to clearly say the word “showerhead.” He summarized succinctly: “The switch. The water won’t stop.”

Cen Han understood. “No wonder you were avoiding me.”

This remark ripped away the last shred of pretense. Lin Qinghe decided to just throw caution to the wind. “What should I do?”

Cen Han was wearing a dark green bathrobe that accentuated his tall stature. He slowly walked toward Lin Qinghe and dropped a few words: “Follow me.”

Lin Qinghe vaguely caught a whiff of a fresh scent, probably the smell after a bath.

He followed behind Cen Han, his mind racing. He had already gone from how to explain this accident to how to clear himself of suspicion.

As soon as they entered the room, Cen Han heard the sound of rushing water. The showerhead in the bathroom had been turned on to the max, and water was flowing nonstop into the drain.

He reached up and pressed the switch down, effortlessly stopping what Lin Qinghe considered a disaster.

Lin Qinghe was a bit baffled. That was it?

As if reading his mind, Cen Han looked at him. “That’s it.”

The atmosphere was a little awkward.

At least it wasn’t broken, Lin Qinghe thought silently. No need to pay compensation.

“Remember, pulling outward turns it on. Move left for hot water, right for cold. To turn it off, press down.” Cen Han was a head taller than Lin Qinghe. He tilted his head slightly. “Try it.”

Under the man’s supervision, Lin Qinghe operated the showerhead. Maybe because he felt a sense of security this time, he wasn’t so flustered. He successfully learned how to use it.

“I’ve got it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Cen Han walked out of the bathroom. “Instead of ‘many thanks,’ around here, people usually say ‘thank you.'”

“Mm.” Lin Qinghe changed his wording. “Thank you, Mr. Cen. Could I make a request?”

Cen Han gave him a look that said, “Go ahead.”

“I’m not quite used to the clothes here. If possible, I’d like to change into something looser.”

Lin Qinghe’s tone was steady, but a trace of genuine hope could be heard within it.

Cen Han’s gaze fell on Lin Qinghe. In the shadows earlier, he couldn’t see clearly. Now, under the bright light of the bathroom, the young man’s soaked white shirt and the vague, indistinct waistline beneath it were fully exposed—slim and full of suggestive hints.

It was an ill-timed reminder of the delicate sensation his fingertips had touched while changing clothes at the hospital.

Lin Qinghe was more refined than most people Cen Han had met. He was perfect in every way, as if Nüwa had exhausted her thoughts and gone through many trials to create him.

Cen Han shifted his gaze imperceptibly, then parted his lips. “Mm, as you wish.”

Although Cen Han had a kind of unapproachable distance about him, he was actually quite easy to talk to. That was Lin Qinghe’s assessment.

“It’s getting late. Mr. Cen, please retire early.”

Cen Han furrowed his brow slightly, but he couldn’t be bothered to correct the young man’s anachronistic phrasing. “Get some rest.”

After that, Lin Qinghe fumbled his way through a bath. Following the mental image of how Cen Han had worn his pajamas, he tried to imitate it, fiddling around for a long time before he managed to put them on.

He tied the sash, lay back on the bed, and gazed absently at the dazzling chandelier.

He used to spend time reflecting on everything that happened each day—whether it was matters of the court or the affairs of the common people. Now, without that burden, he felt a bit empty instead.

In the end, Lin Qinghe fell asleep. The environment was probably too comfortable for him to resist the drowsiness.

.

Morning. The weather was clear.

A large swath of sunlight eagerly streamed through the wide, bright floor-to-ceiling windows into the room, dyeing the curtains hanging from the ceiling a layer of bright yellow.

Outside, everything was lush and green. White daisies clustered together on the lawn. New leaves were a vivid green. Halos of light were imprinted on the pale grass.

Tree shadows swayed in the breeze—a spring wind as sharp as scissors.

Lin Qinghe parted the curtains and quietly basked in the warmth of the sun for a while.

In a corner of the hall, Aunt Su set out the dishes. Usually, Cen Han’s breakfast was simple; there was no need to prepare anything too elaborate.

But from today, things were a bit different. With Lin Qinghe now in the house, she should take good care of this young man from another place.

Su Rong turned her head and saw the young man not far away. She waved at him. “Good morning. Do you like century egg and lean meat congee? I made steamed dumplings and shumai. There are other things too. Since I don’t know your taste, I prepared a bit of everything.”

Su Rong’s cooking skills were excellent. Even just the appearance of the food on the plate was very appealing.

In the past, Liu Fuxuan had also liked to make pastries for Lin Qinghe in different ways. Although he rarely felt the affection of Lin Feng, what Liu Fuxuan gave him was enough to make him happy and satisfied.

Lin Qinghe’s fondness for Aunt Su increased a bit more.

It was polite to wait for the host to eat together. He asked, “Aunt Su, is there anything you need help with?”

“No, I’m fine.” There was also a glass of milk in the kitchen. Su Rong smiled and said, “I’m better at these things. Go ahead and sit down for breakfast.”

Lin Qinghe found a seat and sat down, but he didn’t pick up his chopsticks.

Before long, he heard movement from the stairs.

Cen Han came down the red wooden staircase while rolling up his sleeves. His fingers were distinct and well-proportioned, and he wore an expensive men’s watch on his wrist.

Sensing the figure at the dining table, he lifted his eyes and saw Lin Qinghe sitting there, his posture proper.

“In the future, you don’t have to wait for me.”

Lin Qinghe nodded to indicate he understood.

Cen Han’s style of dealing with things was never to waste words.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, with only the occasional clink of dishes.

Near the end of the meal, Cen Han received a call from a collaborator. He spoke slowly with the person on the other end. Every move Lin Qinghe made was clearly etched in his sight—such an elegant, scholarly air.

A few minutes after the call ended, Assistant Zhang Hua appeared at the hall entrance.

The Zheng Yao who had been hit had woken up. Cen Han had temporarily changed his itinerary and was going to Yulin Hospital first.

Zhang Hua nodded at Lin Qinghe. “Mr. Lin, we’ll be off now.”

Lin Qinghe put down his porcelain bowl. “Okay, Assistant Zhang.”

“A basic courtesy when saying goodbye is to actually say goodbye.” Cen Han’s tone was somewhere between a reminder and a notification—not an order, and not making anyone feel even slightly uncomfortable.

Lin Qinghe smiled faintly. “Mr. Cen, goodbye.”