Chapter 55: Is There Tea in the House?

Translator: Atlas Studios  Editor: Atlas Studios

Fu Huai’an tone was amicable yet Lin Nuan felt that it carried an air of authority.

When a man is used to being in power, his authority and strong presence would naturally be shown through his words and actions.

Lin Nuan stood next to the black Bentley. Her legs could still vaguely feel the heat coming from the car.

She guessed that Fu Huai’an must have arrived earlier and taken the elevator up to see her, while she was coincidentally taking the other elevator down.

She didn’t have the courage to ask him to come down again when she was downstairs. She had troubled him to come all the way here because she took the wrong identity document. How could she burden him to run upstairs and down for her?

Lin Nuan held the identity document in her hands and tucked her messy windswept strands of hair behind her ear. As she walked inside, she said, “I’m coming right up…”

…

As Lin Nuan came out of the elevator, she saw Fu Huai’an in his suit, standing against the backlight of the two elevators. He was smoking in front of the trash bin with an ashtray on top of it.

He kept one hand in his pocket while his cigar-wielding hand was checking his email on his phone. He had a look of concentration on his face.

As their eyes met, Fu Huai’an’s tall and slender figure gave off an imposing vibe.

They weren’t too far apart. Lin Nuan could vaguely detect the scent of alcohol on Fu Huai’an’s body.

Lin Nuan had stood next to the car for a while and she knew there wasn’t a driver in it. She recalled the faint noise she heard on the other end of the line in their call and guessed he must have been out drinking with colleagues.

He put out his cigar in the ashtray on top of the trash bin. Judging by the identity documents she was holding in her hands, he knew that she’d left early and gone downstairs to wait for him.

“Is there tea in the house?” Fu Huai’an asked in a deep, resonating voice with a hint of cordiality.

Fu Huai’an drove over despite having consumed alcohol; it wouldn’t be polite for Lin Nuan to deny him a simple cup of tea.

She nodded and led Fu Huai’an through the doorway.

With the furry carpet on the floor of her living room, she decided to get a pair of slippers from the shoe shelf for Fu Huai’an to change into. She bent down to search for one and realized she’d never had male guests come over, thus the slippers’ sizes were way too small. She mulled over the problem and put them back on the shelf.

Seeing that Fu Huai’an was still standing by the door, she said to him, “I don’t have any suitable slippers for you here, just come in…”

Fu Huai’an nodded and strolled into the living room with a calm expression.

Lin Nuan went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea for Fu Huai’an. The Wu Yi Mountain Red Cloak Tea that Liang Mulan brought last time came into good use.

Fu Huai’an took a look at the small table and realized the photo of Lin Nuan hugging that big chubby cat was gone.

He then glanced towards Lin Nuan in the kitchen boiling a kettle of water and looking for the tea. She was wearing a light blue hoodie and jeans, her sleeves rolled up as she stood on her toes, struggling to reach the box of tea on top of the shelf.

“Let me help you.”

Fu Huai’an’s voice traveled over her head. Her whole body froze. She felt that warm wall behind her and her heart couldn’t help beating faster.

She looked up and watched as his muscular hands retrieved the tea box. As he turned, the fringe on her forehead unintentionally brushed over his chin. She unconsciously took a step back, her bottom pressed up against the countertop.

Fu Huai’an’s large hands immediately grasped her by her back to prevent the back of her head colliding into the shelves above.

Every single time she was alone with Fu Huai’an, Lin Nuan had nowhere to hide her awkwardness.

The kitchen wasn’t that big to begin with, so Fu Huai’an’s presence only made it appear even more crowded.

At that moment, their bodies were glued together in an ambiguous position. Lin Nuan’s heart began to race as if it was going to jump out of her chest.

His masculine, alcohol-tinged breath lingered over her forehead and made it tingle.

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