Ella groggily blinked awake, her body still heavy with exhaustion. She turned to the nightstand, eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the curtains. The clock read just a little before dinnertime—Mrs. Li had told her earlier to come down to the dining room for dinner.
For a moment, she just lay there, staring at the ceiling.
She had barely been in this house for a few hours, but it already felt… strange. Not necessarily in a bad way, but not exactly comfortable either. It was too big. Too quiet. Too isolated.
And then there was Yichen.
His cold, judging eyes. The way he had glared at her every time she so much as breathed wrong. Like he was waiting for her to slip up, to do something that proved whatever assumptions he had about her.
She scoffed to herself, rubbing her temples.
Whatever. Let him glare. I'm not here to impress him.
Ella sat up, stretching. She could still hear Mrs. Li's kind voice in her head, the warmth in her tone when she'd introduced herself. Unlike Yichen, Mrs. Li had been nothing but sweet—so much so that it had made Ella emotional.
Her own mother would never be that nice to her. Not even if she were on her deathbed.
That thought made her chest tighten, and before she knew it, her eyes were stinging again.
She exhaled sharply. No. I am not crying again.
She shook off the thoughts, ran a hand through her hair, and swung her legs off the bed. If nothing else, she was starving. And there was no way she was going to let Yichen think she was some weak, fragile thing sulking in her room.
Time to eat.
Squaring her shoulders, Ella stood up and made her way to the dining room.
As Ella reached for the door handle, she paused.
She glanced down at herself—oversized blue T-shirt, jeans. Uncomfortable, wrinkled from sleep. Not exactly dinner-appropriate.
With a sigh, she turned back and headed for the bathroom.
The warm water helped clear her mind, washing away some of the exhaustion clinging to her bones. But as she stepped out and toweled off, her eyes landed on the lilac lingerie hanging neatly in her suitcase.
Her fingers hesitated over the fabric.
She had bought this for her honeymoon. Back when she still had foolish hopes about Gu Xiaoyan, about their future, about love. And yet, the honeymoon had come and gone without him ever laying eyes on it. He hadn't even been there.
Her chest tightened.
She should throw it away. Burn it, even.
But then a different thought surfaced—why should she let him ruin this for her? This was her favorite color, her choice. Why should she associate it with that bastard?
Determined, she slipped into the lingerie. It wasn't anything scandalous—just a silk slip with thin straps, modest yet elegant. She layered a light robe over it, tying it loosely at the waist before heading downstairs.
By the time she reached the dining room, her stomach was growling.
But the moment she stepped inside, she regretted coming at all.
There, sitting at the long, beautifully set table, was none other than Liang Yichen.
Of course, it had to be him.
He was eating with the same cold elegance he carried everywhere, his every movement precise, like he was some untouchable king. And for some reason, that annoyed Ella more than anything.
Why did everything about him have to be so perfect? Was he some kind of royalty?
She didn't acknowledge him as she sat down, grabbing her utensils without a word. But as she started eating, she noticed something—most of the dishes were tailored for pregnant women.
Her grip on her fork loosened.
Mrs. Li must have noticed… or maybe someone had told her.
Either way, it was a small act of kindness. And for that, Ella was grateful.
Still, she refused to let that soften her irritation toward Yichen.
Not when he looked so infuriatingly unbothered by her presence.
Liang Yichen's chopsticks paused mid-air. His sharp gaze lifted from his plate, landing on Ella with cool detachment.
"You look like you're about to explode," he observed in his usual bored, deep tone. "Did you come from the Blowfish lineage?"
Ella scoffed, rolling her eyes. Blowfish? Seriously? So the robot knows humor.
"Oh, Blowfish? Well, I'm just afraid that if I say what's on my mind, I might become homeless again."
Yichen set his chopsticks down, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin as if this conversation was as mundane as the food in front of him.
"It's good that you know your place," he said evenly. "But it's also good that you let out whatever is making you look like you truly belong to the Blowfish lineage."
Ella narrowed her eyes. Oh, so now he's inviting me to talk?
"Well then," she leaned forward, her lips curling into a sweet but obviously fake smile. "I'm sorry, Mr. Full of Yourself, that you're too afraid to show up in public as a CEO."
The room fell silent for a beat.
Yichen stared at her, unamused. "Afraid?" he echoed, as if the word itself was beneath him.
"Yeah," Ella shrugged. "I mean, you're some business overlord or whatever, yet no one ever sees you. What, are you scared of the paparazzi? Or do you just enjoy playing the mysterious phantom boss?"
Yichen exhaled, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he leaned back in his chair, studying her as if she were a particularly unremarkable painting someone had forced him to look at.
"If staying out of the public eye keeps my company at the top," he said coolly, "then why should I waste my time with pointless appearances?"
Ella crossed her arms. "Oh, right. Because making an effort to be human is so unnecessary."
A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of Yichen's lips. "Exactly."
Ella sighed, deciding it was best not to engage further in their petty back-and-forth. She grabbed her glass of water and took a slow sip before tilting her head at Yichen.
"Hey, Mr. King Wannabe," she drawled.
Yichen didn't even glance up, still focused on his food.
Ella smirked. "Or should I say—Your Majesty?" Her voice dripped with sass and sarcasm as she gave him an exaggerated mock bow.
Yichen finally looked at her, expression blank but eyes slightly narrowed. "If you're done with your performance, say whatever you need to say."
Ella leaned forward, resting her elbow on the table. "Alright, let's talk business."
Yichen raised a brow. "Business?"
"Yeah," Ella said. "I want to work at K-Tech."
For a moment, there was silence. Then Yichen picked up his phone and scrolled through it as if she had just suggested the most ridiculous thing in the world.
"So you were actually serious about wanting to work at my company," he said dryly. "And what if we make a loss? I don't trust you."
Ella groaned, rubbing her eyes. "Of course, of course," she muttered. "You might be cold, but it's so obvious you're just a child deep down."
Yichen ignored her jab, still looking unimpressed. "And what exactly do you think you can contribute?"
Ella didn't miss a beat. "I can help you make K-Tech the top company in all of China—not just Jinyang."
That got his attention. His phone lowered slightly as he finally looked at her properly, amusement flickering in his usually cold gaze. "Oh? And how exactly do you plan to do that?"
Ella smirked. "What if I told you there's a perfect, all-kill investor that could push K-Tech beyond just China—maybe even the whole of Asia?"
Yichen's fingers tapped lightly against the table, a rare sign of intrigue. "Go on."