Chapter 20: A "Friend's" Grievance

(Page 1 of 3)

The direct confrontation regarding the "landlord" and his true identity was ultimately deflected by Zhao Chen, dissolved into the afternoon sunlight and the sweet aroma of scones.

Faced with Yu Ling’s unprecedented seriousness and scrutiny, Zhao Chen only paused for a brief moment. Immediately, his amber eyes rippled with a deeper smile—like a lake disturbed by a pebble, the ripples gentle yet bottomless. He set down his delicate bone-china teaspoon, leaned forward slightly, and met Yu Ling’s gaze across the sun-drenched dining table with calm composure.

"The landlord..." He drew out the tail of the word, his tone carrying a touch of well-measured helplessness and a hint of... nostalgia?

"He is a very interesting old gentleman. He started out in international trade in his younger years, with a sharp eye for business, and accumulated quite a fortune. Later, as he grew older, he grew tired of the hustle and bustle, so he moved to a small town in Northern Europe to retire. Rumor has it he spends his days fishing and soaking up the sun, living a life more carefree than a hermit."

He picked up his teacup and took a sip, his posture relaxed and natural, as if he were recounting an anecdote about an old family friend.

"This apartment is one of the properties he acquired in the country back in the day. It’s in a prime location, and he spared no expense on the renovation, but it would just be sitting empty anyway. As for me, I met him through a twist of fate. You could say we are... friends across generations?"

Zhao Chen smiled, a clean and refreshing expression that held a trace of that cleverness typical of a young man. "When the old gentleman heard I was looking for a place to stay—and that my family was driving me crazy with marriage pressure—he waved his hand and said, 'Just live in that little apartment. Pay whatever rent you feel like, just consider it a favor to keep an eye on the place for me.'

"So you see," he gestured with his hands, his expression incredibly sincere, "he’s really not some big shot. He’s just a sentimental, pleasure-seeking, and slightly whimsical old man. As for the security upgrades and the neighborly airs... I suppose even though he isn't in the country, his connections and influence remain? He’s probably just worried about his precious property."

His explanation was logical, filled with vivid details, and even included personal touches like "friends across generations" and "whimsical," painting a lifelike portrait of a landlord with deep roots yet a human touch. Paired with his naturally deceptive, gentle face and candid gaze, it was hard to doubt the truth of his words.

Yu Ling opened her mouth, but the bellyful of questions she had prepared felt like a pricked balloon, instantly deflating.

Yes, a whimsical old man who started in international trade, had a sharp eye for business, possessed deep pockets, and retired to Northern Europe—who had extensive connections, high standards, and was willing to do a favor for a "friend across generations"... it sounded perfectly plausible! It was far more credible than ridiculous guesses like "I am a hidden billionaire!"

She looked into Zhao Chen’s clear, candid eyes, then thought back to her own dark suspicion that she was some sort of "kept woman," and could not help but feel a twinge of guilt.

Perhaps she really was overthinking it? Those top-tier daily necessities, the luxury furniture, and even the afternoon tea from the Imperial Kitchen might truly just be the belongings left behind by this "whimsical and cute" old landlord, or perhaps sponsored by that equally mysterious "friend across generations."

The vines of suspicion seemed to be temporarily pruned, flattened by Zhao Chen’s gentle smile and his watertight explanation. Life returned to that track, neatly wrapped in frosting.

(Page 2 of 3)

The project progressed smoothly, Lin Wei’s trust grew day by day, and Zhao Chen’s attentiveness was all-encompassing. Yu Ling even began to learn how to enjoy this life nourished by both top-tier material comforts and extreme tenderness, the secret unease in her heart temporarily covered by a soothing warmth.

However, beneath the calm surface of a lake, there are always undercurrents. The gentle, harmless facade Zhao Chen wore was occasionally broken by subtle, barely perceptible cracks. These cracks often stemmed from those mysterious phone calls from his "friends."

It was a Wednesday morning.

Yu Ling was awakened by the aroma of coffee drifting from the kitchen. Rubbing her eyes, she walked out of the bedroom to find Zhao Chen already wearing a little whale-print apron, busy behind the kitchen island.

On the dining table, two exquisite breakfasts were already laid out—smoked salmon Eggs Benedict with asparagus, accompanied by freshly baked croissants and a vibrant berry salad.

"Morning." Hearing her footsteps, Zhao Chen turned, offering her a warm smile, his eyes bright. "It'll be ready to eat once you wash up."

"Morning," Yu Ling replied with a smile and headed to the bathroom.

By the time she finished washing up and sat down at the dining table feeling refreshed, Zhao Chen walked over with two steaming lattes. He placed one in front of Yu Ling; the latte art was a cute little whale, identical to the pattern on his apron.

"Thank you." Yu Ling felt a warmth in her heart and picked up the cup, sipping the fragrant coffee.

Just then, the phone Zhao Chen had left on the island rang. It wasn't a standard ringtone, but a low, short, and rhythmic vibration.

The smile on Zhao Chen’s face faded slightly. He set down his coffee and glanced at the screen. A strange, long overseas number starting with a plus sign flashed across it. The moment his eyes touched the number, they became calm and sharp, like a layer of ice suddenly freezing over a still lake.

"I need to take this call," he said softly to Yu Ling, who was busy with her Eggs Benedict. His tone remained gentle, yet carried a hint of subtle detachment. He took the phone and, instead of going to the study, walked straight toward the large observation balcony connected to the living room.

The balcony was fully enclosed with floor-to-ceiling glass and offered an excellent view, filled with sunlight. Zhao Chen pushed open the heavy glass door, stepped out, and pulled it shut behind him. The soundproof glass blocked most of the noise from outside; she could only see his tall silhouette standing by the railing, back turned to the dining room.

Yu Ling speared a piece of tender, soft-boiled egg, but her gaze couldn't help but follow Zhao Chen on the balcony. Through the glass, his form was somewhat blurred, but she could clearly see him holding the phone to his ear, his side profile tense, his jawline as sharp as if carved by a knife.

(Page 3 of 3)

At first, he seemed to be listening quietly, nodding occasionally, his posture relatively relaxed. But before long, the knuckles holding the phone turned white, his body straightened, and the curve of his profile revealed a cold, rigid tension.

He said a few things into the receiver, his pace measured. Through the glass, the sound was indistinct, but Yu Ling clearly caught the sudden drop in air pressure radiating from him!

It was an invisible, icy sense of oppression! Even through the glass, even with his back to her, Yu Ling could feel the air seemingly freeze. The sunlight falling on him failed to dispel the chill.

He was no longer the stay-at-home husband in a cartoon apron with a gentle smile; he looked more like a commander standing on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a battlefield, exuding a majesty and coldness that warned others to keep their distance.

He spoke a few more words into the phone. This time, through the glass, Yu Ling could even see his slightly furrowed brows and thin, tightly pressed lips.

His tone appeared steady, yet every interval between his words carried a heavy sense of power, as if he were issuing an unquestionable command. Finally, he cut the call short, lowered the phone, but did not turn around immediately. He stood quietly at the edge of the balcony, gazing at the rows of buildings in the distance, his silhouette tall and lonely, carrying an indescribable weight.

In the dining room, the salmon in Yu Ling’s mouth suddenly lost its flavor. Her grip on the fork tightened, and the cloud of suspicion she had struggled to suppress surged uncontrollably once more. What kind of "friend" could make him shed his gentle facade in an instant and reveal such an icy, forceful side? That overseas number... who was it? What were they discussing?

A few minutes later, the balcony door slid open. Zhao Chen walked in, his face already restored to a gentle, harmless smile, as if the cold, oppressive man from moments ago had been a hallucination. The sunlight fell on him once again, chasing away all the gloom.

"Sorry, kept you waiting." He sat back at the table naturally and took a bite of his croissant, his tone light. "An old friend. Encountered some trouble with an overseas investment and got a bit anxious, so he called to vent and ask for some advice."

He explained it airily, looking at Yu Ling with clear eyes. "You know, even though I’m just an ordinary employee, back at Chenxing... well, I encountered a few cases like this, and friends always like to chat with me about such things."

Another friend. Another vent. Another bit of advice.