Chapter 17: Stay with Me for a While

Zhao Botong wiped her damp hair and went to the guest room, locking the door behind her. Before she could dry her hair, Li Xueya’s call came through.

“Botong, how are you? I’ve been so worried about you.”

Zhao Botong drew the curtains tightly, a flash of these past few days’ tense experiences crossing her mind. She didn’t want Li Xueya to worry. “Xueya, I’m fine. I’m at a villa over in East City now.”

Li Xueya had initially wanted Zhao Botong to move in with her for a few days, but she herself had encountered a difficult situation recently and didn’t know how to handle it. She had been rehearsing how to tell Zhao Botong about her plight, but in the end, the words that came out were, “...Botong, are you alone?”

Zhao Botong hesitated for a moment. “Yes, I’m alone.”

Putting aside her own troubles for the moment, Li Xueya shifted the conversation to Jing Pei’s matter.

“Jing Pei’s death was unexpected. Have the Jing family given you any trouble?”

Zhao Botong shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Do you know why?”

Zhao Botong, having been mostly isolated in the hospital these past few days, naturally had no idea.

Li Xueya continued, “It turns out Fang Zhixu has intervened. He’s been using his connections to smooth things over. The Jing family handled the funeral quietly, but Jing Pei’s parents have made it clear—they lost their son young, but the one to blame isn’t their boy. They won’t just let it go. Botong, you have to be careful!”

Zhao Botong gripped the phone tightly, her voice hoarse. “I understand.”

A wave of uncertainty washed over her, her mind wavering. Fang Zhixu had made a move—was it because of her?

Li Xueya guessed her thoughts and, fearing she might soften and fall into Fang Zhixu’s trap again, warned her, “Botong, Fang Zhixu acted for his fiancée. I have reliable information: the police have evidence showing Jing Pei was urged by Meng Tang to go to your apartment. If he hadn’t gone that day, if he hadn’t given in to temptation, he might still be alive!”

The moisture on Zhao Botong’s skin hadn’t dried yet, and her eyes were misty. The warmth of her body felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over her. Still, she questioned with a hint of disbelief, “Xueya, are you sure?”

A brief silence came from the other end. Li Xueya steeled herself and spoke recklessly, regardless of consequences. “Remember Lawyer Ji who handled the lawsuit for my father? He frequents the police station and is well acquainted with both the police and legal circles. He’s a top lawyer in South City, having represented many wealthy families in economic and property disputes. He was the one who told me.”

Zhao Botong had a vague impression of Lawyer Ji. A year ago, Li Xueya’s father was imprisoned on charges of embezzlement abusing his position. The plaintiff was Hongcheng Company, where Xueya’s father worked—a leading biotech firm in South City with strong backing and ample evidence. It was almost certain he’d be sentenced harshly.

Li Xueya refused to accept this and, believing in her father’s innocence, used every connection she had to find Lawyer Ji.

Zhao Botong’s heart fluttered uneasily as she considered the news that Fang Zhixu had acted for Meng Tang. She had little energy to ponder why Lawyer Ji would share such sensitive information with Li Xueya.

Knock, knock—

There were two knocks on the door. Fang Zhixu twisted the handle, but the door was locked from inside—like it was barricaded against him.

He tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Zhao Botong, come down for dinner.”

Zhao Botong hurriedly ended her call with Li Xueya.

Opening the door, she saw the man in casual home clothes, his collar loose, dark shadows under his eyes betraying restless nights. Stubble along his jawline and temples gave him a rugged, masculine allure.

Fang Zhixu narrowed his eyes. “Speechless?”

Zhao Botong lowered her gaze. “No.”

“Complaining about me to your best friend?”

Not knowing how long Fang Zhixu had stood there or what he had heard, she suddenly felt a shiver run down her spine at his question. “She was just concerned about me. We talked briefly.”

Fang Zhixu could see her evasiveness and the weight on her mind. But since she didn’t want to say more, he let it be.

Downstairs, a middle-aged woman was carrying dishes from the kitchen to the dining room. Seeing Zhao Botong come down, she nodded in greeting. “Miss Zhao.”

Zhao Botong wasn’t used to being addressed so formally. She responded politely, “Just call me Zhao Botong.”

Fang Zhixu spoke from behind her, “You don’t need to be so formal. Jiang Ma is one of us. She took care of me when I was young. While you’re staying here in East City, she’ll come regularly to clean and cook. Just settle in without worry.”

Zhao Botong said casually, “What about you?”

Fang Zhixu raised an eyebrow. “You want me to stay here with you?”

Zhao Botong bit her lip—definitely not. If he came, she certainly wouldn’t stay here long.

“I mean, I can’t stay here often either. It’s far from downtown, inconvenient for my commute.”

Jiang Ma was perceptive. After setting the dishes on the table, she told Fang Zhixu, “If the young master needs anything, just call me,” then went off to the maid’s quarters in the basement.

Once Jiang Ma left, Fang Zhixu deliberately shifted to sit beside Zhao Botong. Just as she was beginning to relax, her nerves tensed again.

Zhao Botong stirred the rice in her bowl. Her slender fingers against the white porcelain made a delicate picture. “I’m full. I’ll go rest upstairs.”

Fang Zhixu smirked. “Full already? I remember you used to have a bigger appetite. Not afraid of being alone together, I won’t force you to do anything.”

Zhao Botong stood up. “I really am full.”

“I’m not full yet!” Fang Zhixu grabbed her delicate wrist and pulled her into his arms. In the motion, the back of her hand struck the porcelain bowl, which shattered with a sharp sound.

Startled, Zhao Botong realized she had fallen into his embrace.

Worried the noise would draw Jiang Ma upstairs to investigate, and fearing the awkwardness of explaining their closeness, she struggled briefly. “Let go first. I need to pick up the broken pieces.”

With one hand, he effortlessly encircled her; the other was free to pinch her cheek. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a broken bowl. You’re bigger than a bowl.”

The dining room’s dim light cast a warm glow, and the emphasis on “bigger” carried a subtle meaning. His tone was ambiguous, and the intimate atmosphere invited endless speculation.

Zhao Botong blushed. “Jiang Ma is still downstairs.”

“Jiang Ma’s more sensible than you.” His deep, velvety voice sounded tired as he leaned against her slender shoulder. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Don’t move. Stay with me a while.”