Xia Ning saw the two of them flirting with each other at the doorway, and a shadow crept into her eyes, her fists clenched tightly.
Fu Han looked beautiful against the wind, the setting sun casting a golden glow over her. He Xing's gaze darkened, unable to look away.
"Shall we go? Mr. He, didn't you come out just to give me a ride home?"
She hid her earlier smile, now with a touch of chill and casualness, she indifferently extended the invitation to He Xing.
If there's a free ride, why not take it?
He Xing came to his senses, remained silent, and pressed the key fob, opening the car door.
No sooner had Fu Han set foot in the car than a powerful force pushed her from behind, and without any defense, she lay on her back on the rear seat, while He Xing leaned over her, trapping her within his arms, their faces only inches apart in an incredibly intimate pose.
"Mr. He, are you that desperate?" she asked, lifting the corners of her lips without giving face, her inspecting gaze slowly traveling down from He Xing's neck, waist, abdomen, and further down...
The man's face twitched, and his thin lips pressed into a tight line: "Fu Han, do you really think I wouldn't dare to touch you?"
"That's not it, but is Mr. He planning to give everyone a show? You've become quite open-minded in the three years we haven't seen each other."
He Xing felt a tingling in his scalp from her nagging, his teeth clenched as he forcefully suppressed his emotions.
Fu Han tilted her head to glance at Xia Ning, who was still standing behind him, and with a provocative lift of her eyebrow, she said interestedly, "If you don't get up now, your little wife is going to start crying."
She seemed unafraid of being aggressively affectionate, yet she claimed over and over that she no longer loved him.
Fu Han, after three years, how have you become so casual?
Darkness lingered in He Xing's deep eyes, but his interest waned. He pushed himself up off the seatback, and explained formally: "She's not my little wife, and don't misunderstand, I just slipped and fell. Get in the car."
He even reached out his hand, very gentleman-like, trying to pull Fu Han up.
When obliged, it's best to comply, taking He Xing's hand, Fu Han sat up and straightened her messy hair, casually admiring the scenery around her, not even sparing Xia Ning a glance.
Xia Ning clenched her teeth, a surge of frustration building in her chest with nowhere to release it.
"Brother He, could you give me a lift too?" she blocked He Xing, who was about to get into the driver's seat.
He Xing cast her only a fleeting glance: "I have urgent matters and need to go home. I'll call you a driver. Wait here, and they'll take you back in a bit."
His slender fingers fiddled with his phone, sending the driver the location.
Xia Ning's face went deathly pale, but she could only remain silent.
After ditching her, He Xing finally got in the car, started the engine, and drove off, leaving a trail of dust.
"You're quite heartless," Fu Han teased. She had not seen Xia Ning look like that three years ago, but for a man, she now just found it foolish.
He Xing drove, his eyes holding a heaviness she couldn't understand: "I've done all I could."
Was he explaining to himself that he had only ever been dutiful and righteous towards Xia Ning?
Fu Han curled her lips, resting her head in her hand as she looked out the window, thinking that when this man played the fool, he was quite extraordinary.
After arriving home, He Xing volunteered to carry the heavy camera for Fu Han. Just as he picked it up, the weight made his expression turn cold: "Next time, you can leave such troublesome tasks to the servants."
"Oh, is Mr. He feeling sorry for me?" Fu Han strolled nonchalantly, stepping carelessly along the patterns of the ground, like a lively child.
He Xing glanced at her: "If you were content staying at home as Mrs. He, you wouldn't have to do this hard work."
He had watched the whole shoot today and knew whether it had been difficult.
Fu Han looked up, a hint of a smile in her eyes, her lips curving: "Mr. He, better hold back on that thought. Grandfather has already agreed to my annulment, and our marriage arrangement isn't even set in stone yet. What can you do to me?"
Speaking of Grandfather, He Xing's face predictably darkened: "This is a matter between us; what Grandfather says doesn't count."
"Oh, it doesn't count," she changed her tune, the playful smile re-emerging, her fingers lightly twirling a lock of hair, "So does that mean the engagement Grandfather arranged initially doesn't count either?"
He Xing's face went cold, he turned abruptly: "Fu Han! Are you really eager to cut all ties with me?"
But Fu Han just laughed, snatched the camera from his hand, and briskly walked toward the bedroom: "Whether we sever ties or not, don't you already know?"
The bedroom door closed firmly, and He Xing's head began to throb. He stretched his right hand to press against his forehead, trying to alleviate the pain, but a wave of overwhelming frustration surged up from the bottom of his heart.
What a headache.
He was becoming less and less able to understand Fu Han, what she wanted to do, or what her thoughts really were.
He Xing left soon after, as he had company business to deal with, and drove straight to the He Group. Just as he walked into the office, an elegant and composed man came striding in with a powerful presence.
Xia Cheng walked into He Xing's office, slamming the door shut, his usually gentle eyes now showing rare dissatisfaction: "He Xing, you haven't explained last night's matter to our family, and yet you still went to our house to bully my sister today? Are you truly dismissing us now?"
Without even a glance up, he sat down and picked up a pen, gently flipping through some pages: "Did Xia Ning tattle on me?"
Xia Cheng choked on his immediate response, pausing to control his slightly hurried breath: "Can't I tell when my own sister is aggrieved? And at last night's party, weren't you the one who hosted it under the pretext of marrying Fu Han? What about Xia Ning then?"
He Xing's deep black eyes were as still as dead water, his hands clasped together on the desk: "I don't recall ever saying I would marry Xia Ning. As for your question, she's still the same as before, just a friend. Who I marry has nothing to do with her, right?"
"You know she likes you!" Xia Cheng slammed his hand onto the desk, the clanging sound even reaching outside.
Finally, some emotion appeared in He Xing's eyes, a cold anger climbing from their depths. His gaze shifted upwards, and he said, "Just because she likes me, am I supposed to marry her? I am already engaged to be married. If we're speaking of morals, she should know she can't like me."
With those words, Xia Cheng was thoroughly angered.
He now saw it clearly, He Xing was resolutely unwilling to give the Xia family an explanation, implicitly and explicitly protecting that woman Fu Han. No wonder Xia Ning had come home crying so heartbrokenly.
This wasn't just about being wronged; it was like having her heart gouged out!
"He Xing, have you truly forgotten the life-saving grace my mother once showed you? Xia Ning is the one you should marry!"
He Xing's face turned instantly overcast.
Was he so desperate that he would use his own biological mother as a bargaining chip in a moment of urgency?
"There's nothing I despise more than people who threaten me."