Shen Weilan's small face at this moment revealed a trace of fragility, her fair complexion and smooth, long hair made her small face look as tiny as the palm of a hand.
It was this very face that instantly softened the man's heart. In his memory, she was still the girl next door, but unexpectedly, she had been schemed against by her own relatives.
This made him feel as if their fates were linked.
However, looking at her drunken state, Lu Hechen was taken aback, narrowing his eyes with a hint of sharpness at the corners of his lips.
Weilan mumbled in a daze, "You seem angry?"
"You're sad, you don't want to marry Lu Hechen?" the man asked, his thin lips parting slightly.
Weilan nodded, muttering softly, "Who would want to marry a tablet representing their sister's fiancé? That's... uh... not right. It's like messing up the generations."
Instantly, a chilling aura radiated from the man's body. She really dared to say that word.
He was displeased, his hand tightening slightly.
Weilan stiffened, lifting her eyes to meet his. "Why is your hand warm? Ghosts should be cold, shouldn't they?"
"Shen Weilan, it turns out that when you're drunk, you're quite talkative." He leaned down and whispered, "Soon, it'll get even warmer. Ghosts have temperature too."
"Why?"
Before Weilan could finish, the man's magnetic voice once again struck her eardrums, "To let you know what it means to mess up the generations. Remember, you and I are of the same generation; you usually call me 'brother'."
"Oh." Weilan, as if she hadn't heard, simply craved the warmth of his embrace, snuggling obediently into Lu Hechen's arms.
The man sighed.
Weilan suddenly snapped back to reality, her eyes widening once again.
In a trance, like in a dream, she experienced something she never had before.
Later, she heard the man's deep voice ask, "Shen Weilan, are you afraid?"
Weilan instinctively tensed up, her face flushed and bewildered, not yet realizing what had happened.
In her stunned and foolish state, the man was losing patience.
Later, he still continued.
A very clean girl—Shen Weilan truly was a good girl.
Spotlessly clean, something he was very satisfied with.
The violent storm left Shen Weilan unable to cope.
In the blur, she couldn't see anything clearly.
The man was like a leopard that had been lying in wait, while Shen Weilan slipped into a doze amidst the tumult.
The man looked at his watch, it was five o'clock.
He got up without any reluctance and walked towards the bathroom.
Soon returning, he looked as neatly dressed and as imposing as ever.
Weilan was still sleeping, utterly unaware of what had happened.
The man walked towards the door, turned around for a profound look at the woman on the bed, and finally strode away.
At six-thirty, Shen Weilan woke up on time to her biological clock from the hangover.
She moved her body, feeling almost as if it had fallen apart from the aches all over. What on earth had happened?
What had taken place? Why did she feel like she had been lugging around sacks all night, unable to move?
But now, she needed the bathroom.
Just as she got up, something flashed in her mind, shocking her, as fragments of memory suddenly twinkled through her thoughts.
Lu Hechen?
Was the man from last night the ghost of Lu Hechen?
Weilan sat abruptly on the bed, feeling as if her soul had been extracted. A ghost?
No.
Shen Weilan didn't believe for a second that ghosts existed in this world.
She quickly put on her clothes, ran out, and saw that the door to her Embroidery Workshop was closed. She hurried over, opened the surveillance system, and found that the video feed had been paused and prepared by someone earlier, with a segment from eleven-thirty last night deleted.
Damn it, what on earth was going on?
As she frowned, the phone rang.
She answered the call, and Ding Lan's ambiguous voice came through from the other end, "Weilan, congratulations."