"Well, well, well. Look who decided to grace me with his presence," she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten how to use a phone, Mr. CEO." her lips curved into a smirk that oozed pride and mischief. Her eyes, twin pools of challenge and amusement, sparkled like rare gems.
Zhao Jingshen felt as if he'd been sucker-punched by reality. The weight of his abrupt demand crashed down on him, leaving him winded. Three days of silence after officially becoming a couple and learning her true name, only to burst in demanding to talk? He mentally flogged himself, feeling utterly unworthy of her presence.
"I'm sorry, that's not—" he stammered, but Meilin, with the dramatic flair of a Broadway diva, cut him off by inserting her earbuds.
"Shhh," she hushed, pressing a delicate finger to her lips in an exaggerated gesture. "What would you like to talk about, Mr. Zhao?" Before he could formulate a response, she continued, her tone dripping with honeyed sarcasm and feigned innocence. "If it's about the paintings, I'm sorry, but I'm not done yet. Don't worry though! I'll complete them in time for the gala."
Zhao Jingshen recognized the use of 'Mr. Zhao' as a clear sign of her lingering anger, but at this moment, formalities were the least of his concerns. His mind whirled with a single, burning question: was she truly the Rosie Blackwood he suspected? And if so, what in the world was she doing in Xia City? Fear wasn't his primary emotion, but a desperate need to protect her if things went south consumed him.
"Meilin," he said, his voice softening like butter in the sun. "You know that's not what I meant. I know I told you I'd wait for you to tell me in your own time, but I'm going crazy trying to guess."
Meilin scoffed, then pivoted on a dime to a playful demeanor. "I'll tell you what, Mr. Big shot!" She spun gracefully to lock her door, then whirled back to face him, her eyes glinting with mischievous fire. "I'm going boxing now. Why don't you come with me? If you can beat me, I'll tell you whatever you need to know!" She arched an eyebrow, issuing a silent challenge.
When he hesitated, she added with a smirk, "Unless you're too scared to fight me?"
"You wish!" Zhao Jingshen shot back, amused by her audacious dare. She kept her gaze locked on him, that infuriatingly prideful smile playing on her lips. "You're so on," he declared. She sashayed past him, exuding confidence with every step.
Silence reigned as they descended the stairs together. Outside, Zhao Jingshen moved to open the car door for her, but she smirked and quipped, "What are you, twelve? I'll race you." Without warning, she took off like a shot, leaving him momentarily stunned before he sprinted after her, his heart racing with more than just exertion.
As Zhao Jingshen chased after Jiang Meilin, he found himself mesmerized by her grace and energy. Her ponytail swung hypnotically, a metronome keeping time with her fluid movements. He couldn't help but admire the way her athletic form moved with such precision. 'Damn, I love her,' he thought, pushing himself to catch up. Identity and motives be damned, he knew he'd be with her no matter what.
When he finally drew level, Jiang Meilin flashed him a smile bright enough to outshine the sun. "Took you long enough, slowpoke!" she teased, her breathing barely affected.
"Just warming up," he retorted, matching her stride for stride. "I hope you're not all talk and no action when we get to the gym."
Jiang Meilin's laugh rang out, a melody that sent warmth coursing through Zhao Jingshen's body despite the cool morning air. "Oh, you're in for a surprise, Mr. CEO. I've got moves you've never seen."
"I look forward to it," he replied, his voice laced with challenge. "Though I hope you're not too attached to that pretty face of yours. It'd be a shame to mess it up."
She shot him a playful glare that could melt steel. "Worry about your own face, pretty boy. I might just improve it for you."
As they neared the gym, Jiang Meilin suddenly accelerated like a cheetah spotting prey. "Last one there buys breakfast!" she called over her shoulder, her voice carried by the wind.
Grinning like a fool in love, Zhao Jingshen poured on the speed, determined not to let her victory come easy. They burst through the gym doors in a photo finish, both breathless and laughing like carefree children.
"Tie?" Zhao Jingshen suggested, hands on his knees as he gulped for air.
Meilin shook her head, eyes twinkling with mirth. "Not a chance. I clearly won."
"In your dreams, maybe," he retorted, straightening up. "But I'll buy breakfast anyway. Consider it an apology for being an ass these past few days."
Her expression softened, like ice cream in the sun. "Apology accepted. Now, let's see if you can keep up in the ring." The glint in her eye promised she still had plans to teach him a lesson.
As they entered the boxing area, Jiang Meilin had transformed into a vision in a sports tight and bra, while Zhao Jingshen sported only shorts, his chiseled torso on full display. They appraised each other silently, the air crackling with unspoken tension. To clear the atmosphere, Jiang Meilin laid out the rules of engagement. "For every punch you land, I'll tell you one thing about me, and you can ask one question. But don't you dare insult me by going easy. I'm going all out."
Zhao Jingshen nodded, a cocktail of excitement and trepidation coursing through his veins. They donned their gloves and protective gear, stepping into the ring like gladiators entering the Colosseum.
Jiang Meilin wasted no time, launching into a flurry of jabs that had him on the defensive immediately. Her speed and precision were both impressive and deadly, leaving Jingshen working overtime just to avoid her strikes. Despite her claim of going all out, he could tell from her moves that she was still holding back.
"Come on, CEO," she taunted, dancing around him like a butterfly. "I thought you were going to make me talk?"
Gritting his teeth, Zhao Jingshen focused, searching for an opening like a hawk hunting its prey. When Jiang Meilin overextended on a right hook, he ducked under and landed a solid body shot.
"First blood," he grinned, triumph in his eyes. "Where are you from?"
Meilin grunted, acknowledging the hit. "Continent F," she answered tersely, immediately launching back into her assault with renewed vigor.
The fight continued, a beautiful dance of attack and defense, a tango of fists and footwork. Jiang Meilin was relentless, her movements fluid and unpredictable as a raging river. But Zhao Jingshen was no pushover, his larger frame and longer reach giving him advantages of his own.
After a particularly intense exchange that left them both breathless, Zhao Jingshen managed to slip past Jiang Meilin's guard, landing a clean hit to her solar plexus. She stumbled back, momentarily winded.
"Are you THE Blackwood heiress?" he asked, his heart pounding as much from anticipation as from exertion.
Jiang Meilin's eyes flashed, a kaleidoscope of emotions crossing her face too quickly for Zhao Jingshen to decipher. "What do you think?" she countered, her voice low and challenging.
Before he could press further, she was on him again, her fists a blur of motion. Suddenly, she connected with a solid punch to his stomach. "That's for not calling me for two days," she said, a hint of real hurt beneath her playful tone.
Zhao Jingshen grunted, feeling the sting of both her fist and her words. "I deserved that," he admitted, rubbing his abdomen. "But don't think it'll save you."
Their banter continued as they traded blows, each punch revealing a new piece of the puzzle that was Jiang Meilin – or rather, Rosie Blackwood.
"Why are you in Xia City?" Zhao Jingshen asked after landing a glancing blow to her shoulder.
"Long story," Meilin panted, dodging his follow-up with the grace of a seasoned dancer. "One you're not ready for yet."