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Fei peeked at him, her hands trembling as she struggled to balance the tea tray. Her heart raced as she bashfully watched his handsome figure engrossed in a book.
He looked different from what she had imagined, not entirely, but even more striking. Liang Yang's features were sharp and majestic, making him look unapproachable—more like a king than a prince.
A shy smile lit up her face, seeing him so absorbed in his reading. Did he like reading? She did too.
Biting her lip, she hesitated, unsure whether to interrupt him. The thought of displeasing him troubled her deeply.
Her hand rose slowly to knock on the door, her knuckles rapping timidly twice. Knock!
Her face instantly blushed when the man looked up which made her shyly lower her gaze.
For a moment, there was a deep and long silence. She gulped, feeling his burning stare. Is he upset? She didn't dare meet his eyes.
Yang gazed at the little grown girl who had seemed to capture his thoughts since the moment he arrived. Even reading a book hadn't helped; her bewitching beauty kept intruding on his mind.
The man slowly closed the book in his hand and leaned on the sofa before resting his arm on the armrest in a relaxed manner.
“Come in.”
His masculine voice was calm and patient as he watched her struggling to come inside whilst bowing her head, hiding most of her face while doing so.
Seeing her standing stiff with a tray in her hand, he raised his eyebrows. He'd been wondering why he didn't get the tea he asked for.
Well, the maids of this manor can be sly at setting things up.
Yang observed as his wife remained rooted in place, as if she needed his permission to approach.
Sighing, he said softly, “Come closer, sweetheart.” His tender tone made Fei's heart flutter.
She hesitated for a moment before cautiously moving toward him. After setting the tray on the table, she nervously fidgeted with the edges of her dress, still standing stiffly.
Yang reached out, gently taking her hand and guiding her to sit beside him on the sofa.
She flushed at his closeness and the way his attention was solely on her. His cool and steady breath fanned against her cheek, turning it red with shyness.
Yang felt a twinge of helplessness, watching her so shy and flustered in his presence, but he remained calm and composed.“You’re not supposed to stand there like an attendant; you’re the lady of this house.”
“But mother—” She instantly stopped herself, remembering she wasn’t supposed to speak about her previous home.
She looked up at him, seeking permission to speak.“M-May I?”
