126: Chapter 126 When the Plums Ripen: Childhood Sweetheart Male Lead 4

Meng Zhu skillfully took a White Rabbit Creamy Candy out of his pocket and fed it to her; the bullet comments didn't notice anything unusual.

[Is this even reasonable? What decent person has candy in their pocket every single day?]

[So, he's just waiting to coax a kid anytime, anywhere?]

The bullet comments chattered on, but Meng Zhu found it hard to explain himself.

In the past, he always thought those movies where a domineering president becomes someone's salvation just by giving them a piece of candy were so brainless.

But now, sharing the original host's feelings, he finally understood how precious it truly was.

Just because Nan Li loved White Rabbit Creamy Candy since she was a child, this guy had never run out of candy on him from childhood to adulthood.

He even replaced them with fresh ones every day to prevent them from melting.

Doing it for a day or two was one thing, but never forgetting for over a decade—even when on business trips out of town where it was absolutely impossible to run into the female lead, he still carried candy on him.

They say true feelings can be acted out. Meng Zhu took this as a lesson; well, he would elevate acting books to his second priority in the future.

...

After feeding her the medicine, Meng Zhu went to fetch a warm towel and meticulously wiped her face and hands.

Nan Li was like a cat that hated taking baths, flailing her arms and legs as she moved around.

Fortunately, this wasn't his first time doing this, so Meng Zhu's movements were smooth and practiced, without the slightest awkwardness.

After finishing all of this, he turned and walked into the adjacent walk-in closet, bringing out two brand-new quilts.

Then, right under the shocked gaze of countless bullet comment viewers...

He calmly made a makeshift bed on the floor next to Nan Li's bed, at a distance that was neither too close nor too far.

[This, this... watching it like a movie indeed feels really exaggerated.]

[Outrageous. This is crossing the line, isn't it? Won't the female lead feel uncomfortable when she wakes up?]

[Probably. If it were me and my own brother made a bed on the floor in my room, I'd also feel super uncomfortable.]

[The room passcode, the layout, the bedroom, the towels, the quilts—he knows everything. It's no different from his own home.]

[You guys are just sour grapes. I only see meticulous care and protection.]

[Sour grapes my foot! Taking care of her without any official status is just crossing boundaries and harassment.]

[Exactly. Don't forget, forced-love movies have been nominated for bans for several years now.]

[Worrying over nothing. Who do you think Meng Zhu is? Since he did this, he must have his reasons. We believe in him.]

Ignoring the bullet comments, Meng Zhu got up to take another look at Nan Li before going to sleep.

He tucked her in more tightly.

Just as he was about to pull his hand back, Nan Li murmured in her sleep:

"Brother Courtesy Name..."

Meng Zhu paused, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

He turned off the main bedroom light, leaving only a small bedside nightlight, and then returned to his bed on the floor, lying down quietly.

The moonlight, like water, filtered through the window screen and gently spilled onto the floor.

The night passed in silence.

In the early morning, sunlight quietly slipped into the room through a gap in the curtains.

The "silkworm cocoon" on the bed finally stirred.

Nan Li slowly opened her bleary eyes. The hangover left her mind still a bit foggy. She subconsciously sat up and rubbed her aching temples.

Her memories, like beads from a broken string, pieced themselves together fragmentarily. She vaguely remembered a broad, warm back and tasting sweet creamy candy.

Drowsily lowering her head, her gaze swept across the edge of the bed and instantly froze.

On the floor, a man was sleeping peacefully.

For any other girl, waking up to find a man in her room—even if he was just sleeping on the floor—would probably make her scream in terror.

But Nan Li didn't. There was not a trace of panic in her clear eyes; instead, all her defenses melted away in an instant, and her entire body relaxed.

Instead of rushing to get up, she rolled over, lying on the edge of the bed like a lazy kitten.

She crossed her two fair, tender arms to rest her chin, poking her fluffy head over the edge of the bed, staring straight at Meng Zhu's sleeping face.

The room was very quiet, with only the sound of their light, shallow breathing intertwining.

This cold, gentle, and noble young master was the only person she trusted with all her heart.

Playfully tilting her head, she felt a pang of heartache as she looked at the faint dark circles under Meng Zhu's eyes.

[It seems a bit different from what we thought?]

[I told you guys you were worrying over nothing. The person involved doesn't even mind, okay?]

[I still think there's a problem. Even couples in contract marriages sleep in separate rooms, don't they?]

[You guys worry too much. I just want to say, Nickname is so beautiful in this lifetime! And her appearance—there's such a huge difference between her ancient and modern styles. Her modern style is actually so cute!]

[Indeed, and the two of them look so good together, like a golden boy and jade girl.]

While the bullet comments were shipping them as a couple, the reality was that Nan Li, looking at the sleeping Meng Zhu, was falling into the memory of their first meeting.

Thus, the bullet comment viewers watched as the screen transitioned, inserting a flashback sequence.

That year, she had just turned seven, and he was about to turn ten.

Her world suddenly turned from colorful to black and white.

In the funeral hall, the scent of burning incense blended with a cold, solemn atmosphere, suffocatingly oppressive.

The young Nan Li squatted alone in a corner, holding her parents' black-and-white funeral portraits on her lap.

Her small body curled into a ball, and her tears fell silently like beads from a broken string.

But she didn't dare to cry out loud.

Because besides grief, she felt more of a sense of fear and bewilderment.

Many people came to the funeral hall, all dressed in black, with solemn expressions, speaking in low voices.

Most of them were employees of the Meng Group and old acquaintances of her parents.

And she didn't know a single one of them.

Those organizing the funeral, who claimed to be closest to her parents, were members of the Meng Family, but they made her feel particularly uneasy.

While exchanging pleasantries with others, they would point and gesture toward her from time to time.

Some squinted, sizing her up as if inspecting merchandise.

Some were clearly chatting and laughing with others, yet the corners of their eyes remained fixed on Nan Li.

At seven years old, she didn't understand anything, but she could feel the faint malice behind those gazes.

She was like a young beast abandoned by the world, shivering in the cold and darkness.

Until a slight commotion arose at the entrance of the funeral hall.

A gray-haired, elegant elderly couple walked in, followed by a boy of about ten years old.

The elderly couple offered incense before the altar, and after paying their respects, their gazes fell upon Nan Li in the corner.

But that gaze held no scrutiny, no calculation, only a heart-wrenching pity and tenderness.

The boy following behind them stared intently at her with a pair of clear, bright eyes.

He stared for a long, long time.

So long that Nan Li almost forgot to cry.

Then, under everyone's gaze, the boy took a step forward, walked through the crowd, and came straight toward her, step by step.

He stood still in front of her, the shadow he cast perfectly shielding her from the harsh, cold fluorescent light overhead.

The whole world seemed to quiet down as he approached.

He bent down, stretched out a hand to her, and spoke in a steady tone that didn't match his age.

"I'll take you home, okay?"

At that moment, time seemed to truly stand still.

Nan Li raised her tear-blurred face, looking at the noble boy before her.

His voice was very pleasant, like a mountain spring.

His hand remained suspended in mid-air, with no rushing, only patience.

Nan Li hesitated for a moment. Finally, she reached out her cold little hand and gently placed it in his palm.

At the same moment, she saw the astonishment and fury in the eyes of many members of the Meng Family.

If your enemies are angry at you, then you must have done something right.

...

The memories receded like the tide.

Nan Li's gaze refocused. She looked at his hand resting on the edge of the floor bed—slender and well-defined.

It was this very hand that had pulled her out of the dark corner at the age of seven, led her out of the funeral hall, and brought her home.