82: Forced Love Overlord 7

Time quietly slipped away in Li Jin’s almost frozen gaze.

Only the dim yellow glow of the wall lamp remained in the study, along with his own gradually calming yet still heavy heartbeat.

Wen Ci’s even, shallow breaths brushed against his neck, like the softest feathers, each one stirring his taut nerves.

That warm weight and defenseless leaning against him were like the mellowest wine, intoxicating him, as the dam of his rationality slowly softened and melted in the silent tenderness.

He had maintained the stiff posture for too long, and half of his body was numb, but this numbness was strangely covered by the surging warmth in his chest.

His gaze greedily traced her sleeping profile—her smooth forehead, thick eyelashes, small, straight nose, and those slightly pursed, soft, rosy lips.

An unprecedented desire, filled with strong possessiveness, unexpectedly burst forth from the deepest part of his heart, growing wildly.

It was an instinctive impulse that transcended gratitude and peace; a desire to draw closer, to touch, to confirm the reality of this warmth, to leave his mark on her.

As if by a ghost’s will, Li Jin’s head, driven by an impulse he hadn’t fully realized himself, slowly, bit by bit, lowered.

His breathing became hot, accompanied by a cautious holding of breath, as if afraid to disturb the invisible dust in the air. His gaze was completely fixated on the soft curve of her lips, now so close.

The distance silently shortened.

His tall nose almost touched the delicate skin of her cheek, their warm breaths mingling.

His heart pounded like a drum, blood roared in his eardrums, and the world was reduced to the soft curve of her lips.

Just as his thin lips, with an almost imperceptible tremor, were about to lightly press against the corner of her mouth—

Wen Ci’s long, thick eyelashes, like startled butterfly wings, fluttered without warning.

Immediately after, her clear eyes, with a hint of the hazy mist of waking, slowly and defenselessly opened.

Their eyes met.

Time froze completely at that instant.

All of Li Jin’s movements, all of his breaths, all of his heartbeats, completely stiffened under the gaze of those suddenly opened eyes.

He was mere millimeters from the corner of her mouth.

The initial confusion in Wen Ci’s eyes quickly faded, replaced by a clear astonishment.

Li Jin felt a rush of scorching blood “boom” and instantly shot from the soles of his feet to the top of his head! All rationality, all calmness, all presidential authority, vanished into thin air at this moment.

His pupils suddenly dilated, clearly reflecting Wen Ci’s face, so close, and his own disheveled appearance, caught red-handed in an improper act.

A colossal sense of shame and an unprecedented panic engulfed him like a tsunami.

“Whoosh—!”

The next second, Li Jin, as if scalded by a branding iron, abruptly sprang from the chair! His movements were so swift they created a gust of wind, nearly causing Wen Ci, who was leaning against him, to fall.

His tall body stiffened and straightened, his back to Wen Ci, his chest heaving violently, his earlobes and even his entire neck flushed red like a cooked shrimp, strikingly conspicuous in the dim light.

He could even feel the scorching heat frantically spreading to his cheeks.

He opened his mouth, but his throat felt clogged with sandpaper, too dry to utter a sound. His mind was blank, only the words “It’s over” frantically scrolling.

“…Medicine! Bandage… Thank you!” He finally squeezed out a few fragmented, illogical words, his voice hoarse and strained, each word seemingly forced through his teeth,

“…Very good! …Uh, water too… Thank you!”

He was incoherent, not knowing what he was saying, only wanting to escape this scene where he wished he could disappear on the spot.

Before he finished speaking, Li Jin dared not look back at Wen Ci’s expression, almost moving with the same arm and leg, at a speed close to race walking, stiffly and awkwardly rushing towards the door.

He yanked open the heavy oak door, his figure, as if chased by a ghost, instantly vanishing into the shadows of the corridor outside.

“Bang!”

The study door slammed shut behind him hastily and with immense panic, emitting a dull thud that echoed in the silent room.

Wen Ci remained in her previous leaning posture, her body swaying slightly from the force of Li Jin’s sudden Get up.

She looked at the door that had been roughly shut, then lowered her gaze to the spot on his shoulder where her head had rested, still retaining his body heat and a faint, cool scent.

After a few seconds of daze, a trace of an irrepressible smile slowly spread in her clear eyes.

Immediately after, the smile could no longer be contained.

“Pfft—”

A crisp, joyful laugh escaped her lips, breaking the lingering awkwardness in the study.

The laughter was clean, bright, and penetrating, clearly reaching outside the door.

Li Jin, who was in a state of utter disarray, only wanting to rush back to his room and bury himself, stumbled abruptly, almost slipping on the polished floor!

The laughter precisely struck his already burning eardrums and his shamed heart.

The flush on his face instantly spread to his forehead; he felt like his whole body was on fire!

He suddenly raised a hand to cover his burning ears, his steps quickening, almost fleeing in panic, his tall figure appearing exceptionally flustered and… clumsy in the empty corridor.

Just then, around the corner of the corridor, Butler Old Zhou, who was about to check on the situation, happened to peek out.

From afar, he only saw his master’s once-in-a-century sight: a fleeing back as if his butt was on fire, and his ears and the back of his neck so red they almost dripped blood.

Old Zhou: “…?!”

He widened his eyes in astonishment, his mouth slightly agape, the tray he was holding almost falling to the ground.

Good heavens! What did he see?!

That Mr. Li, who was always stern and composed, unfazed by any crisis… actually… blushed? And… ran like a cat with its tail stepped on?!

Old Zhou stiffly turned his neck, looking at the closed study door, then at the direction Li Jin had disappeared, and then recalled the faint… Wen Miss’s laughter he seemed to have heard earlier?

An unbelievable yet seemingly perfectly reasonable conjecture exploded in Old Zhou’s mind like a clap of thunder.

The wrinkles on his face smoothed out from extreme shock, his eyes wide as saucers, his jaw almost dropping to his chest.

What… what earth-shattering event happened in the west wing study just now?!

*

Li Jin did not dare to appear in front of Wen Ci again, but the covert surveillance continued.

One day, while Wen Ci was resting and reading in the garden, the new young gardener, Xiao Chen, in his early twenties, with a touch of newcomer’s curiosity and a young man’s natural yearning for beautiful things, was pruning a cluster of blooming roses nearby when his gaze was involuntarily drawn to the scene, lingering for a few extra seconds.

Perhaps there was admiration in that gaze, a longing for that tranquility, absolutely no hint of disrespect, yet it was enough to ignite the dormant savagery in Li Jin’s heart.

On the huge screen in the monitoring room, Li Jin’s eyes instantly dropped to an icy temperature.

The steel pen in his hand was clenched with a “click,” his knuckles turning white.

The lingering gaze of that young figure on the screen was like a fine needle, precisely piercing his most taut nerve endings.

Look again… and you won’t need your eyeballs.

A cold murderous intent flashed in his eyes, immediately replaced by a deeper gloom.

The next morning, the butler expressionlessly informed Xiao Chen: “Your professional skill assessment did not meet the standard. The main residence area requires more precise gardening maintenance. You are immediately transferred to the West District nursery, to be responsible for basic seedling work.”

Xiao Chen was bewildered and aggrieved; he had clearly been meticulously selected, so what assessment? But he dared not question it.

In the afternoon, an old master, over fifty, with a serious expression and eyes focused only on the flowers and plants in his hands, silently took his place and began meticulously pruning branches, from beginning to end, his gaze never shifting even slightly towards Wen Ci.

Wen Ci watched Xiao Chen’s dejected back being led away from behind the window, and then watched the new old master work with unswerving focus, understanding the situation.

She gently closed the poetry collection, her fingertips caressing the pages, and couldn’t help but curve her lips into a soft smile.

Li Jin’s control permeated silently.

The butler, with impeccable respect, conveyed the new “work arrangement” to Wen Miss: “Wen Miss, the master understands your hard work, and for the overall safety of the estate, he hopes your work scope will be concentrated in the core area of the main residence—the master’s living room, study, tea room, and the small garden on the east side near the study.

Other areas, such as those near the main gate, garage, and staff quarters, have complex personnel flow, so you needn’t worry about them, to ensure you can serve the master more diligently.”

This seemingly considerate arrangement was, in fact, an invisible fence.

Wen Ci’s activity space was moved away from all channels that might allow her to access external information or interact with more staff.

Wen Ci listened quietly, without refuting, without questioning, simply nodding obediently: “Understood, I will comply, thank you for the arrangement, Butler.”

She even utilized this “restriction.” In that small, relatively sunny corner on the east side, she began to clear a small plot of land, found some unused flowerpots from the tool shed, and planted some resilient pothos and sunflowers.

She enjoyed it every day.