Chapter 88: Extra 2
For a few seconds, Xu Dian just stared at her outstretched hand. When he finally stood, he stumbled.
The crowd erupted in laughter.
Ignoring them, he slid the ring onto her finger—a perfect fit. Half a year of subtle hints, endless patience, and now—success.
It felt surreal.
His fingertips lingered on her hand, but Meng Ying snatched it back. Xu Dian looked up, empty-handed, as she clasped her hands behind her back, smirking. “What?”
What comes after a proposal?
From a nearby sports car, Zhou Yang howled: “He’s broken!!”
“Dude’s malfunctioning!”
“Probably thinks he’s still dreaming!”
“Someone wake him up!”
Meng Ying bit her lip, watching Xu Dian’s dazed expression. She took another step back, her heels clicking against the pavement. Xu Dian’s eyes narrowed as he advanced, step for step, until her back hit the iron gate.
He caged her in, one hand beside her head, his nose brushing hers. Meng Ying’s face flushed.
Xu Dian chuckled, then tilted his head—kissing her deeply, nipping at her lower lip until she gasped.
Her heart raced.
Since when was he this smooth?!
Then the roses tumbled from his grip, petals scattering as he hauled her against him, kissing her like the world was ending.
Behind them, cameras flashed.
The image went viral: *a man in a black shirt, a woman’s red-tipped fingers gripping his shoulders, rose petals swirling around them like a fairy tale.*
—
### Moving In
After the engagement, Meng Ying’s family arrived in LiCheng, staying at Xinyue Community while she prepared to move into Yiwan Landscape—Xu Dian’s primary residence, a place she’d never seen before.
The villa was sterile, monochrome, devoid of warmth.
The garage occupied the second basement level; the first held a home theater, gym, and one empty, freshly renovated room.
Xu Dian laced their fingers together. “This will be the playroom.”
Meng Ying “Oh”-ed, pretending not to hear.
He popped a mint into his mouth, crunching loudly as they ascended. “No live-in staff. They commute.”
She knew this quirk of his—Xu Dian hated outsiders in his space.
The master bedroom on the third floor connected to two walk-in closets. One was already filled with her clothes, courtesy of Jiang Yi. The other—
Meng Ying opened the door and blinked against the glare.
Every current-season luxury brand, meticulously arranged.
Xu Dian adjusted his cuffs. “They’ll deliver quarterly and remove outdated pieces.”
“What if I haven’t worn some yet?”
“Out they go.”
Meng Ying scowled. “No.”
He braced his hands on the dresser, leaning in. “Then what do you propose?”
“I’ll declutter myself. And no quarterly deliveries—I’ll pick what I need.” No waste.
Xu Dian raised a brow. “Deal.”
As she straightened his collar, her fingers grazed his Adam’s apple. His grip on her earlobe tightened.
Meng Ying yanked his shirt.
Xu Dian smirked. “Problem?”
“Let go.”
His fingers trailed lower, skimming the edge of her collar.
Meng Ying’s breath hitched.
Xu Dian feigned innocence: “Hmm?”
The enclosed closet amplified the tension—until a shrill ringtone shattered the moment.
The mood evaporated.
Xu Dian yanked out his phone, glared at the screen, and stalked to the corner to answer. Meng Ying hastily adjusted her collar and fled to the bedroom, pausing at the study doorway.
His study was austere—dark wood shelves against cold-toned walls. She meant to walk past, but a glimpse of her own name on a magazine spine made her freeze.
She stepped inside.
The shelf was meticulously organized by date. The earliest issues—obscure shoots from her debut era, ones even she’d forgotten—were all there. Then, an entire row of that photoshoot: the earring-and-eyeliner spread.
She pulled the most worn copy.
It fell open to the interview:
Q: Ever experienced love at first sight?
A: Yes.
Q: When?
A: University.
Years ago at Shanshui Bay, she’d seen this magazine with a lighter marking the page.
Now, the margins were covered in handwritten notes:
18.4
Drove past Xinyue again.
18.5
Didn’t see her at the show. Heart actually hurt.
18.6
Zhou Yang snuck photos from Fotuo Mountain. Looked anyway. Self-torture.
18.7
She’ll come back.
18.8
Osmanthus petals all over my car.
18.9
Underestimated women. Overestimated myself.
18.10
Forced myself through Nine Heavens. Just to see her. No other reason.
18.11
Would drink hangover soup for every meal.
18.12
Attempt #??? to add her on WeChat.
19.01
Asked a male classmate from her department: “Know Meng Ying?” He said, “Of course—who doesn’t?” Regret.
19.02
Two more months.
19.03
One more month.
The entries stopped there, leaving only stray dots—ellipses of waiting. His handwriting was chaotic, strokes deep like he’d pressed too hard.
Meng Ying closed the magazine.
If Xu Qing were here, she’d say: “Some people move on in a year. Others spend that year drowning.”
She shoved it back just as footsteps approached. In her rush, her heel caught—
“Ah—!”
Xu Dian lunged, catching her mid-fall. He crushed her against the sofa, his heartbeat wild against her ear.
“Why wear heels at home?” he gritted out.
Meng Ying nuzzled his collarbone. “Mm.”
His pulse hadn’t slowed. She peeked up, kissed his jaw—
—then bit her lip.
Fire.
Xu Dian’s restraint snapped. He kissed her like oxygen didn’t exist.
Then—
DING DING DING—
The doorbell screamed through the villa.
Meng Ying jerked back. Xu Dian clapped hands over her ears. “No one’s here,” he growled, pinning her to the bookshelf.
Wood creaked.
“Xu Dian—”
“Call me *husband*.”
Fabric rustled—
—until footsteps pounded up the stairs.
They froze.
Xu Dian yanked her dress down and shielded her with his body, snarling at the intruders: “OUT.”
A crowd gaped in the doorway:
Zhao Qiao at the front, Xu Yi beside her, Zhou Yang grinning like an idiot—and Auntie Liu, whose eyes bulged at Xu Dian’s disheveled shirt and the very hidden Meng Ying in his arms.
Zhou Yang whistled. “Damn, broad daylight—”
Zhao Qiao smacked him. The mob scrambled downstairs.
After that day, Xu Dian confiscated Auntie Liu’s keys and upgraded the villa’s security to facial recognition, with strict access schedules programmed in.
Auntie Liu smiled warmly. “This is perfect—now I won’t accidentally intrude.”
Zhao Qiao, however, was devastated. “No more surprise visits?! My daughter-in-law! My heart aches!”
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