A Twisted Love Affair-Chapter 104: Sure, a pretty sister_1.

After rounding the screen, Shen Jing’s fingertips momentarily curled as she caught her first glimpse of Zhou Luchen.

Her steps halted.

That heart-soothing laughter truly belonged to him.

He sat next to the old lady, his presence overwhelming. His long legs, clad in black trousers, stretched out boldly as he idly tapped an exquisite meridian massage hammer in his hand against his palm.

KNOCK, KNOCK.

The sound was lax and nonchalant.

The antique sandalwood sofa, rich with charm, was cushioned with a velvety black seat pad.

Zhou Luchen seemed not to notice her, his lips slightly pursed, his brows unmoved.

Shen Jing rarely saw Zhou Luchen like this, looking every inch the filial grandson as he kept the old lady company: drinking tea with her, massaging her shoulders, and chatting.

In Shen Jing’s mind, he never had the habit of serving others, no matter who the guest was, always exuding the aura of an unapproachable young master.

Shen Jing withdrew her gaze. She hoped he wasn’t expecting her to kowtow to him twice.

Upon seeing Shen Jing, the old lady’s cheerful smile subtly faded. She asked Zhou Xiangqun, who was silently reading a publication beside her, "Who is this friend of yours?"

Zhou Xiangqun flipped a page of the publication, his expression unchanged as he replied, "The young lady who just won the championship. Xu Meijun’s apprentice."

The old lady let out a drawn-out "Oh."

Shen Jing politely greeted the old lady, "Good day, Madam."

The graceful and dignified old lady adjusted the dark green shawl on her shoulder without looking at her, only responding with a noncommittal "hmm."

Shen Jing looked toward Zhou Luchen. His expression was coolly indifferent, causing Shen Jing to swallow the greeting she had intended to offer.

He was good at pretending not to know her, ignoring her, neglecting her. Was he still giving her the silent treatment?

Shen Jing hummed inwardly in discontent.

Zhou Xiangqun stood up, gestured for Shen Jing to sit, and personally poured her tea. "Have a seat. Drink some tea first."

She couldn’t tell what kind of seat cushion it was, but it was quite comfortable. She took the tea with both hands and said, "Thank you."

Her softly spoken "thank you" was almost excessively demure.

In the spacious Wangfeng Courtyard, coal fires burned. Plum catkin-like fluff drifted on the breeze. Beyond the rockery, one could gaze upon the red palatial buildings not far away.

In this venerable, scholarly household, Shen Jing always felt uneasy.

Too quiet, too solemn.

The rock tea in her hand was too strong for her; its burnt sugar and earthy flavors were overwhelming.

She wasn’t cut out for such refined things; she truly couldn’t appreciate this rock tea.

She merely took a sip and returned the cup to its place.

Zhou Luchen leaned back slightly, setting down the massage hammer without a sound. A pot of flower tea was silently pushed in front of her.

She froze, looking at Zhou Luchen.

But he maintained his indifferent facade and didn’t look back at her.

The old lady took a sip of rock tea. From behind her pearl-adorned reading glasses, she glanced at Zhou Luchen. "Luchen, why are you silent? Have you suddenly become shy?"

Could it be? Shen Jing wondered for a dull moment, then lifted her head to look at Zhou Luchen.

He slightly lifted his thin eyelids to meet her gaze. A smile curled at one corner of his lips as he uttered a lazy "Hmm," exuding an air of rakish charm. "Quite a pretty little sister."

The words "little sister" carried three parts teasing, three parts flirtation, and three parts the implication of addressing a stranger.

Shen Jing averted her eyes and replied leisurely, "It’s our first meeting. Thank you for the compliment."

He let out an exceedingly faint scoff, his gaze fixed unblinkingly upon her, though he remained silent.

The old lady remained silent. In her eyes, Zhou Luchen had always been a bit of a libertine, so she simply regarded it as his casual way of greeting.

Zhou Xiangqun, therefore, didn’t clarify whether these two were a couple or not.

Zhou Xiangqun was preoccupied with work and uninterested in the subtle shift in atmosphere. After all, he had invited the guest.

He didn’t want to go out of his way to care for the young lady. Second Young Master Zhou, the one who mattered, was present and would certainly look after his own guest; there was no need for him to worry.

Zhou Xiangqun stood up. "I’ll go check if Uncle’s meal is ready. Please help me look after my guest."

Zhou Luchen didn’t respond, idly watching the snow accumulated on the rockery.

At that moment, a Monk in a kasaya entered and performed a standard Buddhist gesture of respect. The old lady nodded her head benevolently.

The Monk went to the side room, lit incense, and sat on a meditation cushion. He began to tap a wooden fish and chant sutras.

Shen Jing remembered that today was the Little New Year according to the lunar calendar. The old lady must have invited him to pray for blessings.

Looking at the old lady again, she had closed her eyes to rest, quietly listening to the sound of the sutras.

Second Young Master Zhou, who had been calmly rinsing the tea set, unexpectedly gripped the armrest of Shen Jing’s Taishi Chair, pulling her, chair and all, closer to him.

Shen Jing’s lustrous eyes widened as she looked blankly at Second Young Master Zhou. Within a fraction of a second, a slight, teasing smile touched his lips. He continued to rinse the tea set, his long fingers holding the lid to warm the cup and skim the froth.

His movements were tranquil and abstemious. Amidst the tea steam, his long fingers appeared exceptionally striking.

But what did he mean by that?

Was he taking advantage of the old lady having her eyes closed, thinking she wouldn’t notice? She was the matriarch, after all, and looked incredibly shrewd and worldly-wise.

As a guest, she sat perfectly upright. Despite the young master’s teasingly frivolous actions, she didn’t dare make a sound for fear of disturbing the old lady listening to the sutras.

Zhou Luchen sipped his tea. "Do you believe in Buddhism?"

Shen Jing shook her head. "I don’t understand it."

It was her first time hearing it.

She had no desires or requests; she had never entered a temple.

Zhou Luchen leaned down slightly, his lips close to Shen Jing’s ear, his voice low and alluring. "Yonghe Palace is very efficacious."

He leaned in so close that his warm breath fanned across her ear, its ambiguous lingering tone stirring heat within her heart.

Shen Jing glanced at the old lady from the corner of her eye; thankfully, the latter kept her eyes firmly shut.

Seeing her nervousness, her blushing face, and how she shyly lowered her head as if wanting to speak but too embarrassed, Zhou Luchen’s thin lips curved into a smile. He took an interested sip of the rock tea from his cup.

She asked quietly, "Will you take me there?"

Zhou Luchen put down the teacup. "No time."

Heartless man. Shen Jing fell silent.

After that, Zhou Luchen engrossed himself in sipping tea, leisurely listening to the low chanting of sutras, and paid her no more attention.

Her waist had gone numb from sitting, so she got up and said she needed to go to the restroom, following an older female attendant out.

Stepping over the threshold and out of Zhou Luchen’s sight, she exhaled a breath of relief, feeling the snowflakes falling from above.

There were few people around.

Shen Jing stood behind the rockery, letting the snow fall on her, her fingers lifting her scarf slightly.

She was a little afraid to go back in and face Zhou Luchen directly. She couldn’t figure out what he meant; he was always so hot and cold. When he was warm, he’d call her Ajing or ’baby,’ but when he was cold, he was colder than snow.

With her hands in her coat pockets, she asked the attendant, feigning ignorance, "Is that your family’s Second Young Master?"

The attendant replied, "Yes, he also just came over to pay New Year’s respects today."

Quite a coincidence.

Shen Jing wasn’t one to pry into the private affairs of others.

The attendant then asked, "Miss Shen, are you still going to the restroom?"

Shen Jing turned around. "I don’t want to go anymore. I’d like to watch the snow. You can go about your tasks."

The attendant acknowledged with an "Mm" and turned to leave.

Not far away, Zhou Luchen lazily leaned against a square pillar, taking out a lighter to leisurely light the cigarette dangling from his lips.

His craving hit, so he stepped out for a smoke to relieve his ennui.

In front of the old lady, he wouldn’t touch nicotine.

As he exhaled smoke, that delicate and beautiful figure in the snow, through the swirling flakes, unexpectedly fell into his sight.

Shen Jing wore a pure white padded coat, a red scarf wrapped around her fine, small face. Snowflakes landed on her, making her cheeks flush red from the cold, giving her a very Korean-drama look.

When she looked at him, she too was smiling—a cold smile.

Zhou Luchen’s brows furrowed imperceptibly.

She must have been cold. She brought her hands to her lips, rubbing them together and huffing warm air onto them.