Chapter Thirty-One: You’re the Last Person Who Gets to Lay a Finger on Her!

“Junior sister, who is this?” Han Ziyu’s eyes flashed with displeasure.

He and Luoshui worked at the same company and, despite knowing each other for so long, had only ever been ordinary friends. Yet now, out of nowhere, a man had appeared and brought Luoshui to his home for dinner?

“My new neighbor. I’m just having a meal at his place,” Luoshui replied.

Han Ziyu’s instincts screamed that something was amiss. An idea sparked in his mind, and he promptly reached out to pat Luoshui’s shoulder.

Luoshui was dressed in a sea-blue camisole dress today, her delicate shoulders exposed. She instinctively drew back, causing his hand to miss her completely.

A flicker of embarrassment crossed Han Ziyu’s face, but he pressed on with his plan, chiding her in a tone thick with ambiguous affection, “I’ve told you so many times, the weather’s cool now; don’t wear so little. What if you catch a cold?”

Then, turning to Qin Mu, he said, “This neighbor of yours, my Luoshui often skips meals for the sake of dieting. Thank you for looking after her today.”

Han Ziyu’s acting was as impeccable as ever—his words carried the teasing intimacy of a couple’s banter.

“Senior brother, don’t say such things,” Luoshui frowned, her brows knitting in protest.

This was exactly the effect Han Ziyu wanted. He glanced sideways, eager to observe Qin Mu’s reaction.

Whether by design or simple indifference, Qin Mu did not respond. Instead, he calmly stood and added more rice to Luoshui’s bowl.

After a moment, Qin Mu finally seemed to notice Han Ziyu at the door. Without even looking his way, he asked, “Luoshui, who’s come to our house?”

Luoshui froze at his words, then immediately smiled sweetly and replied, “It’s my senior brother. He’s here to have me return to the office for overtime.”

“Then hurry back and finish your meal. When you’re done, I’ll drive you over.”

“Mhm. Senior brother, you heard that, right? I’ll be there soon,” Luoshui said.

Han Ziyu’s eye twitched—Qin Mu’s performance was even more natural than his own, as if they truly were a couple. And with just a few words, he had cut off Han Ziyu’s intention to drive Luoshui himself.

Still, Han Ziyu maintained his gentlemanly composure. “Alright then, but make sure you return early. Otherwise, as your senior brother, I’ll be worried about you.”

With that, Han Ziyu quickly took his leave.

Once he’d entered the elevator, Luoshui finally shut the door. For some reason, she felt like a schoolgirl who had been caught misbehaving. She tiptoed to the dining table, head lowered, her hands nervously fiddling in front of her.

“There’s really nothing between him and me,” Luoshui said, aggrieved.

She silently scolded herself for explaining at all, but the thought of leaving it unsaid made her uneasy, as if she’d done something wrong.

It must be because he saved me, she reasoned, though even she found this excuse unconvincing.

“I know,” Qin Mu replied calmly.

Han Ziyu had merely sparred with words, nothing more. Since he hadn’t pressed further, Qin Mu hadn’t bothered to take any real action—he’d simply fabricated a story to send him away in a huff.

Qin Mu was in rare good spirits and didn’t wish to let this triviality spoil his mood.

“Are you really going to drive me there later?” Luoshui probed.

“Of course. Now eat.”

“Alright.”

Luoshui answered readily, her mind already racing with plans on how to put Han Ziyu in his place—and perhaps make it up to Qin Mu as well.

After all, Qin Mu was her savior; she ought to look after her own people first. This was how Luoshui reassured herself.

…

After dinner, once the dishes were washed, Qin Mu drove Luoshui to her company.

Throughout the drive, Luoshui had to guide him at every turn—Qin Mu was completely unfamiliar with the city.

“You mean you don’t even know the illustrious Glorious Film & Arts here in River City?” Luoshui asked in disbelief, beginning to doubt whether Qin Mu was a modern man at all.

“I only returned to River City recently. I was away for ten years,” Qin Mu replied.

Luoshui heard this and, seeing the sincerity in his expression, leaned back in her seat and asked no more. So it was true that Qin Mu hadn’t recognized her as a celebrity before.

“We’re here,” Qin Mu said, parking the car in front of Glorious Film & Arts and helping Luoshui out.

This scene was witnessed by Han Ziyu from a window on the tenth floor. He also caught sight of Qin Mu’s Bugatti Veyron.

“So, just another spoiled rich kid.”

“Does he think he can win over Luoshui with money? Wishful thinking!”

“And now he even dares bring her to the company? Soon he’ll learn what it means to lose all face!”

A sinister grin twisted Han Ziyu’s features.

At that moment, the elevator chimed.

Qin Mu and Luoshui had arrived.

“I’ll drop you off here. I’ll head back now. Call me when you’re done with work, and I’ll come pick you up,” Qin Mu said.

“Don’t leave just yet! Stay with me a little longer.”

Luoshui was fuming inside, cursing Qin Mu for being so dense. How could he be so unconcerned, leaving her alone at the company in the middle of the night?

“Yes, since you’re already here, why not come watch us rehearse?” Han Ziyu interjected, stepping forward with several young, beautiful women trailing behind him.

They were all contracted artists with the company, rarely afforded the opportunity to interact with a star of Han Ziyu’s caliber.