Sharing Dreams with My Bestie's Cousin-Chapter 32 - Support

Chapter 32: Support

Chapter 32: Support

Second floor.

Wen Zhi followed Shang Hexing into an elegant private room.

The waiter didn’t follow, having gone to report to Shang Jing.

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“Why have you come to Jinping Mansion?” Shang Hexing sat down on the sofa.

Wen Zhi stood, “To see Shang Jing.”

Shang Hexing lifted his gaze, “What for?”

Wen Zhi pressed her lips together.

Shang Hexing, “Is it inconvenient to say?”

Wen Zhi was at a loss whether to nod or shake her head. After hesitating for a long while, she answered him, “The madam asked Shang Jing to spend more time with me, saying he could take me out.”

Shang Hexing narrowed his slender eyes, staring at her for a moment, then he raised his hand and tapped the space beside him.

The meaning was clear, he was asking her to sit.

But Wen Zhi dared not sit because, whenever she got close to him, scenes from her dreams would always emerge in her mind.

Her face burnt red with shame and indignation.

“Wen Zhi.” Shang Hexing called her name, “Come here.”

Wen Zhi was visibly uncomfortable, “Mr. Shang, it’s fine, I can stand.”

She could not even bring herself to call him ‘brother’ now.

Little did she know that the more she stubbornly resisted, the darker Shang Hexing’s expression became. Finally, he stood up and stepped toward her with an overwhelming presence.

Wen Zhi was frightened and stepped back. In an instant, Shang Hexing was standing before her.

He didn’t touch her, just stood there, and the disparity in their frames pressed down on her. Wen Zhi was so nervous she didn’t dare to even draw a deep breath, her eyes blinking innocently and evoking sympathy.

“About what happened just now, don’t you have anything to say?” His face was stern and his presence dominating.

Wen Zhi was startled, “Say, what exactly?”

Shang Hexing reminded her, “Xu Shaokun’s kind of people, I wouldn’t normally spare a glance.”

The implication was that he had stopped because of her.

He had taken a stand for her.

Wen Zhi was quick to respond, immediately saying, “Thank you, Mr. Shang.”

Shang Hexing looked down at her, “Thank me for what? For being a busybody?”

“No, no, not at all,” Wen Zhi quickly shook her head, then took a deep breath, “Thank you, Mr. Shang, for helping me out just now.”

Shang Hexing watched her for a few seconds, his gaze nearly piercing her. Just when Wen Zhi could hardly stand it any longer, he finally turned and sat back down on the sofa, the oppressive feeling gradually fading.

He stretched out his hand and tapped the spot beside him, the same gesture as before.

This time Wen Zhi didn’t resist, obediently sitting down next to him.

Then, under Shang Hexing’s expectant gaze, she began to recount the matter, “After Song Yuxing learned of my situation, she feared I wouldn’t have a good place to go, so she took the initiative to introduce her cousin to me, that Associate General Manager Xu just now.”

Shang Hexing raised his hand, closing his eyes, his fingertips massaging his temples to ease the fatigue, and asked her, “Do you like him?”

Wen Zhi sneaked a glance at him, seeing his eyes closed, she deliberately said, “I might consider it.”

Shang Hexing’s fingertips paused.

Her own heart tightened.

He didn’t open his eyes, switched hands, and continued to massage his temples. When he spoke again, his voice contained a hint of coldness, “It seems I was being a busybody after all….”

The last two words hung in the air as a sensation interrupted him.

Shang Hexing slowly opened his eyes.

Wen Zhi was no longer beside him.

She had risen at some point, silently moving behind him, her hands lightly resting on his temples.

He really had lowered his guard around her; he didn’t hear a single movement.

Upon this realization, Shang Hexing’s lips curved into a helpless smile.

“Mr. Shang, I noticed you seemed very tired just now. Is this pressure alright?” Wen Zhi, not knowing how to massage, was trying her best, hoping to please him.

Indeed, the massage wasn’t very good, but Shang Hexing wasn’t bothered. Her fingertips were soft, alternately gentle and firm.

He closed his eyes and said, “You could press a bit harder.”

An ambiguous atmosphere arose, indistinct and confusing.