Hearing Lin Ran's words, Luo Yao, lying on the bed, curled her lips into a charming smile.
"Oh? Ran, your hands are getting a little restless."
If anyone else dared to touch her like this, they’d already be a corpse.
"Can’t help it—this addictive texture is impossible to resist," Lin Ran murmured as he massaged her, savoring the silky smoothness beneath his fingertips.
How blind and deaf had he been before? Failing to cherish such a wonderful wife.
Even someone like Luo Yao, a perpetual motion machine, could feel a hint of exhaustion.
Just spending the day with her, Lin Ran had deeply realized this.
Comforted, she grew drowsy and slowly drifted off to sleep.
The pain truly seemed to ease.
Getting Luo Yao to sleep like this was an achievement in itself.Lin Ran silently vowed to use this method often, especially during their time in Shanghai.
The next morning, Lin Ran woke to find Luo Yao still nestled in his arms.
It was rare for her to laze in bed—getting her to do so wasn’t easy.
Of course, Luo Yao hadn’t stayed in bed because she was asleep; she’d been awake for a while.
She just couldn’t bring herself to leave Lin Ran’s embrace.
The warmth of the blankets was like spring sunlight, utterly soothing.
Seeing her eyes still closed, Lin Ran assumed she was asleep and didn’t disturb her, instead taking the time to study his beloved closely.
Luo Yao’s skin was flawless, so perfect that even up close, not a single blemish could be seen. Her breathing was even, her beautiful eyelashes resting peacefully.
Lin Ran leaned in closer until their breaths mingled, their faces so near that not even a finger could fit between them.
Suddenly, Luo Yao opened her eyes, startling Lin Ran.
Then, without hesitation, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
"Morning kiss."
Lin Ran chuckled. "You stole my move—and my line."
Luo Yao nuzzled against his chest habitually, as if this were her preferred way of "washing her face."
"If you can do it, so can I."
His wife was always right. How could she ever be wrong? She just loved him too much.
"So you were awake."
"Mhm... yeah—"
Once she’d had her fill of snuggling, Luo Yao stretched out her arms, and Lin Ran effortlessly lifted her up.
For the first time, Luo Yao realized how blissful it felt to linger in bed.
They didn’t know how other couples behaved, but if love were a crime, they’d surely be sentenced to a lifetime of solitude.
This kind of love existed only in fantasies and sci-fi movies—yet they’d somehow achieved it.
During breakfast, Liu Meng arrived.
Luo Yao had an extra meal prepared for her, much to the envy of the others.
What an honor it was to dine with the mistress of the house!
In truth, Luo Yao just wanted to squeeze every minute out of Liu Meng afterward, making up for the time lost to her lazy morning.
"Eat in silence, sleep without words"—that might be others’ rule, but Luo Yao had never followed such formalities.
In fact, if not for Lin Ran feeding her, she’d eat incredibly fast due to her aversion to food.
A habit ingrained since childhood.
When you grew up fighting for every bite, speed became second nature.
In that dark place, you grabbed whatever was edible, taste be damned.
Her anorexia had crept in little by little from those days.
Even after achieving success, food held no appeal.
But lately, Lin Ran had been spoiling her palate. Thanks to his efforts, Luo Yao was starting to see food differently.
At the very least, it was something that made Lin Ran dote on her—especially when he cooked himself. The flavors were delicious then.
Liu Meng began reporting the day’s schedule as Luo Yao listened and delegated tasks.
Uncle Fu, ever tactful, dismissed all the servants, including himself.
Jiang Feihua left too, though resentment simmered in her heart.
Especially toward Uncle Fu—her displeasure with him grew.
Who was he, a butler from the Kyoto estate, to order around the staff of the Shanghai mansion?
Still, she kept a professional smile plastered on her face, saying nothing.
Lin Ran was the only one exempt from leaving during Luo Yao’s work discussions, so he learned her agenda for the day.
That morning, the assistant team would continue their assault on Samsung Group. But by afternoon, the offensive would halt, and Luo Yao would attend a crucial bidding event—the most important part of their trip to Shanghai.
Securing this project would turn Samsung’s alliance with the three major families into a joke.
Hearing that Luo Yao would stay at the estate all morning, Lin Ran was thrilled.
"Yao, what would you like for lunch? I’ll cook it myself."
For the first time, Luo Yao answered with specific cravings.
"I want sausage and scrambled eggs, papaya milk, and imported steak."
Lin Ran shot her an incredulous look. He’d asked out of habit, never expecting her to actually express interest in food.
A mixed East-West meal?
He couldn’t help but feel joy—his wife’s anorexia seemed to be improving.
"Got it. Focus on work—I’ll make sure you get everything you asked for."
Luo Yao’s affection was practically overflowing.
Reluctantly, she cast one last glance at Lin Ran before heading off to work.
Just then, Lin Ran spoke up. "Can I stay with you? I don’t want to be apart."
"Of course. Wherever I am, you’re welcome by my side."
Lin Ran scratched his head awkwardly. "Actually, sitting works fine too."
He accompanied her to the office, and though Luo Yao didn’t say it aloud, her heart swelled with happiness.
Throughout her work, Lin Ran stayed by her side, massaging her shoulders, rubbing her legs, and feeding her snacks during brief breaks.
Liu Meng, having worked with Luo Yao for so long, could barely take it.
She grumbled inwardly, "No way I’m suffering this sweetness alone."
So, she opened the door between the assistant team and the office, force-feeding them another hefty dose of affection.
When the time came, Lin Ran returned to the villa and embraced his role as a househusband.
Since Luo Yao had actually requested a meal, he had to put extra care into it.
The Shanghai staff had never seen Lin Ran cook—only in livestream replays. As for the taste...
Rumor had it the entire production crew had collapsed afterward.
But watching his movements now, he seemed quite skilled.
Even the professional chefs were impressed—not because he could cook, but because a man of his wealth still did it himself.
One could only wonder if he handled his own bathroom trips too.
"Master Lin, you’re quite the expert."