Chapter 39: Little Kitten, What Are You Sad About?

The old lady was nearing seventy, yet her health was robust and her spirit lively.
“Sihan, when are you bringing your grandmother a granddaughter-in-law?” she asked.
Mu Sihan set down his chopsticks, his tall, wild frame reclining against the back of his chair. His fathomless black eyes swept toward the petite woman eating quietly across from him.
Noticing her long, thick lashes lowered as she ate, he pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, his brows arching with a hint of a mischievous smile. He looked like a devilish spirit from the mortal world.
Nan Zhi, made uneasy by his blatant stare, lifted her lashes and shot him a discreet glare.
Seeing she dared glare back, the corners of his lips curled in a wild, wicked grin.
The old lady sipped her soup and, upon hearing Sihan’s laughter, gave him a puzzled look. “You rascal, your grandmother asks when you’ll bring home a granddaughter-in-law, and you laugh? What’s so funny?”
The large hand Sihan had draped over the back of his chair now brushed his lips, where the faint, sweet scent of a woman seemed to linger. He replied with a lazy, roguish smile, “Grandma, if you keep asking about my future wife, my little kitten here will get angry.”
The old lady was utterly at a loss.
Nan Zhi felt uneasy, worried that the arrogant man across from her would expose her.
She wasn’t exactly timid, but in front of him, she always felt an almost desperate urge to run far, far away.
Throwing him a warning glance, she found he only gave a languid smile. “Little chef, why do you keep staring at me, hmm?”
Nan Zhi almost choked on her rice.
This man… He was truly shameless!
Because of his posture, the black shirt clung to his chest, highlighting his lean, muscular physique. His long fingers rested at his lips, his Adam’s apple moving slightly as he swallowed—a picture of wildness, arrogance, and inexplicable allure.
Nan Zhi had no interest in him; after all, he had almost strangled her the night before. No matter how handsome or seductive he appeared, in her eyes he was nothing short of a demon.
Yet the two young maids standing by in the dining room blushed uncontrollably.
The young master was really breathtakingly handsome.
When Nan Zhi bowed her head and resumed eating, Mu Sihan leaned closer to the table, his long, strong legs nudging hers beneath it.
Startled, Nan Zhi nearly dropped her chopsticks.
She glanced at the man toying with her leg under the table, her delicate brows knitting in annoyance.
“Little chef, don’t you think I’m handsome?” he asked shamelessly.
The old lady noticed Mu Sihan’s constant teasing and rapped his hand with her chopsticks. “You rascal, what’s wrong with you? Why are you picking on little Zhi?”
Mu Sihan feigned grievance. “Grandma, which eye of yours saw me bullying her?”

Nan Zhi saw Mu Sihan’s raised brows and feigned innocence, almost childlike, and she was momentarily dazed.
He might be perverse and annoying, but before his grandmother, he seemed like a boy who refused to grow up.
In this, she envied him a little.
At least he could show his childlike side before his closest elder. As for her, with a mother in poor health and a father who ignored her once he’d gotten what he wanted, she had no safe haven—she could only rely on herself.
After the meal, Nan Zhi went to the kitchen to fetch a fruit platter.
Just as she was about to bring it out, a pair of strong, slender arms wrapped around her from behind.
The man’s muscular chest pressed tightly against her slender back. Before she could react, his warm lips brushed her earlobe. “Kitten, what are you sad about?”
Nan Zhi’s heart leapt in alarm. How could he be so observant? At the table, she had let slip the faintest trace of sadness, but she’d quickly composed herself. Still, he had noticed.