092 A Different Name?

In the end, as expected, Mu Qingcheng was hurriedly ushered out of the ward by Mu Qing, whose behavior was uncharacteristically forceful.

At that moment, inside the elevator—

Mu Qingcheng and Si Qingchen stood at the back, while Si Nan and Si Bei, stern-faced and as imposing as a mountain wall, blocked the front, side by side. Their presence deterred many would-be passengers; ultimately, only the four of them entered the elevator. Fortunately, the elevator was narrow to begin with, so their exclusivity did not amount to wasting public resources.

Contrary to expectations, Si Qingchen’s departure did not attract much attention; he brought only two attendants. This surprised Mu Qingcheng, who couldn’t resist teasing him, “I didn’t expect Young Master Si to be so low-key. Do you always travel without an entourage?”

Si Qingchen caught the nuance in her words and suddenly turned, leaning in close to her face. Mu Qingcheng was startled by how abruptly his visage filled her vision, instinctively retreating to the side. But after only a couple of steps, her back bumped against the elevator railing.

Si Qingchen pressed forward, raising his hands to lightly rest on either side of her shoulders, locking her in his embrace with blatant disregard for his subordinates’ presence.

Mu Qingcheng’s eyes widened, her cheeks quickly tinged with a delicate blush. She wanted to push him away but hesitated, unsure how to go about it. After a moment’s awkwardness, she managed to protest softly, “Si Qingchen, what are you doing?”

“Weren’t you the one picking a fight, hmm?”

“How was I?” Her little scheme exposed, the girl softened immediately, biting her lip and blinking nervously. She looked like a lost fawn, glancing at the imposing pair nearby, then glaring at the unabashed man before her.

Si Qingchen suddenly realized that, ever since that night’s attack, the distance between them had subtly narrowed. The girl who had always wrapped herself in layers of guard was now, unknowingly, revealing her true colors—tender, sweet, and so fresh he could hardly contain himself.

He finally understood why poets likened young girls to unripe fruit: the first taste is indeed… irresistible.

…

“Si Qingchen, get up already!” Now, watching the descending numbers on the elevator display, Mu Qingcheng grew anxious, terrified of being seen like this. She frowned and urged him, but was met with his deep, amused smile as he leaned in again, closing the gap between them until it was nearly nonexistent. In a low voice, he said, “I’ll move if you promise me one thing.”

They were so close now that, as he spoke, his nose brushed hers, sending Mu Qingcheng into complete disarray. Her hands unconsciously twisted the hem of her clothes, all composure lost.

Si Qingchen didn’t rush her, patiently waiting. His gaze wandered hotly across her face, lingering and returning, suffused with intimacy.

…

After all, Mu Qingcheng was only twenty. Fierce in conflict, but helpless when it came to matters of the heart—especially with a man ten years her senior. After a long moment, she steeled herself, adopting a tragic expression as though about to make a heroic sacrifice, closed her eyes, and said, “Go on.”

He chuckled softly, unable to help himself, and reached up to ruffle her hair, speaking with the gentle teasing reserved for a cherished pet, “Could you stop calling me Si Qingchen all the time?”

“What should I call you, then?”

“Hm,” he pretended to ponder seriously, then suddenly hooked his arm around her neck and drew her closer. He whispered something in her ear, and her face instantly flushed scarlet.

After more than ten seconds, she finally, shy as a kitten, whispered, “Brother Chen…”