11
I stood up to go to the restroom, but I hadn't even made it halfway when I suddenly heard someone shout:
“Watch out!”
I looked up and saw a metal shelf beside me had been knocked over and was toppling toward me at terrifying speed.
I didn't even have time to react.
In an instant, I was pulled into a warm embrace.
The familiar scent of musk enveloped me.
A crash rang out.
The metal shelf fell.
Right above me.
A pained groan sounded above my head.
“Lục Tầm!”
He held me tightly against his chest, shielding me from the impact.
I looked up, my gaze meeting his face. His features tightened slightly, and his expression was so serious that I almost imagined… he really was worried about me.
“Are you all right?”
He lowered his head to look at me.
I shook my head, but then noticed something trickling down the back of his head.
My eyes froze.
“Y-you’re bleeding!”
Thin trails of red slid along the contours of his face and down his collar.
Lục Tầm lifted a hand to touch the back of his head, then glanced at the blood on his fingers.
“It’s nothing.”
With that, he stood and reached a hand toward me as if to help me up.
But for some reason, just as his hand was about to touch me, he slowly drew it back.
Just then, Cẩu Tuân rushed over.
“Are you okay?”
I shook my head.
With Cẩu Tuân helping me up, I hurried to check Lục Tầm's injury, but met his indifferent gaze.
“Idiot.”
He looked at me, his voice icy:
“Couldn't you get out of the way?”
That moment of concern just now… had probably only been my imagination.
Lục Tầm didn't even bother with the blood on his hand. His voice was flat:
“Don’t get the wrong idea. I just don’t want anyone getting hurt at my party.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Đàm Vi came over.
“Are you okay?”
There was unmistakable worry in her voice.
Lục Tầm replied, his voice a little gentler now:
“I’m fine. It’s just a minor injury.”
Then he let her lead him away to get bandaged up.
From beginning to end, he didn't look at me again.
12
After the party, Cẩu Tuân disappeared for days, not even coming home.
Whenever I asked where he'd been, he refused to say.
Meanwhile, my dad had been busy lately preparing a belated first-birthday party for Ấm Áp.
She was already a year and a month old, but when my dad heard that she had never had a proper birthday celebration while abroad, he immediately felt sorry for his granddaughter.
So he insisted on throwing her a lavish party to make up for it.
No matter how much I tried to talk him out of it, he wouldn't listen, so I had to go along with it.
But on the day of the party, Cẩu Tuân stirred up trouble again.
He invited Đàm Vi.
And he invited Lục Tầm, too.
The moment my dad saw Lục Tầm at the door, his expression darkened.
But Lục Tầm was quick on his feet and immediately presented the gift he'd prepared.
“This is a longevity lock for Ấm Áp. May she grow up safe, healthy, and free from worry.”
Just that simple sentence was enough to soothe my dad's anger.
He gave a cold snort but accepted it anyway.
“At least you came prepared. Thank you.”
“Come in.”
And just like that, Lục Tầm strode right into my house.
Luckily, since today was Ấm Áp's birthday party, my dad couldn't introduce Cẩu Tuân to him.
At least for now, the truth hadn't been exposed.
But…
That guy really had no sense of restraint.
Halfway through the party, he sneaked over to Đàm Vi's side again.
The two of them… seemed awfully familiar with each other.
I started to wonder—
Had he been away from home all these days because he'd gone to see Đàm Vi?
My gaze drifted to one side.
I realized Lục Tầm was looking that way, too.
His hand unconsciously brushed over the Buddhist prayer beads on his wrist.
He stood backlit, and from where I was, I couldn't make out his expression.
But perhaps… he was disappointed.
Unlike Lục Tầm's aloofness, Cẩu Tuân was a smooth talker, good at making girls happy.
Just then, Lục Tầm looked away and spoke in a casual tone:
“Do all women like men like that? The kind who know how to charm them and sweet-talk them?”
Afraid he might be upset, I hurriedly shook my head:
“Not necessarily. Some people like cheerful, outgoing types, but others prefer someone steady and quiet.”
Like me, for example.
I liked his cold, distant manner, as if he couldn't care less about the world.
Lục Tầm was an exceptionally composed man—he didn't talk much, his emotions were steady, and he always gave people the impression of being distant and untouchable, like someone who didn't belong in this world.
But for that very reason, the moment I pulled him down from his pedestal, the moment he lost control, became more frenzied and consumed by passion than ever.
Lục Tầm suddenly asked:
“What about you?”
His low voice brought me back to the present.
When I looked up, I met his deep gaze.
He watched me intently, his eyes dark and unreadable.
But before I could answer, he suddenly gave a soft laugh, his voice full of mockery:
“Never mind. You don't have to answer.”
“You’re married, after all. Asking you that… was pointless.”
13
Every first-birthday party has one indispensable tradition—the ritual of choosing an object to predict the child's future.
My dad had put a lot of effort into preparing it, laying out all sorts of things, from savings books, real estate deeds, and supercar keys to pens, ink, and books…
He'd even hired a photographer to capture every moment.
Everyone watched Ấm Áp intently, curious to see what she'd choose.
Under everyone's expectant gaze, Ấm Áp crawled past a stack of property deeds, ignored several car keys, and even passed right over the office pens and ink.
Just as my dad was about to pick her up and turn her around to choose again, Ấm Áp crawled straight over to Lục Tầm.
She made her way past every obstacle, then wrapped both arms around his leg and babbled—
“Da… Da-da…”
The whole room fell silent.
Cẩu Tuân and I stared at each other, stunned, not even knowing how to react.
When I turned around, I found Lục Tầm looking at me, too.
Without a word, he bent down and picked Ấm Áp up, his movements incredibly gentle.
He set her back on the selection mat and asked patiently:
“Be good, Ấm Áp. Which one do you like?”
Ấm Áp waved her chubby little hands, then… reached out and grabbed the Buddhist prayer beads on his wrist.
The atmosphere grew a little awkward.
Fortunately, someone joked to break the tension:
“The little princess sure has good taste! Isn’t she choosing a bodhisattva’s blessing?”
Lục Tầm only smiled faintly, gently patting the top of the little girl’s head with his large hand.
Without hesitation, he took the Buddhist prayer beads off his wrist and placed them in Ấm Áp’s tiny palm.
“Then you can have them.”
He looked down at her, his expression unusually gentle.
“I hope the Bodhisattva will watch over you, Ấm Áp.”
Then he picked her up and walked over to me.
Then he handed her to Cẩu Tuân.
14
After Ấm Áp’s first-birthday party, I didn’t see Lục Tầm again for a long time.
I always felt an emptiness inside, as if something were missing.
The Buddhist prayer beads Lục Tầm had worn for years were now on my wrist.
Ấm Áp was still too little to wear them.
Besides, I couldn’t help feeling guilty—the beads had been a gift from Đàm Vi to him, and they meant a great deal.
He probably only gave them to Ấm Áp that day because there were so many people around and he couldn’t refuse.
After thinking it over, I decided to take the beads back to him myself.
The Lục family home.
“Big sis?”
Aunt Lục cheerfully took my hand, as warm and welcoming as ever.
“Did you come to see A Tầm? He’s sleeping upstairs.”
Unlike my dad, Lục Tầm’s parents were especially fond of me, even though our two families were fierce rivals in business.
“Go on up and see him.”
As she spoke, she even pushed me toward the stairs, then turned back to tell the housekeeper to prepare some fruit.
I had no choice but to steel myself and go upstairs.
I knocked.
After a long while, a hoarse, tired voice came from inside:
“Come in.”
I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Lục Tầm’s room was always simple. Aside from the bed and nightstand, there was hardly anything else.
He was curled up under the covers, his face flushed and his eyes tightly shut.
I stopped and reached out to feel his forehead—
He was burning up.
He had a fever.
Maybe my hand was too cold; he furrowed his brow and slowly opened his eyes.
Our eyes met.
For some reason, I suddenly felt a little nervous.
He looked at me for a moment, then suddenly muttered:
“Am I about to burn out my brain from this fever? Now I’m seeing things…”