Chapter 179: Do you love me?

Lu Zhaoye really couldn't be bothered to argue with him, like fighting with a child—losing was embarrassing, winning was even more embarrassing.

Wen Lao took the initiative to have a few people stay for dinner at Chen Yue Fu, and he specially asked Zhou Yinhe's opinion.

Everyone present turned to look, and Zhou Yinhe fell silent under their gaze.

Wen Lao smiled and said, "Xiao Wu? Why are you spacing out?"

"……" Zhou Yinhe pressed his lips, nodded slightly, and said, "Sure."

Ke Chengyu casually rested his hand on his mouth, but he kept trembling—clearly trying not to laugh.

Zhou Yinhe stretched out his long legs and kicked Ke Chengyu, but couldn't stop his laughter.

Besides the fish pond, the backyard also had a long glass corridor, at the end of which was a sunroom with a projector and a beanbag.

The steward had the sunroom tidied up, sent the excess items to the storeroom, and brought in a long table to place in the middle; on cool autumn evenings, one wanted to enjoy the night view while staying warm, making this the best choice.

The more people, the livelier; Qin Lao and Wen Lao, now older, most enjoyed having these juniors bustle around them—their thinking wasn't outdated, and they let the youngsters play however they liked, even taking interest in the juniors' drinking-game antics.

Lu Zhaoye stood at the corridor, slowly opened a window and smoked; seeing Wen Ling approach, he curled his lips.

"Are you looking for me to settle scores with your boyfriend?"

Wen Ling rolled her eyes, leaned against the nearby windowsill, glanced at Zhou Yinhe being pulled into a game, took the cigarette box and lighter Lu Zhaoye handed her, and lit one for herself.

"I thought you'd quit smoking for Zhou Yinhe."

Wen Ling nodded: "I really did quit, but that doesn't stop me from keeping you company for a smoke."

Lu Zhaoye chuckled lightly; after Wen Ling exhaled, she asked, "Did you find anything?"

"Nothing turned up." Lu Zhaoye stubbed out his cigarette, spread his fingers, swept the hair hanging over his forehead back, and said coldly, "I had people follow Zhao Xingtang for a long time; she met this man once, but when I checked his residence and any leads, I found nothing—it's as if he vanished into thin air."

He lifted his gaze to Qi Zhan, who sat beside Jiang Jibai watching Jiang Jibai's hand of cards, and said in a low voice, "Qi Zhan must already know—since they returned to the country, the two haven't met; I had their call records checked, and they haven't called each other, not even sent a single message."

"Maybe they're just not used to phone calls, preferring video and voice chats."

"They're nothing like you." Lu Zhaoye glanced at her downcast eyes, "Before, those two were on the phone every day."

Wen Ling pursed her lips and made a sound; she simply dislikes phone calls—she can only receive them, and if she can voice-chat, she does.

Lu Zhaoye looked at her through the thin smoke for a long time, until he felt an icy-arrow gaze fixed on him for a while, then he shifted his eyes to its source.

Zhou Yinhe stared coldly at Lu Zhaoye, the cards in his hand gradually crumpling; Wen Lao, standing behind him, noticed his oddness, gave a light chuckle, and patted his shoulder.

Having come to his senses, Zhou Yinhe withdrew his gaze, lowered his eyes and kept playing; when the round ended and he was about to yield his seat, Wen Lao pressed him down again and said softly, "Xiao Wu, keep going."

"I……" Zhou Yinhe pressed his lips, reluctant.

"Keep going, don't worry."

Zhou Yinhe exhaled, and as he picked up the cards before him, his peripheral vision still lingered on Lu Zhaoye.

Lu Zhaoye gave a helpless smile, tossed Wen Ling aside, returned alone to the sunroom, dragged over a stool, and sat directly beside Zhou Yinhe.

"Go ahead and play—I'm sitting right here beside you, so now you don't have to worry I'll go find Ah Ling, right?"

Zhou Yinhe glanced at him and finally relaxed.

His voice was low; others hardly heard it, only Wen Lao nearby, who raised his hand and patted Lu Zhaoye's back, meaning: "You know he's petty, why are you provoking him?"

Lu Zhaoye returned a look: "It's fun."

Wen Lao had nothing to say; he'd always thought he kept up with today's youth, but now he couldn't fathom what this brat was thinking.

After the gathering dispersed, Wen Ling returned to her room first; by the time Zhou Yinhe had seen Wen Lao and Qin Lao off to next door and come back, she had already showered and was waiting for him at the stairwell.

Zhou Yinhe lifted his eyes and saw her attire—a light purple slip dress, now loosely hanging on her.

"Are you cold?"

Wen Ling glared at him, "No sense of humor."

Zhou Yinhe knew she must have just seen him get jealous and came to soothe him, but what worried him most was whether she'd catch a cold.

"All right, back to the room." Zhou Yinhe took her hand and walked, saying, "I haven't been jealous in ages."

Just after seeing Wen Lao back to his room, Wen Lao kept him and said quite a bit.

"Ah Ling and Zhao Ye grew up together; Zhao Ye's thoughts are unknown to Ah Ling, and he never intended to tell her, so you don't need to worry that Ah Ling will leave you for him, nor get jealous whenever you see them talking—it's just sibling banter. You and Ah Ling's feelings are clear to you; you know how much she likes you, and you won't miss it."

Wen Ling followed behind him, hearing this, she let out a soft hum: "I don't believe it; just now I didn't know who it was, but I kept staring at Lu Zhaoye."

"I don't know," Zhou Yinhe shook his head, "Anyway, it wasn't me."

"Not you? Really not you?" Wen Ling stepped in front of him, wanting to see his shy expression, but she underestimated Zhou Yinhe's thick skin; at that moment his face was utterly serious, and he said earnestly, "Really not me."

"Thick-skinned, it's obviously you." Wen Ling tiptoed to pinch his cheek; Zhou Yinhe laughed, bent over, and scooped her up like a child.

Consequently, Wen Ling was considerably taller than him; at this moment, looking down at his face, she ultimately couldn't bring herself to pinch hard.

Back in the room, Zhou Yinhe pressed her against the wall and whispered, "Do you love me?"

Wen Ling stared blankly for a moment, then asked doubtfully, "Why are you suddenly asking this?"

"No reason, I just want to know." Zhou Yinhe inched closer to her face and whispered, "Go on, tell me—do you love me or not?"

"I love you." Wen Ling said with a light laugh, her gaze flickering as she stared straight into Zhou Yinhe's pupils, clearly seeing her own reflection in them; her smile gradually faded, and she said earnestly, "I love you, I love you."

Zhou Yinhe couldn't help but lift the corners of his mouth, embraced Wen Ling, buried his face in her shoulder, and asked, "Then are you willing to marry me?"

"Is this a proposal?" Wen Ling rested her fingers on the back of his head and gently massaged his scalp.

"No, I just want to know—if I were to propose to you, would you say yes?"

"You're telling me now—what else could be a surprise?!" Wen Ling, frustrated, grabbed his hair with a bit of force.