Chapter 345: Sister Celebrates Your Birthday

But Qin Bore had only spoken halfway when she suddenly stopped, as if changing her mind; the corners of her mouth lifted again in a smile, though that smile now held an indescribable tenderness: "When you have time, come often to help me look after the cat and the fish—they seem to like you a lot."

Lin Yuan looked at her expectant eyes, his grip on the cloth bag tightening; the earlier panic in his heart gradually faded, leaving only a warm fullness in his chest, and he nodded firmly: "All right, whenever you need me, I'll come anytime."

Qin Bore saw Lin Yuan to the elevator entrance, and only when the doors closed did a flicker of complexity cross her beautiful eyes.

Qin Bore turned and went back home.

Qin Bore had just shut the door when a light patter of footsteps sounded at her feet.

Sweet Cone's snow‑white fur brushed against her pant leg, then in the next second it leapt up and flung itself into her arms, its fluffy head rubbing insistently against her neck.

Warm cat paws rested on her collar, still a bit sleepy, and a soft "gur‑gur" came from its throat.

Qin Bore freed one hand to support Sweet Cone's hindquarters, while the other stroked its back gently, her voice soft as if steeped in warm water: "Sweet Cone, do you like big brother?"

Sweet Cone stopped rubbing, its amber eyes blinking as if it truly understood.

It tilted its head slightly, its ear tips twitching lightly, then nudged Qin Bore's palm a little, as if nodding, and immediately let out a soft "meow."

Seeing this, Qin Bore couldn't help laughing, her fingertips lightly pinching its tiny ears: "Then let him come see you more often, okay?"

Sweet Cone immediately meowed again, burying its head back into her embrace and lightly scratching her clothes with its paws, looking utterly content.

The warm yellow light of the entryway fell on the person and cat, making even the air feel soft.

Qin Bore carried Sweet Cone to the sofa and sat down, continuing to stroke its fur as she asked softly: "Sweet Cone, what do you think of him?"

The little creature in her arms gave no reply.

Qin Bore lowered her gaze and saw that Sweet Cone had closed its eyes, its breathing grown shallow, its paws curled into tiny pads—clearly it had fallen asleep in her lap.

She chuckled, shook her head, and eased her movements even more, fearful of waking this sleepy little one.

Only when Sweet Cone's breathing had completely steadied did Qin Bore carefully lift it onto the sofa and cover it with a small blanket.

Having done all that, she turned and walked toward the study.

She pressed the desk lamp on, and a warm yellow light instantly spread across the tabletop.

Qin Bore took from the drawer a notebook whose cover bore an osmanthus print, her fingertips tracing the texture as she slowly turned to the newest page.

She uncapped the pen, the nib touching paper, and wrote first: "He hasn't changed at all. Just like before……

The pen paused, and an image arose in her mind of Lin Yuan changing the fish tank's filter cotton—his wrist still wrapped in gauze, his movements still neat, sweat beading on his forehead, yet he never mentioned the pain.

So she continued: "When he helped me change the fish tank's filter cotton, his wrist was still hurt but he said nothing; when he brushed the cat's fur, his fingers were so gentle……

Having written that, Qin Bore's pen tip stopped, and the tips of her ears quietly flushed red.

She recalled how she had once called him a "toad" in her heart, yet now, thinking back on those little moments together, she couldn't muster even a hint of dislike.

After a few seconds' hesitation, she still wrote: "Even though he's a toad, I guess…… I don't dislike him at all?"

The pen hovered over the paper a moment, the ink slightly bleeding.

Having finished, she set the pen down, cupped her face in both hands, and let her gaze fall to the window outside.

In the night air a faint osmanthus fragrance drifted, as if the evening's tenderness over Mangu Ridge had been quietly carried into this study.

The notebook lay open on the desk, the ink still wet on the page; the feelings hidden in those words were like a newly sprouted seed, quietly unfurling its leaves in the warm light.

……

In the deep night, a breeze carried the chill of early autumn; Lin Yuan rode his Meituan bike and stopped beneath the Shidai Gongyu Lou, the streetlamp stretching his shadow long.

Having just parked his bike, he approached the building entrance and saw a black Mercedes-Benz parked silently in the shade of the trees, its lights off, only a vague silhouette of someone visible in the driver's seat.

He drew nearer, then made out the license plate—wasn't this Director Su's car?

Lin Yuan, surprised, pulled open the door and found Su Monong reclining in the Mercedes' driver's seat.

She wore her usual black OL uniform suit, the pearl button at the collar undone, revealing a small patch of fair collarbone; her normally immaculate bun had come loose, a few wisps of hair falling onto her cheeks, giving her a slightly disheveled, dreamy look.

Su Monong's head rested against the seatback, her cheek flushed from alcohol, a faint red tint at the corners of her eyes; she still clutched an empty wine bottle, her fingertips whitened from gripping it long, her breath carrying a light alcohol scent, even and heavier than usual—clearly she had drunk too much.

Lin Yuan's heart gave a jolt; he hurried into the car, and a mingled aroma of red wine and Su Monong's perfume welled up.

This made the cabin feel even more hazy.

Lin Yuan leaned in, lowering his voice: "Director Su, why are you downstairs at my place?"

Su Monong seemed startled, slowly lifting her gaze.

Her eyes weren't yet fully focused, veiled with a misty moisture; though normally sharp phoenix eyes, they now appeared soft, the redness at the corners more pronounced, as if she'd been wronged.

She stared at Lin Yuan for two seconds before recognizing him, then the corner of her mouth slowly curved into a faint smile; her voice, no longer its usual coolness but softened by alcohol, said: "You're back…… I've been waiting, to celebrate your birthday……"

As she spoke, her head tilted slightly toward him, the exposed collarbone rising and falling gently with her breath, a stray lock of hair slipping down to rest at the corner of her lips.

Lin Yuan was about to speak when he saw her raise a hand to reach the passenger‑side storage compartment, the motion swaying with drink—when her elbow lifted, the sleeve of her OL uniform crept up a bit, revealing a flash of spring from the white shirt's chest……

Although Lin Yuan had seen this many times before, seeing it again tonight still made his heart race with that elusive beauty.

Because she had drunk too much, fine beads of sweat clung to Su Monong's chest skin, glimmering faintly in the moonlight.

"Your…… birthday gift." She handed over two gift bags stamped with a hot‑foil logo, her fingertips brushing his palm unintentionally, leaving a warm, alcohol‑tinged sensation.

Lin Yuan instinctively took them.

He heard her lower her gaze to the bags, her voice soft and sweet: "Jaeger‑LeCoultre watch…… I picked it out myself; the dial has tiny diamonds, you'll look great wearing it…… and the shoes, custom‑made—I felt the leather, it's so soft……

She said this, her eyelashes drooping to veil the haze in her eyes, the lines of her profile appearing especially gentle in the dim light.

Lin Yuan shook his head repeatedly, protesting: "Director Su, this is too valuable……

A Jaeger‑LeCoultre diamond watch—surely worth over five hundred thousand! And these shoes, they're Hermès men's footwear.

A pair at least several tens of thousands.

Director Su has been very good to him; Lin Yuan really feels embarrassed to accept such a costly gift.

Seeing Lin Yuan refuse, Su Monong suddenly lifted her head, her eyes showing a hint of alcohol‑fueled stubbornness, her hand lightly pressing on the gift bag, her fingertip rubbing his knuckle: "Why refuse? I'm giving you this—just take it. I've waited three hours for you…… from ten o'clock till now, my legs have gone numb……

The alcohol on her breath mingled with her exhalation, blowing onto Lin Yuan's wrist and giving a slight itch.

Su Monong saw he hadn't moved, so she leaned in further, her bun completely undone, a few strands of hair falling onto her shoulders, the black fabric of her dress making that patch of skin look even whiter.

She pursed her lips slightly—not her usual domineering self, but like a child begging for candy: "Just take it…… you see I've drunk a lot; I can't let you leave me waiting for nothing……

Lin Yuan watched the red at the corners of her eyes, watched her fingers clutch his cuff—fingertips still cool from the wine bottle—and watched her usually immaculate hair now limp and sticking to her cheek.

Director Su, who was decisive and thorough in planning at the company, now seemed softened by the alcohol; even her coquettishness carried an unconscious allure.

He gently placed the gift bag on the passenger seat, his voice extremely soft: "Director Su, you've had too much to drink; rest a bit—let me take you home, okay?"

Night wind blew in through the window, lifting her shoulder-length hair, making the black dress cling tighter.

Lin Yuan could smell her perfume mixed with alcohol from her hair, feel the light weight of her leaning against him like a feather on his arm, and saw that the usually aloof Su Monong, now drunk, had lowered all her guard—even her fragility exuded a tempting charm.

"You won't accept my gift? Don't you treat me as a sister anymore?" Su Monong said, her voice drunken, a little angry.

Lin Yuan reached out and lightly steadied Su Monong's shoulder, his voice softer than before: "Director Su, I'm not refusing; I'm just worried it's too valuable… Don't be angry, I'll accept it, I accept it."

Hearing the two words "accept it," Su Monong's clenched hand relaxed at once, the redness at the corner of her eyes fading slowly, her mouth unconsciously turning up a bit—like a satisfied cat.

She suddenly remembered something, bent over again to reach the back seat, her movements a bit steadier than before, and pulled out a small cake from an insulated bag printed with a dessert shop's logo.

The cake wasn't big—about six inches—its cream a pale gold, with "Happy Birthday, Lin Yuan" written in chocolate, and a tiny osmanthus-shaped candle stuck on top.

She handed the cake to Lin Yuan, her fingertip brushing the cream without her noticing, only muttering: "I know you don't like overly sweet things, so I chose a low‑sugar one… I had planned to wait for you to come back and eat it together, but I waited too long and didn't dare touch it."

Lin Yuan took the insulated bag, his fingertips feeling the warmth inside, his heart filling as if something had filled it completely, and his earlier embarrassment turned into warmth.

Su Monong watched him accept the cake, then leaned back against the chair, her gaze becoming dreamy again, yet she still reminded: "Eat the cake soon; it won't taste good if it gets cold… Wear the watch tomorrow, don't leave it aside."

Lin Yuan nodded, holding both gift bags and the cake in his arms, and replied softly: "I understand, thank you, Director Su."

Hearing his response, Su Monong's smile widened, her head leaning lightly against the chair back, her breathing gradually evening out; all her earlier sharpness vanished, leaving only the docility of drunkenness.

Lin Yuan watched her calm down, then glanced at the gifts and cake in his arms, and couldn't help saying softly: "Director Su, let me take you home; I can't rest easy seeing you like this."

But Su Monong, drunken, said, "I'm not going home… Tonight, tonight I, as your sister, will stay to keep you company and celebrate your birthday…"

As she spoke, she suddenly grabbed Lin Yuan's collar with one hand.

Then Lin Yuan's whole body was gently pulled toward her……