Chapter 118: Seducing Meng Jie: Chen Yansen

“What are you doing standing here? Don’t you have a key?”

Chen Yansen walked forward and teased with a smile.

Thanks to his enhanced sense of smell, he easily detected that Meng Jie had sprayed perfume—light jasmine fragrance filled the air.

His gaze swept over her; in the dim light, he saw a pair of slender legs wrapped in white silk stockings—her outfit and makeup clearly took effort.

“It’s cooler outside,” Meng Jie wanted to say she’d waited for him Teyi , but the words turned into a lie.

“It’s cooler inside.”

Chen Yansen ruffled her hair, pulled out his key, unlocked the door, and led Meng Jie into the living room.

“There’s beer and braised snacks in the fridge—want some?” Chen Yansen set down his books, plopped onto the sofa, and pointed at the fridge.

“You’re learning Java?” Meng Jie glanced at the stack of books in his arms, flipped through them idly, and asked in surprise.

“That’s right. Even bosses need to understand tech, or you’ll get fooled by your subordinates.”

At this moment, Chen Yansen switched tactics.

“Oh, so that’s why you haven’t come to see me lately,” Meng Jie smiled faintly, hands behind her back, her face glowing with a bright grin.

Seeing her sitting there lost in thought, Chen Yansen shook his head with a chuckle, got up, took some braised snacks and two beers from the fridge, and placed them on the coffee table.

“Pfft—!”

Chen Yansen popped the tab, took a sip, and looked at Meng Jie: “You dressed up so nicely just to come here and zone out?”

“No,” Meng Jie snapped back to reality, meeting Chen Yansen’s half-smiling gaze—it always made her feel exposed—and her cheeks flushed red.

“Wow! Duck wings and duck necks too? Hiding good food from me?”

Meng Jie picked up a beer, sat beside the coffee table, and chatted face-to-face with Chen Yansen.

“Didn’t I give you a key? You just never came.”

Chen Yansen laughed in rebuttal.

Meng Jie fell silent. She’d come once after getting the key—but stepping into the bedroom, Chen Yansen’s intentions became obvious.

Luckily, Chen Yansen never pressured her; otherwise, she’d have been “captured” long ago.

“Cheers!” Not knowing how to respond, Meng Jie picked up her beer and clinked it against his.

“The stockings look nice.”

Chen Yansen took a sip of beer, his hand gently stroking Meng Jie’s calf like kneading a doll.

Meng Jie’s face turned bright red; she tried to pull back, but the coffee table was right behind her—nowhere to escape.

Watching Chen Yansen’s face draw closer, remembering tonight’s purpose, Meng Jie suddenly set down her beer, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

“That’s a bad habit. Needs fixing.”

Chen Yansen blocked her lightly, teasing softly, then kissed her rosy lips before she could react.

Meng Jie’s figure wasn’t voluptuous, but every curve was in place—delicate and well-proportioned.

The two beers, each only sipped once, were tossed aside on the coffee table.

From the living room to the bathroom, then to the bedroom, Chen Yansen carried Meng Jie the entire time.

To him, her weight—under ninety pounds—was as light as a giant doll, giving him more room to maneuver.

As an experienced locksmith, Chen Yansen knew lock-picking inside out; with his skill, he opened a brand-new lock in pitch darkness.

All night, the sound of a baby crying echoed repeatedly.

An elderly teacher living in Unit 4 wondered: this little cat was unusually restless—she kept making noise until one a.m., when it finally quieted down.

The next morning.

Birdsong and cicadas outside the window woke Chen Yansen from his dream; he slowly opened his eyes, feeling a touch of resignation.

Having too good hearing wasn’t all good—every tiny sound within twenty meters was crystal clear to him.

Even earplugs didn’t help.

Meng Jie lay on his chest, bare-shouldered, breathing steadily, fast asleep.

Chen Yansen reached under the covers, groping; soon, Meng Jie’s breathing pattern changed.

“I heard that when someone’s asleep, if you lift their hand, it won’t fall back down—I’ll test it.”

Chen Yansen pulled his right hand back and said it aloud.

“I’m not stupid,” Meng Jie said, dropping the act, opening her eyes, and staring straight at Chen Yansen.

“What are you staring at? Never seen someone this handsome before?”

Chen Yansen hugged her, grinning mischievously.

“Yeah, my roommates all say I eat well,” Meng Jie giggled, unashamed.

Shuowan , she propped herself up on her elbow, completely unaware that her upper body was now fully exposed.

Chen Yansen had great stamina and recovered quickly—it was morning, his peak energy time.

“Stop it!” Meng Jie was utterly drained.

Chen Yansen was annoyed, about to sit up, when he heard loud knocking at the door.

“Who is it?” Meng Jie tensed, whispering.

“How would I know?”

Chen Yansen grabbed a towel, wrapped it around himself, slipped on slippers, and walked to the living room, shouting: “Who is it? It’s morning—can’t you let people sleep?”

His mood was sour—his morning workout had been interrupted.

“Senior Chen, it’s me! Uncle Chen came to see you.” Wang Zihao called from outside.

Uncle Chen?

Oh no!

Why did Chen Guobin show up?

Last time he drank with the old man, Chen Yansen had complained: other fathers visited their kids at school during holidays, but Chen Guobin had never once come to Xucheng.

Chen Yansen had been joking—but now Chen Guobin had actually come.

“Wait a minute!”

Chen Yansen rushed back to the bedroom, picked up his clothes from the floor, quickly dressed, and told Meng Jie: “My dad’s here.”

Meng Jie panicked—first diving under the covers, then popping her head up two seconds later: “What do I do? Should I hide?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll close the bedroom door. You stay here—I’ll take Old Chen to the Innovation Park.”

After giving his instructions, Chen Yansen walked to the living room and opened the door.

“Senior Chen, it’s already nine—still asleep?” Wang Zihao said casually, stepping inside.

“Give me yesterday’s Toufang data—I need it urgently,” Chen Yansen blocked him, making up an excuse to get him out first.

“Yesterday’s? Only a few hours passed—what value could it have?” Wang Zihao looked confused.

“Just go get it!” Chen Yansen waved him off.

“Alright, I’ll head to the Innovation Park. Uncle Chen, let’s eat off-campus at noon—I’ll reserve a private room.”

Wang Zihao didn’t press further, cheerfully addressing Chen Guobin.

“Good, Zihao, go ahead. Uncle Chen will treat you to lunch.” Chen Guobin smiled back.

Wang Zihao waved goodbye and headed downstairs.

“What are you hiding in here? Why did you have to send Zihao away?”

Chen Guobin stepped into the living room, eyeing it suspiciously—the bedroom door was tightly shut.

“Old Chen, think you’re Sherlock Holmes? What could I possibly be hiding?”

Chen Yansen denied it outright—he wasn’t afraid of Chen Guobin, just didn’t want to hear his lectures.

“Really?” Chen Guobin gave him a thorough look, then moved toward the bedroom.

Chen Yansen quickly blocked him, raising an eyebrow with a grin: “Old Chen, the living room’s your place. The bedroom’s my private space.”

“I’m your father!” Chen Guobin grew impatient, fearing his son was going bad—Chen Yansen’s resistance only deepened his suspicion.

“My girlfriend’s in there,” Chen Yansen admitted, seeing Old Chen was determined to push in.

Girlfriend?

Chen Guobin instantly lost his steam, slumped onto the sofa, pointed at Chen Yansen, nearly raised his hand.

But then he thought: at Chen Yansen’s age, he’d been almost engaged—his anger faded.

“Is it Meng Jie?” Chen Guobin whispered.

“Who else?” Chen Yansen took a bottle of mineral water from beside the cabinet and handed it to his father, complaining: “You could’ve called before showing up.”

“Hmph! Didn’t you say yourself that a good father gives his kid a surprise? I’m just following your advice.”

Chen Guobin glanced at the bedroom door, knowing Meng Jie was inside, muttering to himself: “Huizhen, your son’s grown up.”

“That’s a scare, not a surprise,” Chen Yansen grumbled.

“Fine, I’ll go find Zihao at the Innovation Park. You two get up early, we’ll eat lunch together.”

Chen Guobin couldn’t sit still—he gave his instructions and hurried out.

“Do you know the way?” Chen Yansen asked.

“It’s one straight road—how could I get lost?” Chen Guobin waved him off, vanishing in seconds.

Chen Yansen smiled, shut the door, returned to the bedroom, and pounced on the bed where Meng Jie lay.

By the time they got dressed, it was nearly eleven—Wang Zihao had already called a second time.

Chen Yansen and Meng Jie finally headed downstairs, heading off-campus.

“Uncle Chen…” Meng Jie hesitated.

“Don’t worry—Old Chen’s tight-lipped. He won’t say a word.” Chen Yansen reassured her.

“That’s good.” Meng Jie’s face was still flushed; she’d been cornered at the door by Chen Yansen’s father and was thoroughly frightened.

“I’ll send him back tonight.” Chen Yansen looked disgusted.

“You’re so filial.” Meng Jie covered her mouth with a light laugh; she’d heard Chen Yansen say that the two of them always called each other by their given names, with no formality at all.

Three minutes later, the two got out of the car and walked into the restaurant’s private room.

“Hello, Uncle Chen.” Meng Jie greeted him politely.

“You must be Miss Meng. I’ve seen you before—girls change so much in a few years, you’ve become even more beautiful.”

Chen Guobin was very pleased with Meng Jie and praised her without restraint.

Meng Jie wore colored contact lenses instead of glasses; her features were delicate and refined, and sitting beside Chen Yansen, she looked sweetly dependent.

This was completely unlike the tomboy Chen Guobin remembered—the one who used to chase boys around, dragging chairs by the legs.

Wang Zihao sat to Chen Guobin’s right, acting as warmly as if he were Chen Guobin’s own son.

As they ate and chatted, the meal lasted over three hours.

Before the bill was paid, Chen Guobin hadn’t even stood up when Wang Zihao beat him to it.

“You little rascal!” Chen Guobin was slightly annoyed.

“Uncle Chen, every time Senior Sen has dinner with my dad, my dad pays. This time, let me treat you.”

Wang Zihao grinned, speaking with polished charm.

Chen Guobin didn’t insist further; he nodded in satisfaction. That morning, he’d visited the startup park and seen over two hundred employees—all of Chen Yansen’s people—giving him real proof that his son had truly matured.

“Old Chen…” Chen Yansen was about to urge his father to go home, but Chen Guobin spoke first: “Last week, I bought your mother a bigger apartment. Don’t worry about family matters—I’m leaving this afternoon.”

“So soon?” Chen Yansen blinked in surprise.

Chen Guobin said nothing, pulled him aside, secretly pulled out a small object the size of a cigarette pack, and shoved it into his pocket. He spoke solemnly: “You’re young, still in college—you need to take precautions.”

Chen Yansen pulled it out and saw the bright packaging clearly marked “Jieshibang.” He thought for a moment, then handed it back to his father: “I don’t need this.”

“You think I’ll break your legs? You’re using it!” Chen Guobin scowled and shoved it back into Chen Yansen’s hand.

“I mean this brand is too low-end—I usually use better ones.” Chen Yansen spoke seriously, then added: “Keep this box for yourself.”

“Who am I supposed to use it with?”

Chen Guobin nearly swore. Helplessly, he slipped the item back into his pocket and took a taxi to the bus station.

He’d come just to see his son—and left right after.

(End of Chapter)