Isn't This a Contract Marriage? Why Are You Sneaking Kisses! - Chapter 19

March weather is as fickle as a child’s face.

Three minutes before getting out of the car, the sky was clear for ten thousand miles; the moment feet hit the pavement, a heavy downpour began.

Shen Silie stood by the main entrance, gazing at the streetscape blurring into the curtain of rain behind him. He looked at the umbrella in his hand that he intended to return.

Luckily, I brought an umbrella.

His phone chimed with a notification. Shen Silie pulled it out.

[Shang Jichen: I’m stuck halfway; it’ll probably be another fifteen minutes. Give them this account number and go inside to rest and wait for me. You can order first—just pick whatever you like to eat.]

A string of numbers followed, ending with a pitiful emoji of a little grey wolf huddled under an umbrella.

Seeing the message, Shen Silie sighed and walked into the main hall.

His eyes were met by vermilion pillars and carved screens, behind which scrolls of calligraphy, paintings, antiques, and jade artifacts were neatly arranged. The overall decor was Chinese-style—not excessively gaudy, but low-key and regal.

The soup here should be delicious… Shen Silie thought suddenly.

“Hello, do you have a reservation?” a receptionist in formal attire asked with a smile, her gaze lingering on his casual clothes and the mask on his face.

Shen Silie fished out his phone to find the reservation info.

“Only the person themselves…” Before the receptionist could finish her sentence.

Shen Silie had already recited the account number. Hearing the first half of her sentence, he asked, “Is it not allowed?”

The professional smile on the receptionist’s face froze. Her eyelashes quivered, and she instinctively straightened her back. Her fingers tapped rapidly on the tablet as she swallowed her surprise.

“Are you Mr. Shang’s…?” The second half of the question stayed on the tip of her tongue. Staring at the reservation notes in the system, her breathing became noticeably shallower.

Shen Silie found her sudden reaction a bit strange. “I’m his friend. He’ll be arriving a little late.”

“This way, please.” The receptionist immediately put down the tablet, her leather shoes clicking urgently against the floor. “Mr. Shang reserved the top-floor private suite. I will take you up.”

Confused, Shen Silie silently followed her.

They went all the way to the top floor.

Upon entering the suite, Shen Silie stared at the floor-to-ceiling windows, then at a collection of ornaments that looked old enough that breaking one would likely double his debt. He sat down quietly by the window.

A waiter handed him a menu. “We’ve just confirmed with the other party; you may order first.”

Shen Silie took off his mask and waved the waiter off.

“No need. My friend is arriving soon anyway; we can order together when he gets here.”

Since the other person was treating him to a meal, he couldn’t abandon basic etiquette.

Hearing this, the waiter didn’t push further. As he retreated toward the door, his gaze swept quickly over Shen Silie’s profile.

A thin jawline, thick eyelashes drooping slightly, and lips the color of honey-soaked peach flesh—a natural, pale red. The vivid red birthmark on the back of his neck was partially exposed as he adjusted his clothes.

He looked like a half-bloomed rose.

The youth’s features were simply too superior; even someone accustomed to seeing beauties couldn’t help but be stunned for a moment.

The waiter stole a few more glances before slowly exiting the suite.

Shen Silie watched the rain outside. He didn’t have to wait long.

The door opened again.

A familiar scent of sandalwood, carrying a hint of cold air, swept toward him.

“Sorry, I’m late…” Before the sentence was finished, Shang Jichen’s gaze suddenly locked onto the back of Shen Silie’s neck. His deep green pupils flickered for an instant.

Shen Silie turned around. His collar shifted upward, perfectly covering the birthmark.

Shang Jichen’s eyelashes fluttered. Looking again, he saw only the red peony in the painting behind Shen Silie; he dismissed it as a trick of the light.

“The roads were a bit congested. I kept you waiting.”

Shang Jichen sat down opposite him, took off his coat, and rolled his sleeves to his elbows, revealing sturdy forearms. His voice carried a hint of apology.

Shen Silie shook his head. “No, I only sat down a few minutes ago.”

The waiter entered at the right moment, carrying two glasses of warm lemon water.

“May I take your order now?”

Shang Jichen nodded and signaled for the menu to be given to Shen Silie.

“You order first. Whatever you like—it’s my treat.”

Shen Silie opened the menu. His eyes drifted over the rows of exquisite dish names. He paused, picked two dishes at random, and pushed the menu toward Shang Jichen.

“You choose.”

Shang Jichen took the menu and quickly ordered several signature dishes, adding at the end: “And an order of Honey Yuzu Tea, room temperature.”

The waiter nodded and left, leaving the two alone again.

The rain lingered outside the window. Shen Silie reached for the carry bag beside him and placed it on the table.

“Your clothes. Thank you for last time.”

Shang Jichen lowered his eyes, took the bag, and gave a polite smile. “A small matter. No need to be so formal.”

With the main purpose of the visit resolved, Shen Silie began to worry about how to keep the conversation from falling into silence. Shang Jichen took the initiative, bringing up the movie he had recommended a few days ago.

Talking about films made Shen Silie more talkative; his voice became a bit faster than before.

As they spoke, the dishes were served one by one.

They ate while they chatted. Shen Silie took a bite of Mapo Tofu and couldn’t help but praise: “The food here is truly excellent.”

Usually, restaurants adjust the flavors of regional dishes to suit local tastes. As someone who grew up eating spicy food, it was hard to find authentic home-style cooking elsewhere.

Shen Silie’s eyes lit up as he ate.

Opposite him, Shang Jichen was so affected by the spice that he drank two glasses of water in a row.

There was a knock on the door.

A waiter entered carrying a small cake. A four-inch chocolate strawberry cake was placed in the center of the table.

The waiter explained: “Seeing that both of you ordered quite spicy dishes, our head chef—who was originally a pastry chef—has sent this as a gift.”

The waiter thoughtfully sliced the cake into small portions and placed them by their hands.

Shen Silie offered his thanks.

The waiter closed the door and left.

Shen Silie took a bite of the cake and nodded to Shang Jichen. “So professional. The chocolate flavor is so rich, and the jam inside is delicious too.”

Shang Jichen glanced at the chocolate cake by his hand, his expression unruffled. He looked up to change the subject: “Be careful not to get it on your clothes.”

Shen Silie looked down at his clothes.

Shang Jichen casually pushed the cake a bit further away.

As they chatted, the dishes were slowly finished. The meal was nearing its end.

Shen Silie joked: “The food here is great. Thank that friend who stood you up for me.”

Shang Jichen smiled gently, nodded, and extended another invitation: “You should come often whenever you’re free.”

“We’ll see,” Shen Silie smiled.

Shang Jichen turned his gaze to the window. “The rain is getting heavy. I’ll drive you back.”

“Okay.” Shen Silie stood up. “Wait for me a moment; I’m going to wash my hands.”

Shang Jichen nodded.

Following the waiter’s directions, Shen Silie walked through the corridor. He pumped some soap and triggered the sensor faucet. The cool water washed away the stickiness from his hands.

Shen Silie pulled out a paper towel to dry them.

Just as he was about to leave.

“Silie!”

A familiar male voice came from the side.

Shen Silie’s breath hitched; his shoulders tensed instantly.

He turned around to face Ji Yunshen’s surprised and delighted expression. “What are you doing here?”

Ji Yunshen stepped forward suddenly—too suddenly.

Startled, Shen Silie took a half-step back, but his back hit the cold edge of the sink. He was trapped in an awkward position where he could neither advance nor retreat.