Isn't This a Contract Marriage? Why Are You Sneaking Kisses! - Chapter 9

“Xiao Yue, you can take a break after finishing this cake.”

The owner of the voice rounded the corner from the front hall. Dressed in a work uniform, her light brown hair was tied into a neat ball bun, and behind a pair of high-prescription glasses were beautiful phoenix eyes.

Fei Qingya sauntered into the back kitchen.

Shen Silie was currently spreading cream on a cake, skillfully writing the four characters for “Happy Birthday” before looking up and giving the woman an OK sign.

Fei Qingya looked at him and couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“You’ve been coming here to work for me every day lately—do you even have time to spend with that Ji Yunshen kid?”

Fei Qingya habitually picked up a scrap of cake, popped it into her mouth, and squinted her eyes in satisfaction. “Mmm~ your skills are still the best. If I weren’t the shop owner myself, I’d suspect you were hiding some secret recipe from me.”

At the mention of Ji Yunshen’s name, Shen Silie’s expression faltered for a fraction of a second. He didn’t respond to that part, only jokingly replying to the latter half: “It’s only because you’re always slacking off at the front desk that I managed to practice and invent a secret recipe.”

“I’m not telling you, though.” Despite his fatigue, Shen Silie forced a smile for Fei Qingya.

Fei Qingya squinted at him. For a moment, she hallucinated a little cat acting smug after doing something naughty. She pointed a finger at him: “You brat! You’re a bad cat! A bad cat!”

Shen Silie’s eyes curved into crescents as he complained, “When is this ‘bad cat’ meme ever going to end?”

Fei Qingya shrugged and plopped down onto a nearby chair.

“Obsessing over cats is one thing, but you can even understand what they’re saying. I honestly wonder if you’re a cat spirit in human form.”

At this, Shen Silie chuckled.

He could indeed understand what cats wanted to express through their body language and meows. He had used this skill to solve quite a few problems before, but calling him a “spirit”…

Shen Silie teased, “If I really were a spirit, I wouldn’t be hanging around here among people.”

Suddenly, a hand patted his shoulder; Fei Qingya leaned against him.

“By the way, don’t forget that oil painting you promised to paint for my bedroom,” Fei Qingya complained poutily.

“It’s so annoying! My sister promised me it was only for display, and that The Golden Sea would be reserved specifically for me. But just because that buyer offered a high price, she sold it right out from under me!”

“300,000—it’s not like I couldn’t afford it.”

“Is that even fair? She’s just targeting me on purpose because I slack off.” Fei Qingya wilted.

Shen Silie paused. He had possessed a talent for painting since childhood and used it as a side job. He often received strange inspirations in his dreams; whether mentally or materially, he truly couldn’t live without painting.

Fei Qingya’s sister owned an art gallery. Even before he met Fei Qingya, he had been collaborating with her sister. Some of his paintings would be selected by her to be hung in the gallery for exhibition or auction. If someone bought a piece, the gallery took 30% and he took 70%.

Back then, the payment after tax plus an extra 200,000 from the buyer was deposited directly into his card. Knowing Fei Qingya loved that painting, he had always assumed the buyer was her.

“I’ll just paint another one for your birthday,” Shen Silie comforted her.

Fei Qingya ground her teeth. “If I ever find out who bought the painting I reserved, I’ll skin them alive.”

Shen Silie patiently coaxed Fei Qingya for a bit. Thinking about the dream he had before creating that oil painting, he inevitably drifted off.

Who exactly was that person crying in the dream?

Suddenly remembering something, the smile on Fei Qingya’s face froze. After a long moment, she asked cautiously, “What’s going on with you and Ji Yunshen?”

Recalling the strange atmosphere between the two recently, and the way Ji Yunshen had been subtly fishing for information about Shen Silie from her over the past few days—in this day and age, contacting an outsider instead of the person involved was a dead giveaway that something was wrong.

Fei Qingya’s eyes flickered.

“Is it because of that scumbag Zhao’s benefactor?”

Hearing this, Shen Silie’s thoughts snapped back. His hands paused for a moment before he continued packaging the cake, his tone nonchalant. “It’s nothing. Don’t overthink it.”

Fei Qingya stared at his profile, her brow furrowed. She tapped her finger on the table, her tone dripping with disbelief.

“I noticed long ago—our Xiao Yue can’t hide his expression when he lies.”

“Did he bully you?”

Fei Qingya’s gaze locked onto him. “You know I hate being lied to. Yue-Meow, I command you to tell the truth to your Store Manager right now.”

Shen Silie didn’t look up. He finished tying the ribbon on the gift box, wrote a blessing on a postcard, and said with feigned lightness, “I wouldn’t dare lie to the Manager. It’s really nothing.”

Fei Qingya came from a distinguished family; she simply didn’t want to get involved in the family business. However, her sister had a business relationship with Ji Yunshen’s family. Whether through their mutual friend or business ties, Fei Qingya and Ji Yunshen had been acquainted for a long time.

During his part-time shifts, Ji Yunshen had visited many times, and the group had gone out together quite often.

Fei Qingya snorted and drew a circle on the table with her finger.

“And you still say nothing’s wrong.”

“Back when you were working 24-hour shifts doing part-time jobs everywhere, even when you were being flamed the hardest online, I never saw you look as sad as you do now.”

While Fei Qingya rambled on, Shen Silie stopped what he was doing. His eyelashes trembled slightly, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up.

He didn’t offer any rebuttal or explanation; he simply let the silence spread between them.

Fei Qingya stared at him for a while. Seeing she couldn’t do anything with him, she let it go.

“Fine, fine. I’m going out to buy something now. Watch the shop for me, and no slacking off! You hear me?”

“Okay.” Shen Silie lowered his head with a sigh, turned around, and went back to work.

Inside the comfortable Bentley.

Shang Jichen sat in the back row, admiring the scenery. The car drove slowly; the early spring breeze brushed past the window, leaving the city’s hustle and bustle behind, yet it couldn’t dissipate even a fraction of the emptiness in his eyes.

Red roses and pansies mixed with a few small sunflowers were neatly packaged into two bouquets in the back seat. His phone screen lit up and dimmed on his lap.

The wallpaper was an oil painting.

It featured a midnight-toned color palette with a vast sea of golden flowers. A little white cat curled up on a rocking chair surrounded by the golden sea, sleeping peacefully.

Against the large-area dark background, the dazzling sea of flowers looked like a dragon’s hoard of treasure—it was the gold that tempted travelers to enter, but it was also the golden cage that locked the treasure away.

The car stopped at a red light.

The air conditioning was comfortable, but the long period of confinement was still somewhat stifling. Shang Jichen rolled down the window, his gaze instinctively falling on the street outside.

Directly across from a bakery, a family of three was coming out. The boy in the middle looked happily at the cake in his mother’s hand, looking as if he wanted to tear it open right then and there. Just as the boy reached for it, his father, knowing his child’s habits well, grabbed the boy by the “scruff of destiny” (the back of his neck).

The boy wriggled frantically under his father’s hand. After some unheard banter, the father hoisted the boy onto his shoulder, walking away from the bakery laughing with his wife.

Shang Jichen lowered his eyes and turned off his phone screen.

“Shang Jichen, why did you have to provoke her! It’s all because of you! All because of you! Why wasn’t it you who died! Why couldn’t even you keep her here!”

A furious, collapsing male voice mixed with a slap hit his face.

Half of his face had been pressed into a cake. With every breath, there was the taste of chocolate so spoiled it was bitter.

A murderer has no right to happiness.

He can only peer at the happiness of others.

The sun sank and the moon rose.

After cleaning up, Shen Silie took off his work clothes and picked up his phone to send a text to Fei Qingya, who was booking a restaurant.

Just as the message was sent, Shen Silie was about to hang the “Closed” sign.

The glass door of the bakery was pushed open. A crisp chime of wind bells rang out, and cold air mixed with a faint scent of sandalwood flooded the room.

Shen Silie turned around.

He came face-to-face with a pair of deep green eyes.