I Want to Fall in Love with You
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Qiu Yu had never been so grateful for Chen Cebai’s high intelligence.
He remained silent for only a second before understanding her meaning and nodded, saying, “Okay.”
Qiu Yu let out a breath of relief.
She was really afraid that Chen Cebai would ask her in front of the camera why she suddenly called him “husband.”
Wouldn’t that just expose them in front of the watcher?
She had deliberately acted coy and called him “husband” so that the watcher would know that Chen Cebai was her husband. With his abilities, he could uncover “his” identity at any time.
Qiu Yu reminded him, “In half an hour, I’ll be off work. At that time, I’ll be in the office… hmm, I’ll wait for you on basement level one.”
Chen Cebai’s voice was still just as calm and steady: “It’s fine, I’ll come to your office to pick you up.”
Qiu Yu’s sense of security instantly maxed out. She exhaled and showed a genuinely sweet smile. “Then you go ahead with your work, I won’t disturb you.”
Chen Cebai lowered his eyes and glanced at her. “I’m not that busy. If you need, you can keep the video on.”
He understood too well.
Normally, Qiu Yu would have immediately showered Chen Cebai with a string of “thank yous,” but to maintain the persona of being coquettish, she could only pinch her nose and act spoiled, saying, “Then don’t hang up. I want to keep looking at you.”
Strictly speaking, these words weren’t particularly coy, but just the thought that she was acting spoiled toward Chen Cebai made Qiu Yu feel unbearably embarrassed.
Maybe it was because acting spoiled was only meaningful when directed at someone who would respond.
Chen Cebai’s temperament was too cold and aloof, like a stark remnant of snow on a mountain peak.
Acting spoiled toward him was like standing on the mountaintop and calling out—no matter what she said, all she could hear was her own echo.
How could she not feel embarrassed?
Qiu Yu set the tablet aside and took a big gulp of coffee, finally managing to suppress the burning shame somewhat.
What disappointed her was that the watcher’s gaze had not disappeared because of Chen Cebai. From start to finish, it remained fixed on her.
Fortunately, when she lifted her head, she could see Chen Cebai’s side profile.
He had changed into formal attire, his tie and cufflinks neatly in place. One hand rested across the camera, his wrist bones sharply defined. The black crocodile leather watch strap, along with his long, well-jointed fingers occasionally tapping on the virtual keyboard, was both pleasing to the eye and inexplicably reassuring.
Qiu Yu suddenly no longer felt nervous and threw herself fully into her work.
Some tasks required her to use a chip. She knew that using the chip occasionally wouldn’t be a problem, yet she still asked out of nowhere, “…If I use the chip to send a file, it should be fine, right?”
But Chen Cebai didn’t respond as she expected with a simple “It’s fine.”
He stopped typing and turned to glance at her.
His gaze was outside the camera’s view. She could only see the lower half of his face and a sliver of his glasses’ frame.
Combined with the watcher’s tangible stare, Qiu Yu felt a moment of daze. For an instant, she actually had the absurd thought that it was Chen Cebai who was watching her.
This thought was so ridiculous that it sent a chill up her scalp.
At the same time, Chen Cebai spoke indifferently:
“You’ve activated the chip four times this week. Monday morning at 8:35, Wednesday afternoon at 6:40, Thursday morning at 11:25, and Friday at 12:31 noon. Whether you should be using the chip—you should know better than me.”
Qiu Yu choked and muttered resentfully, “Monday was because I was half-asleep and instinctively used the chip to check messages… As for the other three times, I just wanted to watch a bit of a drama while eating.”
As she spoke, she couldn’t help but reveal her spoiled nature, feeling somewhat flustered and exasperated: “I just wanted to say a few words to you, do you really have to tear me down like this?”
Chen Cebai chuckled lightly. “But I want to hear you talk like this.”
Qiu Yu was stunned for a moment, unexpectedly understanding his seemingly unfinished sentence.
Because of the watcher’s presence, she had been feeling a bit tense, and even her speech wasn’t as natural as usual. Only when he teased her with a few words and provoked her into an outburst did she finally relax completely.
Qiu Yu glanced at the tablet.
Chen Cebai had already turned his head back, leaving her only his side profile.
Just as she looked over, he happened to pick up a white porcelain cup and took a sip of coffee, his Adam’s apple moving slightly.
Perhaps because she stared at Chen Cebai’s Adam’s apple for a few seconds too long, the watcher’s gaze suddenly became rough and fierce, like hooks and arrows, as if it wanted to pierce her skin mercilessly.
Qiu Yu rubbed the goosebumps on her arms, thinking, fortunately, Chen Cebai was willing to video call her. Otherwise, if she were alone in the office, she might have been scared to death.
Half an hour passed in the blink of an eye, and soon it was time to get off work.
Chen Cebai’s sense of time was extremely precise—he had ended the video call ten minutes earlier. Ten minutes was exactly how long it took him to drive over.
Qiu Yu sat on pins and needles, taking two more sips of coffee. It had already gone cold, a sour bitterness stinging her throat.
It wasn’t the watcher that made her this nervous, but rather the fact that this was the first time Chen Cebai was coming to pick her up from work.
Since she started working here, only Pei Xi had ever come to pick her up after work.
Because of this, some colleagues had spread unpleasant rumors. Either they said that someone as highly intelligent as Chen Cebai would naturally look down on an empty-headed rich young lady like her, or they said that no matter how high Chen Cebai’s IQ was, it didn’t matter—after all, even if he became the leading researcher in biotechnology, the daughter of a capitalist still wouldn’t take a liking to him.
Qiu Yu disliked both kinds of talk.
Even though she had indirectly or directly clarified multiple times, there were still people whispering behind her back.
For some unknown reason, Qiu Yu wanted those people to know that she and Chen Cebai did not look down on each other.
…They were just not suitable for each other, that was all.
Qiu Yu anxiously finished her coffee.
She knew that Chen Cebai would arrive precisely on time—this was his habit. No matter what he did, he was always accurate down to the second.
But to her surprise, just as she stood up, she met Chen Cebai’s gaze behind his glasses.
He had actually arrived two minutes early.
Qiu Yu froze in place.
This was the first time she had seen Chen Cebai break his own punctuality.
Maybe it was just her imagination, but his gaze, looking at her, was deep and unreadable. It seemed to carry a hint of urgency that didn’t match his usual cold and detached demeanor.
As if he was in a hurry to see her.
Qiu Yu’s heart tightened, her breath trembling slightly.
She couldn’t help but indulge in the thought—had he rushed to her side so quickly because he knew she was in danger?
Qiu Yu’s actions were a step ahead of her thoughts. By the time she realized it, she had already strode forward and tightly wrapped her arms around Chen Cebai’s waist.
She had almost never hugged him like this in public before. The moment she embraced him, she realized just how much taller he was than her.
With only a short distance between them, she barely reached his shoulder.
Her waist was suddenly pulled tight—Chen Cebai had reached out and wrapped an arm around her.
Qiu Yu instinctively looked up at him, but all she could see was the reflection of white light on his glasses under the lamps.
As if sensing her gaze, Chen Cebai raised his hand and gently brushed her hair. “Qiu Yu, don’t be afraid.”
He truly understood her nervousness and fear.
Qiu Yu couldn’t help but bury her head deep into his chest, her voice muffled, “…You understood what I meant to say.”
Chen Cebai paused for a moment before responding with a deep, throaty “Mm.” His voice was incomparably calm:
“It wasn’t hard to understand.”
His voice was low and deep, and his aura was cold and crisp, carrying a faint bitter yet sterile scent of disinfectant, just enough to dissipate the watcher’s paranoid and deranged gaze.
Qiu Yu closed her eyes and rubbed her head forcefully against his chest, yet she could still feel that strange and terrifying sensation of being watched.
She wasn’t sure if it was just her illusion—it absolutely had to be her illusion—but she felt as though the watcher’s gaze had suddenly drawn very close.
As if it was staring at her from right in front of her.
A shudder ran through Qiu Yu, and she suddenly clutched tightly at the hem of Chen Cebai’s coat.
Chen Cebai lowered his head, pinched her chin with two fingers, lifted it slightly, and met her gaze.
Strangely enough, the moment their eyes met, the feeling of being watched from close range vanished.
Chen Cebai let go of her chin and gave her a light pat on the head. “Calmed down? Let’s go downstairs—we’re going home.”
Qiu Yu nodded.
While waiting for the elevator, Qiu Yu saw a few colleagues approaching—the same ones who often made a fuss.
Her vanity and desire for retaliation flared up, and she secretly glanced at Chen Cebai beside her.
His expression remained calm, his attire no different from usual—a dark, knee-length coat over a white shirt and black pants. From his tie and cufflinks to his watch, every detail exuded a cold, restrained elegance.
How could anyone not feel both a desire to defile and a possessive urge toward someone with such an aura?
As those colleagues got closer, Qiu Yu couldn’t resist. She stood on tiptoe, hooked her arms around Chen Cebai’s neck, and kissed his cool lips.
Sure enough, the group halted in their tracks, letting out a sarcastic “Oh~.”
They didn’t see Chen Cebai’s face—only his tall, upright figure.
These people neither knew nor cared to know about Chen Cebai. Even if he was recognized as one of the world’s most valuable scientists, it didn’t stop them from looking down on his background.
At this moment, the man standing beside Qiu Yu, both in demeanor and appearance, exuded a noble and refined air.
No matter how one looked at him, he didn’t resemble the “Chen Cebai” of their preconceived notions.
One of them let out a laugh. “So, you finally kicked that Chen guy to the curb?”
Someone immediately chimed in, eager to stir up trouble:
“Wasn’t this bound to happen sooner or later? One is a scientist with an IQ over 200, the other is a rich young lady who gets promoted despite working less than 84 hours a week—how could they possibly match?”
Qiu Yu stifled a laugh and fluttered her eyelashes at Chen Cebai, just about to introduce him to these people and enjoy the sight of their toes curling in embarrassment.
But before she could speak, Chen Cebai turned his head slightly and said coldly:
“Are you done talking?”
The surroundings instantly fell into a pin-drop silence.
It wasn’t because they recognized Chen Cebai, but because of the chilling and terrifying aura he exuded, as if he might pull a loaded gun from his dark coat at any moment.
Just then, the elevator arrived.
Chen Cebai wrapped an arm around Qiu Yu and stepped into the silver-white elevator cabin. His tone remained icily menacing:
“Even people with an IQ below 60 know better than to slander someone to their face. If you speak disrespectfully about my wife again, I will consider halting the supply of neural-blocking medication to your company.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the color drained from everyone’s faces.
Recognizing Chen Cebai’s identity only made them feel a little awkward.
But the prospect of a shortage in neural-blocking medication concerned the life and death of all senior employees.
Out of pride, they refused to apologize directly to Chen Cebai and instead mumbled a reluctant “sorry” to Qiu Yu.
Qiu Yu ignored them.
Just as the elevator doors were about to close, one of them suddenly stammered in a trembling voice:
“…You don’t have the authority to halt the supply of neural-blocking medication. You’re just trying to scare us.”
Chen Cebai cast a glance at the speaker, let out a cold, indifferent chuckle, and said:
“You’ll find out tomorrow whether I’m just scaring you.”
At that moment, the elevator doors closed.
Qiu Yu tilted her head up and flashed a sweet smile at Chen Cebai. “That tone you just used…”
She almost wanted to say, It really hit my kink, but figured he wouldn’t understand. So instead, she just giggled to herself, her smile playful and completely free of gloom.
But Chen Cebai’s expression remained tense.
He pinched her chin, gently pressing into her dimples, his gaze behind his glasses ice-cold. “Do they say that about you often?”
She had always been the center of attention, growing up amidst admiration, adoration, and laughter—yet because of him, she had endured so much slander.
“Not that often,” Qiu Yu shrugged. “I’m used to it. Don’t worry, I don’t take these things to heart. Today, I just wanted to show them that we’re not emotionally at odds.”
As she said this, she completely forgot that she had been planning to ask for a divorce.
“Not that often” and “I’m used to it”—those two statements contradicted each other.
Chen Cebai slowly rubbed his thumb against the corner of her lips. “Not emotionally at odds?”
Qiu Yu suddenly put on a serious expression. “I was actually planning to ask you for a divorce today…”
Chen Cebai didn’t say anything, but his fingers abruptly tightened, almost leaving bruises on her cheek.
Qiu Yu let out a pained “Ah!” and furrowed her brows. “I was planning to, I was planning to! I’ve changed my mind now!”
She was a little annoyed. “Can you let me finish? But then you came to pick me up, and you helped me fight back against all that gossip… So now I don’t want to end our relationship so hastily anymore.”
Chen Cebai lowered his hand, closed his eyes briefly, turned his head to the side, and neither spoke nor looked at her.
His breathing remained steady, yet a thick, hideous vein bulged from his neck.
Qiu Yu soothingly reached out to touch his neck, only for him to seize her wrist in an instant.
She instinctively slipped into that coquettish tone, as if doing so could make him relax: “Don’t be mad at me. I just don’t want a cooperative marriage anymore.”
Qiu Yu lifted her bright, clear eyes and looked at Chen Cebai. “Chen Cebai, I want to fall in love with you. Is that okay?”
After she said this, Chen Cebai still did not look at her.
The feeling of being watched surged back again.
Stronger than before.
Hotter.
More deranged.
Like a boiling swamp.
Like the slick, damp mouth of a serpent.
Greedy and twisted.
As if it would never stop until it swallowed her whole.
Yet this time, Qiu Yu was no longer nervous, no longer covered in goosebumps.
Almost in a light and cheerful mood, she thought—good thing she had said those words.
Now she could openly and confidently ask for Chen Cebai’s help.
With Chen Cebai around, she would definitely be able to catch the watcher soon.