Chapter 52: Very Happy

The leather seat’s surface was soft, and Su Mi, holding a pillow Shen Han had given her, slept very soundly.

She even had a dream about a mermaid.

It was so ridiculous. In the dream, she turned into a prince who fell into the water after setting out to sea and was saved by a mermaid.

The mermaid, whose face she couldn’t see clearly, saved her but didn’t send her back to shore. Instead, it held her and sank all the way into the deep sea.

She was tightly wrapped by black long hair like seaweed. The mermaid placed her in a clam shell, where she lay in the soft clam flesh. Suddenly, the long hair behind the mermaid’s head turned into sharp blades.

It said it would cut her open and eat her, so the mermaid’s hair could turn light gold too.

Su Mi: …Aaaah!!!

In the dream, the mermaid drew closer and closer, first pinching her face with its fingers to keep her from struggling.

Su Mi struggled desperately and seemed to break free from the dream, swimming frantically toward the sea surface…

She finally jolted awake.

Panting heavily, she opened her eyes.

But she discovered she wasn’t in the screening room where she had closed her eyes.

Instead… she was on an unfamiliar bed.

It had to be a guest room in Southern Garden.

The soft light green bedding and the small lamp on the bedside table gave off the only light.

Su Mi was stunned for a moment. With no mood to think about anything else, she first reached out to stroke her chest, slowly recovering from the drowsy nightmare.

Why had she had such a dream… She hadn’t had a nightmare in a long time.

Maybe the mattress was too soft—it had a sinking feeling when she lay in it.

She pressed the mattress and subtly pulled down the skirt hem that had nearly ridden up to her waist. Su Mi pursed her lips and looked around.

She was the only one in the guest room. Besides the lamp in the corner, it was pitch black outside the window.

…So late?

Su Mi found her slippers by the window, climbed off the bed, and nearly stumbled—her legs felt a bit weak from sleeping.

She tidied the bed first, then walked to the window, opened the balcony door, and stepped out.

The muggy midsummer night heat hit her face, accompanied by the chirps of birds and insects from the facing mountains. Outside stretched a deep blue night sky.

Su Mi leaned on the balcony railing and stared blankly at the night sky for a while. The summer breeze cleared her head a bit, and only then did she remember to check her light brain.

There were no messages, just one note from Su Ciyu.

: If you’re not coming home tonight, remember to say so.

Su Mi: …Mom, why are you so sure I’m not coming home?

Staring at the light brain, she muttered under her breath, “How could you just leave me here alone…”

Then a key question occurred to her.

Who… who had carried her into the room?

Option 1: Su Ciyu.

Option 2: Shen Han (drunk version).

Option 3: The butler/Secretary Zhuang/some unknown servant.

If it was Su Ciyu, she had the strength to carry her into the guest room—so why not into the car? Why leave her at Southern Garden?

But Shen Han had been drunk. She probably didn’t have the strength either?

No—if it was drunk Shen Han, then… that dream of hers. What if it was real?

Su Mi immediately pictured Shen Han carrying her into the guest room, staring at her with a fierce gaze and pondering where to make the first cut… In the pitch-black guest room, sleeping Su Mi was like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered, about to be sliced open and stewed by the evil antagonist…

Chills ran down her spine!

She hugged her arms tight and shuddered all over before shaking her head hard.

Why would the antagonist want to off her?

Had she accidentally been mistaken for her white moonlight?

Or was it because she’d forced her to eat those lotus pods she didn’t like?

No way!

Su Mi huddled against herself, trembling in the night breeze, when suddenly a clear, familiar voice came from nearby.

“Cold?”

Su Mi: !

She whipped her head around stammeringly. The other side of the balcony connected to Shen Han’s balcony.

Shen Han stood there holding a wine glass. Her voice was cold with a hint of laziness as she blended almost seamlessly into the night, quietly watching Su Mi.

Meeting her gaze, Shen Han gripped the stem and sipped the deep red liquid from the glass.

The liquid passed her lips, staining her thin ones with a glossy bright red.

Su Mi’s heart skipped a beat. She suddenly recalled that chaotic nightmare—the mermaid pinching her face up close, its lips that same vivid red.

She instinctively looked away and muttered, “Why are you still drinking?”

That afternoon, she’d gotten so wasted she mistook Su Mi for some white moonlight or whoever and babbled nonsense.

Now here she was, drinking alone on the balcony late at night.

Was she having an episode?

She glanced at the blackening value and saw it had dropped a bit from what she’d checked before heading out that day.

Down to 71.

What? Watching cartoons had improved her mood?

Unsure, Su Mi paced over but didn’t dare get too close to Shen Han. Separated by the railing, they faced each other.

Shen Han looked down at her and raised a brow, her mood clearly much better. “Thought you’d sleep till tomorrow.”

Su Mi scratched her cheek. “Not quite. I just dozed off without realizing.”

Part of her wanted to ask who’d carried her back.

But looking up at Shen Han made her look away uncomfortably.

Asking outright… felt awkward. Would it remind Shen Han of her mistaken-identity episode?

Shen Han seemed so relaxed, though—probably hadn’t been her. She might not even remember what she’d said while drunk.

Su Mi let out half a sigh of relief and advised sincerely, “Sister, maybe drink a little less?”

Shen Han arched one brow and squinted at her. “Worried about that?”

Su Mi: “You’ve had so much already.”

She gestured emphatically. “You drank plenty this afternoon, and now you’re at it again with the wine glass. Even for today… it’s…”

Before she finished, Shen Han crooked a finger.

Casual posture, frosty face tilted up. “Come here.”

Su Mi blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

Shen Han: “Wanna pinch your face.”

Su Mi: ?

Su Mi: ??!

She had to still be drunk!

Even if she often pinched faces out of nowhere, she shouldn’t just blurt it out like that?

Too straightforward—impossible!

Su Mi backed up warily, stared at Shen Han, and shook her head. “No.”

Shen Han chuckled, leaned forward, and crossed her arms on the railing. “You sure?”

Her clear eyes peered over from the glow of the wall lamp, dark and intense.

Su Mi immediately flashed back to that weird dream.

She resisted weakly. “Why?”

Shen Han looked at her but said nothing—until suddenly, in the quiet night, someone’s stomach let out a loud gurgle.

Shen Han’s gaze drifted downward to Su Mi’s flat belly, exposed by her black miniskirt.

“Starved flat?”

Su Mi flushed with embarrassment, clutched her stomach, and nodded honestly.

She watched Shen Han lift her light brain, seemingly about to call a servant or have the kitchen make something.

But it was nearly eleven at night.

Su Mi knew the Southern Garden servants’ schedule—they’d all be back in their quarters sleeping. Waking someone would be rude.

She stopped her quickly. “No need. I can just boil some noodles myself.”

Shen Han lowered her wrist, hesitant. “You?”

Su Mi: “Yeah!”

Her cooking was great, okay!

Su Mi’s confidence didn’t ease Shen Han’s doubts.

Shen Han couldn’t help recalling that strangely flavored chocolate from months ago.

It was unforgettable.

Her hesitation was obvious—amplified tenfold in Su Mi’s eyes, practically a character assassination.

Su Mi stepped forward, eyes wide. “Hey, why the doubt?”

The original host hadn’t cooked for Shen Han before, and from memory, her skills were just average—not often, but passable.

Shen Han chose her words carefully. “There are servants on night duty. Won’t trouble them.”

Su Mi: “You…”

Irritation bubbled up, then stalled. She remembered the antagonist before her was not to be provoked.

She pouted. “I’m not gonna blow up your kitchen, am I?”

Shen Han drawled, “Hard to say.”

Su Mi: “…”

The antagonist knew exactly how to rile her up.

Su Mi bristled, stomped right up, and glared up at Shen Han indignantly. “I won’t! Or else…”

She hemmed and hawed “or else” forever, unable to come up with a decent threat for an antagonist.

So few handles when you needed them!

Shen Han waited, then prompted, “Or else tell Auntie I’m not letting you eat at Southern Garden?”

Su Mi: “…I don’t have to eat here.”

Shen Han gave a faint “oh” and said, “Driver’s off duty. Middle of the night, Southern Garden’s so remote—the nearest spot to call a ride is a half-hour walk…”

Su Mi: !

She pursed her lips and fell silent.

Stomach still empty. Bully.

Across the railing, Shen Han leaned down and tilted her head to check her expression.

She reached out and pinched Su Mi’s cheek effortlessly. Now, though, the soft flesh matched its owner’s mood—looking a bit aggrieved.

Shen Han: “Really doing it yourself?”

Su Mi pouted. “What else?”

Have the antagonist cook for her?

Shen Han sighed. “So aggrieved… Come on. Worst case, renovate the kitchen again.”

Su Mi: “…”

She pried Shen Han’s fingers off, chin up, fighting spirit ignited. “You’ll taste it later too!”

No clue where Shen Han got the idea her cooking sucked. Total misunderstanding!

Shen Han: “Mm-hmm.”

Clearly skeptical.

Su Mi, brimming with ambition, spun around and headed back to the guest room.

She ran into Shen Han in the hall and saw she still had her wine. Her mood settled a bit.

What was the point of arguing with a drunk?

Though drunk Shen Han was… annoying.

Su Mi headed downstairs to the kitchen, spotless from the servants’ cleanup.

Everything was neatly sorted. She found some hanging noodles and grabbed a few eggs from the fridge.

Shen Han leaned against the doorframe, wine glass in one hand, arm crossed over her chest, watching Su Mi bustle about.

She also messaged the butler on her light brain: Kitchen’s mine. No need to come.

Su Mi spotted it and assumed she was summoning servants. Cheeks puffed, she whirled around. “What’re you doing?”

Shen Han raised her hands in surrender, helpless. “Did you steal my wine?”

Su Mi grumbled, “One drunk’s enough.”

Shen Han: “Who’s drunk?”

She arched a brow, but Su Mi ignored her, focusing on the stove. She fried an egg first, then poured in boiling water.

She seasoned the broth and added the noodles. Soon, she served a beautiful bowl of clear soup noodles.

Passing Shen Han in the doorway, she stopped specially and waved the bowl in front of her. “How’s that? Nice presentation, right?”

Shen Han followed her out and sat across the table, propping her cheek as she watched Su Mi set out chopsticks and slurp her noodles.

She sipped her wine, curious. “Why fry the egg first, then add the boiling water?”

Su Mi glanced over, satisfied—she’d at least proven she wouldn’t burn the kitchen.

Her temper toward Shen Han normalized. “It’s simplified high soup. The savoriness comes from the oil getting scalded open, whitening the broth.”

Shen Han: “Oh? Impressive.”

Su Mi gave her a pursed-lip smile, deliberately cheery. “No problem.”

She dug into the noodles. The warm, satisfying food filled her stomach, banishing the gnawing hunger.

Halfway through, she looked up—and froze.

Why was Shen Han staring at her eat?

She blinked. The next second, Shen Han said, “I haven’t had dinner either.”

Su Mi: …

“Eh?” She blinked dazedly.

She stared at Shen Han incredulously for a moment and realized she was serious.

Her gaze flicked to the wine glass, brow furrowing in disapproval. “You skipped dinner to drink alone all night?”

She opened her mouth, checked the time—past midnight.

So late!

Su Mi: “When was lunch?”

Shen Han thought. “Around noon.”

As long as she’d eaten.

Su Mi’s irritation eased somewhat, but she still looked at Shen Han with exasperation.

Even on the anniversary of her parents’ death, she couldn’t neglect her own body.

Whatever. If she truly cared about herself, she wouldn’t have let her blackening value get this bad.

Su Mi stood up and said, “I’ll cook a bowl of noodles for you too.”

Shen Han heard this and curved her lips in a very good mood. She said thank you, leaned back, and turned her head to watch Su Mi walk into the kitchen.

The boiling water was still hot, so Su Mi cooked the second bowl quickly. When she brought it out, she saw Shen Han leaning against the chair back, propping herself up with one hand and revealing a delicate hollow at her shoulder and neck. Her pale eyes followed Su Mi’s movements.

Su Mi set the noodle bowl down in front of Shen Han, wiped her hands, and suddenly felt a bit embarrassed.

She had been so satisfied eating these noodles herself and even showed them off to Shen Han.

But asking the big boss, who was used to delicacies, to eat this plain noodle dish she made made Su Mi a little uneasy. She added, “If you don’t like it, you can have the servant get up and make something else.”

Shen Han had already calmly picked up a pair of chopsticks. She looked up at Su Mi and smiled lazily. “No need.”

Su Mi grumbled inwardly. It’s not like you’re the one who said I’d blow up the kitchen.

Shen Han gathered her hair to one side, lowered her head, and elegantly picked up a chopstick of noodles before putting it in her mouth.

Su Mi silently held her breath.

It felt like Shen Han eating the noodles made the whole bowl seem expensive.

At least worthy of a Michelin star.

Su Mi waited there as Shen Han ate the noodles reservedly.

No comment, huh? Fine, no comment was okay.

She didn’t really want one that badly anyway.

Hmph.

Su Mi picked up her chopsticks and seriously finished her noodles. When she looked up, Shen Han had just finished hers too.

Even though she hadn’t cooked, Shen Han proactively grabbed a napkin for Su Mi, poured her a glass of lemon water, and loaded the bowls and chopsticks into the dishwasher in the kitchen.

When she came back out, Su Mi was still sitting in the chair, sipping her water and spacing out.

It was past twelve-thirty—very late—but she had just woken up and eaten her fill, so she didn’t know what to do.

Her gaze unconsciously landed on Shen Han, who had just emerged.

She watched as Shen Han picked up the wine glass again and took a sip of the liquor.

Su Mi: “…” How again?

The first thing to do was stop her. If she really got drunk, Su Mi wouldn’t be able to handle her alone.

Su Mi stood up too and walked over to Shen Han, who was leaning against the table. She pressed down on the base of the wine glass that was heading toward her mouth.

She said softly, “Don’t drink anymore… You’re already drunk.”

Shen Han’s gaze dropped to Su Mi. Her expression was very calm as she said, “I’m not drunk.”

Su Mi didn’t buy it. “Drunk people all say they’re not drunk.”

Seeming amused by the line, Shen Han chuckled softly, her voice lazy. “Then what should we do…”

Her slender arm draped gently over Su Mi’s shoulder. She seemed to lean down too, drawing closer, and Su Mi caught the cold fragrance on her body.

Su Mi was nearly encircled in Shen Han’s arms. Her eyes lifted in a daze—right in front of her was Shen Han’s chest. The simply cut dark green nightgown revealed smooth white skin, and Su Mi didn’t dare look for long.

Shen Han’s dark hair draped loosely over her own arm. Further up, her eyes held a hazy, pale image of Su Mi’s face.

As she spoke, a faint whiff of alcohol breath wafted over again.

Su Mi only looked up for a few breaths before it burned like fire, so she shifted her gaze to Shen Han’s arm instead.

The dark strands curved around above it, and Su Mi’s mind went a bit fuzzy too.

She had slept most of the afternoon and evening, already feeling dizzy. Now full and watered, blood flow to her brain was even worse.

Su Mi wanted to pull away but couldn’t get her legs to move. She was left with one thought: Why suddenly… like this again?

She pinched her palm and calmed down a little. She took a breath.

In an evasive stutter, she said, “Whatever… Drink if you want.”

Shen Han didn’t seem to think the position was odd at all. She asked, “Why’d you stop persuading me?”

Su Mi muttered softly, “When you’re unhappy, a little alcohol is fine.”

She didn’t usually see Shen Han drink like this. She was probably just sad.

The hold on her shoulder loosened slightly.

Just as Su Mi thought she could break free, Shen Han simply turned a little.

Then, quite naturally, she wrapped Su Mi in her arms and gave her a light hug.

Su Mi’s whole body went numb for a second from the loose embrace.

Shen Han lowered her head and gently bumped Su Mi’s forehead with her chin.

Her voice was relaxed too, tinged with weariness.

“No, I’m pretty happy.” Shen Han paused before saying, “It’s my birthday. Very happy.”