Chapter 16: A Game of Pretenses

“Madam Ye, you’re absolutely right. I also think that only the most outstanding, beautiful, and flawless goddess in the entire universe could possibly be worthy of someone as handsome, charming, and wealthy as Third Master,” Lu Yao echoed Yang Lan’s words, heaping praise upon Ye Zema.

Yang Lan narrowed her eyes in surprise, not expecting Lu Yao to say such a thing.

“Of course, I would never overestimate myself and imagine that I am that perfect woman—the best in the universe,” Lu Yao went on, her smile calm and unyielding. With just a few words, she left Yang Lan, who was about to scold her, utterly speechless.

“Miss Lu, if you didn’t sound so sincere, I would have thought you were mocking me with flattery,” Ye Zema stood up, walked to Yang Lan’s side, and naturally draped his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her aside and murmured, “Mother, you’ve misunderstood. It was I who pursued Miss Lu first…”

“You!” Yang Lan’s gaze turned sharp.

“Please, calm down and hear me out.” Ye Zema gently stroked Yang Lan’s back, letting out a low laugh. “I’ve always listened to you the most. How could I possibly fall for a woman like Lu Yao, who has no family background? It was just a bit of harmless fun to liven up the dull days in this old house.”

“Is that true?” Yang Lan eyed him with suspicion.

“Would I dare deceive you?” Ye Zema groaned inwardly—taking the blame for his second brother was truly suffocating.

Still unconvinced, Yang Lan cast a cold, dismissive look at Lu Yao and left.

Qiao Wan’er, disappointed that the drama she’d hoped for didn’t materialize, let her face fall. Glancing up, she saw Ye Zehong, who’d been scarce all morning, walking toward them.

In an instant, her expression brightened. She hurried to Ye Zehong’s side, slipped her arm through his, and leaned against him affectionately, her voice soft and sweet as she complained, “Third Brother, you’re flirting everywhere again and making Mother Ye angry.”

“I’m merely openly pursuing the most beautiful goddess in the universe,” Ye Zema replied with a mischievous smile directed at Lu Yao, pulling her close by the shoulders.

Lu Yao’s attention was caught by Qiao Wan’er’s hand, and before she realized it, she found herself falling into Ye Zema’s embrace.

Though Ye Zehong’s face remained carefully composed, the warmth in his eyes faded to an icy chill.

Lu Yao felt his gaze, murderous and intent, fixed on the hand around her shoulder—as if, in the next moment, he might chop it off. She shivered inwardly and tried to wriggle free.

As if in deliberate provocation, Qiao Wan’er pressed even closer to Ye Zehong, nearly half her body against his chest, gazing up at him with adoration and gifting him a gentle smile.

Ye Zehong lowered his head, lips curling in response.

Lu Yao stood frozen, as if a thorn had pierced her heart, draining all the color from her face.

Ye Zema, relishing the spectacle, stretched out his hand to feel Lu Yao’s forehead, his voice gentle: “Are you feeling unwell? You look rather pale.”

Startled by the warmth of his touch, Lu Yao shifted her gaze to find Ye Zehong staring coldly at the hand on her forehead. Instinctively, she took a step back and shook her head. “It’s nothing. I’ve just been busy all morning and I’m hungry.”

Ye Zehong’s expression quickly returned to calm. He replied mildly, “I’ve already arranged for the kitchen to serve lunch at the Fragrant Pavilion.”

…

Qiao Wan’er sat down right beside Ye Zehong, frowning as she surveyed the dishes. “Why are all these sweet Jiangnan dishes? They’re my least favorite.”

Lu Yao paused, glancing up at Ye Zehong, a ripple stirring in her heart.

Ye Zema’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he arched a brow, “What a coincidence—these happen to be Miss Lu’s favorites.”

Qiao Wan’er, stunned, shot Lu Yao a sharp, probing look.