AADWFL Chapter 28

“You’re going to get engaged to Miss Yi?”
An Ning’s throat felt stuffed with cotton as he forced the words out with great difficulty.

Yu Xiuming was thirty—successful, influential, at the prime of his career and of marriageable age.

“Who said I’m going to get engaged to Yi Mingwei?”
Yu Xiuming sounded more shocked than An Ning. “An Ning, didn’t I say before—this is absolutely impossible?”

An Ning knew that even before meeting Yi Mingwei for the first time, Yu Xiuming had made his stance very clear.

But times change. In business, sticking to your original intent isn’t always a virtue—it can become a shackle.

That thought was written all over An Ning’s face, and the man across from him read it instantly.

The atmosphere turned cold in an instant. The aroma of lobster that had filled the air cooled along with the fading steam. The steady hum of the 24-hour air conditioning blew a chill across their hands, cold enough to sting.

“An Ning, what kind of person would you marry?” Yu Xiuming asked suddenly, his voice deep and quiet, steering the conversation off course.

An Ning’s mind went blank—completely struck by the question. It took him a long while to gather his thoughts again.

Marriage? He’d never thought about marriage.

Because An Ning had known from a very young age what his orientation was. He had no intention of deceiving an innocent girl, and finding a suitable partner under those circumstances was already nearly impossible. If he wanted to marry, he’d have to go abroad to register—and that, he simply couldn’t do.

Partly for financial reasons. But more importantly, he didn’t believe he would ever find someone like that in the first place. So he had never even considered it.

But now—Yu Xiuming was asking him about marriage.
His boss.
A man born into a complicated family, with parents whose marriage had no trace of affection—someone who might soon be forced into a loveless, politically convenient union himself—was asking him about marriage.

An Ning felt momentarily dazed.

Why would Yu Xiuming ask him that?

Yu Xiuming was mature, steady, tenacious—brilliant in business, and unfailingly professional. He was also a man of good character, restrained and self-disciplined. Every problem that landed in his hands seemed to be effortlessly solved. All An Ning had to do was be his confidant, his sharp and obedient blade. Nothing else required his worry.

“I think… my standards are probably different from yours, President Yu.” After much deliberation, An Ning finally decided to answer seriously. “You have to consider family, background… things I could never even imagine. Your responsibilities are far greater than mine.”

He paused for a moment and left it at that.

“So, you believe you can find someone you love—regardless of family, status, or any of the so-called ‘conditions’ others think matter most.” Yu Xiuming spoke slowly. “But I can’t.”

Four simple words, spoken softly—yet sharp enough to cut to the bone.

“Since I was a kid, I’ve always known what my parents’ marriage was really like.”
There was a bottle of sparkling water on the table—left over from their last meal together. Yu Xiuming opened it and took a long drink.
“They got married, had me, and that was it—their ‘duty’ fulfilled. After that, they lived however they pleased, each with their own affairs, almost never coming home.”

“From the moment I could understand things, I swore I’d never live that kind of life.”

“I don’t want a marriage that’s all façade, nor do I want it to be a business deal.” Yu Xiuming gave a low, self-mocking laugh. “It sounds sentimental, I know. Most of the people around me live exactly like that—and it doesn’t even seem to bother them.”

“But I joined the company young. I worked hard to gain power, to expand my influence—for one reason only: to have the right to choose. To ensure that, in the future, I wouldn’t be forced, that I’d never again be under anyone’s control—that I could live entirely on my own terms.”

In that moment, the young heir’s sharpness shone through, his ambition unmasked—cold, commanding, and magnetic.

Right then, Yu Xiuming looked every bit the man who could bend the world to his will.

“So I won’t marry Yi Mingwei,” he said at last, his voice steadier now—like a light breaking through fog. “We’ll discuss a cooperation agreement later. I already told her today that once we’re back in Binzhou, you’ll handle communication with her. I won’t meet her privately again.”

Yu Xiuming had said a lot—so much that An Ning couldn’t process it all at once. He had no idea how to respond.

Luckily, Yu Xiuming looked down at the table and changed the subject abruptly.
“An Ning, are you finished eating?”

The lemon lobster risotto still smelled wonderful, though it had cooled a bit. An Ning had eaten more than half of it already.

“Yes,” An Ning replied quickly—the question was simple enough. He set down his utensils and said, almost like fleeing the moment, “I’ll clean up right away.”

Yu Xiuming nodded.

So An Ning moved efficiently, clearing the table and folding the boxes. In minutes, everything was spotless again. But then he had nothing left to do—no excuse to avoid him anymore. Slowly, he turned back.

Yu Xiuming was still sitting there, as if waiting for him.

He had waited for An Ning to speak many times before in the company—but this felt different.
At work, President Yu was imposing, confident, always in control. But now… his calm eyes carried a faint trace of something else—an uncertainty, barely perceptible but still there.

An Ning saw it. And his heart ached a little.

He couldn’t stay silent any longer.

“President Yu, no matter what decision you make, I’ll support you,” An Ning said after a pause. Then, realizing that sounded too light, he added, “No matter what happens, I’ll stand by your side and help you handle it.”

Yu Xiuming’s gaze flickered, and for the first time that day, he allowed himself a satisfied smile. He nodded.

“Thank you, An Ning.”

The following days in Lunzhuo returned to their usual rhythm of work.

That night, lying in bed, An Ning had trouble falling asleep—his first bout of insomnia in a long while.

He didn’t know why, but ever since that night, whenever he saw Yu Xiuming, he found himself avoiding eye contact.

It hadn’t been like that before.

Before, President Yu and Assistant An worked together with effortless understanding. In meetings, a single glance was enough for them to communicate. An Ning was Yu Xiuming’s confidant, but in truth, Yu Xiuming was also his. Together, they had weathered countless storms in the company—close, but always maintaining an unspoken boundary.

That invisible wall between them was their line—imperceptible to outsiders, but clear as day to the two of them.

And yet, that night… it was as if a crack had opened in that wall.

An Ning couldn’t make sense of it. He didn’t even know when that change had begun.

In the mornings, after pressing Yu Xiuming’s clothes, he would hang them up neatly. Sometimes, when his boss was about to leave, he’d hand him his coat—or even help drape it over his shoulders. Their hands might brush through the fabric.

Before, An Ning had thought nothing of it—it was just work. He was professional, and every penny he earned from Yu Xiuming, he earned with diligence.

But now… something subtle had changed.

Even knowing that there would never be any real romantic progress between Yu Xiuming and Yi Mingwei, An Ning suddenly found himself acutely aware of the faintly intimate undertones in some of his own actions.

Still, there wasn’t much time for him to dwell on it.

Those brief days of leisure had been just an interlude. Even away from the office, An Ning and Yu Xiuming soon slipped back into their usual schedule—working from dawn till night.

During one rare break, An Ning managed to meet Jing Yan for a private meal. He thanked him for the pastries Jing Yan had “specifically” brought, and when he casually remarked that they were delicious, Jing Yan—ever enthusiastic—immediately ordered another batch to be delivered. Aside from that, everything else returned to calm normalcy.

Soon after, their long business trip to Lunzou came to an end. The two of them boarded Yu Xiuming’s private jet back to Binzhou.

It was already late afternoon when they took off, and by the time the plane began its descent, night had already swallowed the sky outside the cabin window.

The crew was preparing for landing. An Ning checked the weather report for Binzhou and said softly, “President Yu, it’s raining in Binzhou. It’s colder tonight than when we left. You should wear your coat when we land.”

He had already picked out the clothes Yu Xiuming would need upon arrival and hung them on the small rack inside the cabin.

The past few days had been hectic—straight from hotel to meetings—so Yu had mostly worn suits, no need to choose. Besides, Lunzhuo’s weather was still warm; no extra layers required.

But Binzhou was different. One autumn rain, one degree colder. After this rain, winter would be on its way.

Yu Xiuming nodded, his tone gentle. “Thank you.” Then he turned his head slightly toward An Ning. “Make sure you wear something warm too. It’ll be cold tonight.”

A soft, tingling feeling crept through An Ning’s chest. His heartbeat quickened.

“Tomorrow’s Monday,” Yu continued. “When you get to the office, take care of the morning arrangements. In the afternoon, you can meet with their side.”

Their side—that meant Yi Mingwei’s assistant and team. That’s what Yu Xiuming and An Ning had started calling them lately.

As soon as the topic shifted back to work, the strange tightness in An Ning’s chest began to fade, and he could finally breathe normally again.

“I understand,” he replied with a nod.

Ten minutes later, the private jet landed smoothly. The crew had everything ready—assistants carried their luggage straight to Yu Xiuming’s residence.

An Ning took a large umbrella from the flight attendant. As he stepped onto the stairway, he opened it carefully, holding it over Yu Xiuming so that not a single raindrop would touch his coat or hair.

He did it all instinctively—out of habit.

Just as naturally, a few seconds later, Yu Xiuming reached out and took the handle from his hand.

His grip was firm—but more than that, An Ning hadn’t expected it. He hadn’t imagined that even the umbrella handle he held lightly would be taken from him. So when Yu Xiuming’s hand closed over it, An Ning was caught completely off guard—his hand empty before he even realized what had happened.

The autumn rain was not typical of Binzhou’s usual weather — but that didn’t mean Binzhou never saw such fine, cold, lingering rain. On the contrary, every year around this time, there was always a stretch of damp, gray days that seemed to last forever.

When An Ning finally became aware of his own sensations again, he noticed that the spot on his shoulder that had been touched by rain was no longer wet. Instead, it had grown faintly warm — like the warmth that came from that dry palm now gripping the umbrella handle.

“Hold onto the document folder,” Yu Xiuming reminded him softly.

It was as if the only reason he had taken the umbrella was because An Ning’s other hand was occupied — holding the folder that contained the company’s confidential files.