Right now, Su Shanshan was like a curious child, glancing repeatedly at Pei Xingyan, but she seemed afraid of being caught and deliberately tried to hide her gaze.
It was like an otaku spotting a beautiful girl with flawless legs on the street, unable to resist taking a good look, yet afraid that his stare would be noticed.
But her movements were far from subtle; every single one was fully perceived by Pei Xingyan.
Although Su Shanshan was a girl with a mysterious identity and unfathomable secrets, she couldn’t exactly be called a schemer with great cunning, so she couldn’t hide her actions like a spy.
She sneakily glanced from the top of his head to his face, staring somewhat absentmindedly, as if seeing him for the first time. After a while, she shifted her gaze downward, scanning from his waist to his legs and feet, sizing him up like data being analyzed.
Pei Xingyan felt a little creeped out by her intense scrutiny, so he propped his hands on his thighs and stood up.
Su Shanshan immediately shrank back a little.
“Do you want to drink more?”
Pei Xingyan pointed at the now-empty crystal glass on the table.
Su Shanshan blinked, mechanically turning her head to look inside the glass. She wasn’t debating whether to have another drink; it was just that she was caught off guard by his sudden movement and momentarily didn’t react.
But her craving for a tasty cold drink took over her mind, and she nodded instinctively.
“But don’t put too much vitamin C,” Pei Xingyan picked up the cup and casually reminded her, “Too much vitamin C intake in a short period will cause diarrhea.”
Su Shanshan nodded vaguely, pursing her lips and retreating back into the little space she’d built with the cushion.
She continued watching Pei Xingyan quietly, observing his every move. She didn’t say a word or think about anything—she just watched this boy bustling around for her.
Suddenly, she buried her head in the cushion, making some indistinct noises.
Then she crawled out from her little fortress, slipped into her slippers, and pattered over to Pei Xingyan’s side.
“Ba-baby…” The pet name was still awkward on her tongue, not coming from her heart but put on like a performance.
She forced a tone of enthusiasm and said, “Do you want some fruit? I can cut some for you, okay?”
“No need, if you want some, I’ll cut it for you later,” Pei Xingyan shook his head and refused, then silently watched to see what she’d do next.
“Ah, aww, I’m happy to do it~” she continued pretending, trying to sound lively and carefree while also showing affection toward him.
Pei Xingyan wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but he always felt she was deliberately imitating the sweet, cute, and gentle Su Shanshan who spent every day with him.
Was it so he wouldn’t notice something? Or was there some other reason?
Pei Xingyan quietly sifted through what had just happened.
He was sure Su Shanshan had suddenly seemed like a different person after his mother came in, as if she had changed just to deal with his mother.
What bothered him more was how distant and unfamiliar she had seemed when she saw his mother, as if she hadn’t seen her in eight hundred years.
That wasn’t the kind of feeling a child should have toward their parent. A child can feel love, fear, or hatred for their parents—but not unfamiliarity.
And the words she spoke—she accused her own mother with something close to blaming her for cheating, yet the reasons were so flimsy: just because his mother had glanced at another man… or maybe because she had shaken hands with someone during a business meeting…
Pei Xingyan thought even someone as extreme as Ye Ziwei wouldn’t hold such impossible standards—standards that simply can’t be met in today’s world. Unless you locked yourself inside all day, many things are unavoidable.
Like when you casually stroll into a mall and see a soft, white, bright object swaying in front of someone’s chest, or see two long, white legs moving about—you can control your second glance, but controlling the very first glance? That’s practically impossible.
At least, Pei Xingyan thought he couldn’t.
There’s a saying, how does it go? The first glance is instinct, the second glance is manners. Humans can hardly control their instincts.
He was starting to believe what Su Shanshan once said—that maybe she fell for him because of his unwavering “gentlemanly demeanor” back then…
But none of that mattered now. Su Shanshan suddenly leaned closer and closer, though still carrying a shy resistance.
Her body gradually pressed tighter, like the usual way Pei Xingyan felt when she held his arm between hers.
“Baby…” Su Shanshan called him with the still-awkward pet name and softly asked, “You heard what I said to Mom just now, right?”
“Mm.” Pei Xingyan nodded; there was no reason to lie now.
“Mom was really terrible, right?” she suddenly asked. “Not only did she do bad things, she even made excuses. She’s no parent at all~”
“…” He was silent, unsure what to say, unwilling to argue.
“Dad’s the same, he can’t keep his eyes only on Mom. They’re both betrayers,” Su Shanshan seemed lost in her own world, speaking to herself, “Why can’t people just keep their hearts and eyes only on their lover? Why is there always imperfection in love, no matter what kind?”
“…” Pei Xingyan remained silent.
“Luckily, you’re different!” She suddenly became excited, her grip tightening so much Pei Xingyan’s shoulder hurt a little. “You’re different, I know you are. You’re different—you’re perfect, right?”
Su Shanshan was incredibly emotional now, pulling Pei Xingyan back and forth, endlessly asking questions, desperate for one answer—she kept pressing, “You won’t do what Dad and Mom did and cheat on me, right?”
She had completely lost her composure; all her pretenses had been torn away. But this question was sincere.
Pei Xingyan felt flustered from being shaken around and nodded along.
“You’re so good, baby~” Su Shanshan squinted her eyes in a smile, hugging his arm and swaying. “I told you you’re perfect~”
Satisfied, she relaxed and moved away from Pei Xingyan, a trace of joy on her face as she ran toward the kitchen area to cut some fruit.
She finally seemed back to normal, the cheerful girl she always was.
Yet Pei Xingyan was still certain she was performing—playing the role of the Su Shanshan he knew.
His face flushed faintly as he realized his way of recognizing her was hard to explain.
The Su Shanshan who always rested all her weight above his chest, pressing firmly and intensely—that feeling was strong and unmistakable.
But this girl, maybe she had mustered the courage to do the same, yet the awkwardness hiding in her reserved gesture still gave her away.
Why was she putting on this act?
That was Pei Xingyan’s biggest question.