The Domineering CEO's Vain Trophy Husband 18

Lin Zhi was woken by the heat the next morning. His feet, which were usually somewhat cold in cool weather, were now toasty warm.

Lin Zhi lifted the covers. Nuonuo, the pure white little dog, was lying at his feet, gazing up at him with innocent, jet-black eyes.

Last night, Lin Zhi hadn't let Nuonuo onto the bed. The dog had been sleeping beside it, clutching a stuffed toy. Clearly, the excessively lively little dog hadn't listened to its owner and had sneaked under the covers to sleep at his feet.

"You little troublemaker."

Lin Zhi nudged the dog's soft belly with his foot, but his voice carried a smile.

The dog had originally been raised for Ming Yao's sake, but the genuine, unwavering affection made it all too easy for someone like Lin Zhi to grow fond of them.

In the end, he didn't really mind Nuonuo getting on the bed — he'd just have the housekeeper change the sheets and covers later.

Sensing that its owner wasn't angry, the little dog bounced happily on the bed.

System No. 01 watched in silence and gave a quiet, jealous little huff to itself.

After washing up, Lin Zhi changed clothes and sent a message to Uncle Jin.

Now that he'd gotten busier, he couldn't visit Old Master Ming as often, but whenever the temperature dropped or rose sharply, he'd still send the old man a message with a few words of reminder. The Old Master always said he was perfectly fine and didn't need the nagging, so Lin Zhi had switched to asking Uncle Jin instead.

Uncle Jin was the Old Master's right-hand man. Sometimes mentioning the Old Master every single day felt like putting on a show — Lin Zhi's concern wasn't about earning credit. These small, quiet gestures were the kind of thing that always stayed in someone's memory.

At Old Master Ming's age, no rare treasure could compare to care that was genuine and practical.

[Uncle Jin]: It's gotten cold these past few days, and it keeps raining. The Old Master has been coughing a bit. He doesn't want to take medicine. So, I made some warming ginger soup and pear soup to clear his lungs and ease the cough.

[Lin Zhi]: Keep an eye on him, Uncle Jin. If he really needs the medicine, make him drink it — just say it's Ming Yao's orders. I'll come see him after work today.

Lin Zhi closed the messages, finished breakfast, and took the car to the office.

For the past few days, he'd been leaving early, missing Ming Yao altogether.

It had been about four days since their intimate time at the Hot Spring Villa.

Lin Zhi hadn't told Ming Yao about the Old Master being ill, nor had he invited Ming Yao to visit together.

He was waiting — waiting for Ming Yao to invite him.

Even attending an event together required Special Assistant Gao to relay the message. Would a middleman be needed again this time?

Lin Zhi was certain Uncle Jin would tell Ming Yao about the Old Master's condition, and Ming Yao would most likely know he planned to go visit.

Would he have someone pass the word along, notify him directly, or simply go alone and run into him at the Old Master's place? Which would Ming Yao choose?

Up in the top-floor office, Ming Yao had just wrapped up a transcontinental meeting and finally had a moment to check his phone. He saw Uncle Jin's message from a few hours ago.

Ming Yao opened Lin Zhi's pinned chat window. It was empty — not a single message.

There were no texts from Lin Zhi either. It seemed Lin Zhi had no intention of informing him of his plans.

Ming Yao's brow furrowed slightly. He reflected on whether he'd been too rough the other day and left marks on Lin Zhi.

Lin Zhi hadn't seemed angry when he left. Ming Yao had no clue, and the crease between his brows deepened.

He'd once thought Lin Zhi was easy to read — everything he did had a purpose behind it. Now, Lin Zhi seemed even harder to figure out.

Since Lin Zhi would be going to the Old Master's after work, perhaps Ming Yao could simply wait and offer him a ride. Lin Zhi had only said he'd go after work, not that he'd go immediately after — what if he had another engagement? They might miss each other entirely.

Ming Yao thought it over and decided to send Lin Zhi a message himself. This time, he didn't go through his assistant. His assistant had already said enough on his behalf.

[Ming Yao]: Grandfather is unwell. Come visit with me later?

At his desk, Lin Zhi curved his lips and replied with a single: 'Sure.'

That evening, the entire secretarial team was collectively stunned.

President Ming was actually leaving work on time today? Not to attend a dinner, not for a meeting, not on a business trip — just leaving work?

Special Assistant Gao wore his characteristically enigmatic smile, the kind that always left his colleagues in the secretariat baffled, and watched his boss leave. As the personal assistant, he naturally knew the boss's schedule. Pairing that with the boss's notably good mood throughout the day, the image of Mr. Lin in his mind grew a little larger.

It hadn't rained today, but the sky had stayed overcast all day.

The old Bluestone bricks in Old Master Ming's courtyard still bore damp traces of recent rain. The cage under the eaves was empty. The two fish in the stone pond still swam in lazy circles. The flowers along the corridor drooped listlessly — all except one pot of moisture-loving blooms, which held its head up proudly.

When Lin Zhi and Ming Yao arrived, the Old Master was sitting in a reclining chair along the corridor, wearing a traditional Tang-style jacket, eyes closed, with an air of weary twilight about him.

Aging was something no human could escape. The Old Master had always been lean, and now with the pallor of illness on his face, he was a sight that made one's heart tighten.

"Grandfather."

Lin Zhi and Ming Yao called out at the same moment. Ming Yao steered his wheelchair into the courtyard while Lin Zhi had already stepped over the threshold and walked quickly to the Old Master's side.

"Why did the two of you come together?"

The Old Master opened his eyes, and a look of delight crossed his face, making him appear somewhat more spirited.

Ming Yao looked at the Old Master with undisguised disapproval: "Uncle Jin said you've been coughing. You're sick and you still won't take your medicine?"

"You — always blabbing. What's the point of telling them about something this small?” The Old Master shot a reproachful glance at Uncle Jin standing nearby, then waved his hand at Ming Yao: “I coughed twice at night. It's nothing serious."

No sooner had he said this than the Old Master broke into a fit of harsh coughing. Lin Zhi quickly patted his back to help him breathe. Once he recovered, the Old Master looked a little sheepish.

Lin Zhi turned to Uncle Jin, who stood to the side: "Uncle Jin, would you go and prepare the medicine? We'll stay and make sure Grandfather drinks it."

Uncle Jin was a practitioner of traditional Chinese medicine and had always looked after the Old Master's health. The household kept a steady stock of herbal ingredients. Compared to Western medicine, traditional medicine was milder and better suited for the elderly. The Old Master's cough might seem minor, but at his age, even small ailments could drag on and turn serious — better to treat it early and properly.

Uncle Jin left in a hurry, no longer bearing any trace of the wariness and suspicion he'd once shown toward Lin Zhi.

"So the two of you teamed up to manage me?"

The Old Master looked from Ming Yao to Lin Zhi with an expression of helpless resignation.

"Don't make light of your own health."

Ming Yao's words of concern came out cold and firm. Combined with his expression, they sounded entirely serious.

"Knowing you're ill, I can't focus on work at all. Even if you won't think of yourself, Grandfather, please think of us — don't make us worry so much."

Lin Zhi's voice was naturally gentle, and with Ming Yao as a contrast, his words sounded far more pleasing to the Old Master's ears.

The Old Master gave a helpless look, repeating: "Alright, alright, I'll drink the medicine in a moment. You're worrying for nothing — I'm perfectly fine."

Lin Zhi smiled and agreed, poured a cup of hot tea, and placed it within the Old Master's reach.

Ming Yao knew Lin Zhi always put on his best-behaved act in front of the Old Master. He used to scoff at it — but today, watching it unfold, he found himself thinking it was understandable that the Old Master was charmed.

If he were sick and insisting on working, and Lin Zhi said something like that to him… Ming Yao considered for a moment. Indeed, he might very well waver.

While the Old Master was drinking his medicine, Lin Zhi went to look at the potted plants.

Ming Yao sat beside the Old Master. Beyond work, the grandfather and grandson rarely had much to say to each other. Without Lin Zhi there to smooth things along, neither of them knew what to say.

Old Master Ming sighed inwardly and asked about Ming Yao's legs.

This season was certainly the most uncomfortable one for Ming Yao — overcast and damp, with frequent rain. His legs would be giving him considerable trouble.

Ming Yao answered in a few brief words, saying it was the same as always.

"Ming Yao, you're still young. You have a long life ahead of you. Must you keep living the same way? Treat it as though that person is dead. Let go of all of that. It would be better for you if you could stand again."

The Old Master swallowed the last of his medicine. The bitterness coated his throat all the way to his heart.

"Grandfather, I tried back then…"

"You hadn't made up your mind," the Old Master said — one of the rare times he interrupted him. His clouded eyes held a piercing sharpness that cut through to the truth: "You weren't resolute enough."

The Old Master set down the bowl and drew a long breath, his gaze drifting toward Lin Zhi. He lowered his voice: "That one is a good child. He has a particular gift for winning people over. I've brought him to meet some old friends of mine a few times, and already some of them are asking to play matchmaker for him."

"Your ability surpasses mine — you know that without me saying it. If you do nothing, opportunities will pass to someone else. And he is a living person, after all."

"Come out of it. It's time."

The Old Master couldn't read Ming Yao's intentions clearly, so he hadn't been able to openly introduce Lin Zhi to those old friends as his grandson-in-law.

Ming Yao didn't respond. He simply refilled the Old Master's teacup. He thought of the dream he'd had at the Hot Spring Villa a few days ago, and then of the Old Master's words. His eyes grew deep.

The Old Master sipped his tea, tapped out a rhythm with his fingers, and softly hummed Yan Shu's 'Huan Xi Sha'.

"Before the endless mountains and rivers, longing fades to nothing… Fallen blossoms and wind-driven rain only deepen the grief of spring… Better to cherish the one who stands before you now…"

Because the Old Master was ill, all of the dishes that evening were light.

Autumn was the season for plump crabs, but crab was a cooling food. There was a dish of crab roe tofu that the Old Master couldn't eat much of, and he could only watch wistfully as Lin Zhi and Ming Yao ate. After dinner, he huffily shooed the two of them out.

"The older he gets, the more like a child he becomes. He wasn't like this when he was young."

Lin Zhi turned his head and looked at Ming Yao, who had rarely initiated conversation — now doing so unprompted — and asked with curiosity: "What was Grandfather like before?"

"Upright. Stern. Not given to laughter. Demanding."

Lin Zhi looked Ming Yao up and down. Ming Yao pressed his lips together, understanding the implication.

Those words could just as easily describe himself, but the truth was they weren't quite the same.

Lin Zhi said with a smile: "Then it sounds like you must have been raised very strictly as a child."

At that, Ming Yao seemed to drift off for a moment, as though sinking into fragments of the past.

The weather had been poor today, and darkness had fallen early outside. Beyond the car windows, everything was deep shadow.

The car's headlights, not quite fully bright, caught Ming Yao's profile and cast a layer of soft light over him.

"Yes. He was always strict. My grandmother used to complain about it often."

Ming Yao answered, then steered the subject back to the Old Master.

Lin Zhi sensed that Ming Yao was deliberately sidestepping his question. It was clear that he still couldn't touch on Ming Yao's past just yet.

That was perfectly normal. Being interested in someone didn't mean you had to share everything about yourself with them — especially the knots buried deep in the heart, the ones unknown to others, the ones impossible to speak of.

Still, judging by Ming Yao's demeanor, Lin Zhi felt that the day he could touch on it wasn't far off. Lin Zhi had already formed a plan in his mind. He only needed to wait.

The car moved smoothly along the road. When they arrived home, the driver opened the door for Ming Yao.

Before stepping into the elevator, Ming Yao mentioned, as if in passing: "There's a banquet the day after tomorrow. Come with me. I'll have your clothes prepared."

Lin Zhi nodded and entered the elevator with him.

The number on the elevator display climbed steadily. The fourth floor arrived quickly.

Lin Zhi asked, as if suddenly remembering: "Don't I need to choose them myself? You might not know my measurements."

"I know them. I took them myself."

Ming Yao's expression remained as cool and detached as always, but his words created an absolute contrast.

Cold-toned desire — like glaciers swept by a storm.

Ming Yao watched Lin Zhi with calm eyes and asked: "Shall I verify them?"

The moment passed. The elevator doors slid slowly shut.

The number jumped upward to the fifth floor.