Chapter 3: The Devil’s Little Sweetheart

In his wardrobe, crisp white shirts hung neatly in a straight line, like an army of troops—all identical.

Shen Qianshu picked a midnight blue suit for him that complemented the white shirt easily. Shen Qianshu flushed a deep red, looking away hurriedly when Ye Ling unashamedly changed in front of her eyes. Although he normally looked pale, he had a great build. Having honey-colored skin, and a firm strong chest, he was the greatest example of a ‘clothes-hanger’—one who looked good in anything and everything. Clothed, he looked slim. Unclothed, he was muscular. His legs were long and slim, a definite positive. Just as Shen Qianshu was about to leave the room, Ye Ling commanded, “Come here!”

He retrieved a tie from the wardrobe and handed it to Shen Qianshu. Other than the lower three buttons, the rest of the white shirt hung loosely, exposing his firm torso. Shen Qianshu immediately understood his intentions. With her delicate hands, she took the tie and carefully buttoned the rest of the shirt up for him.

Ye Ling lowered his head slightly and looked at her long, delicate fingers moving around on his shirt. She had beautiful hands that moved around like dancing notes and her nails were trimmed round and clean. Her fingertips accidentally brushed across his chest.

Shen Qianshu seemed to be frightened and immediately lowered her head. He could only see her red ears.

“Are you afraid of me?” Ye Ling asked.

Shen Qianshu shook her head, but the redness in her ears intensified.

Ye Ling’s gaze was so cold it could freeze up the entire room.

Liar!

A neutral fragrance lingered all around her, subtle, yet very appealing. He recalled resting on her lap. Whenever his headache became overbearing, the smell of that fragrance would give him a deep sense of comfort and soothe his pain away.

Ye Ling was too tall.

Shen Qianshu could not reach, yet he stood bolt upright with no inclination of bending down. The only thing left that she could do was to stand on her toes, reaching up around his neck. This close to him, she could feel his light breath on her and her hormones surged, sweeping through her body and overpowering her senses. Shen Qianshu felt her cheeks burning.

In a fumble, she painstakingly put his tie on for him.

With his shirt on and tie done, Ye Ling put on the midnight blue vest and suit. He looked like he could defeat anything and everything. Energetic and charismatic, he was like a high-born aristocrat, distinguished and indifferent.

After Ye Ling left the castle, Shen Qianshu went back to the living room downstairs to begin on her revision.

She was an exchange student who had applied to study jewelry design in Paris College of Arts. Before school started, she had half a year of language class. She had come over two months earlier to settle in and adjust to the culture, surroundings and the language, as well as to try and earn some money.

As Shen Qianshu listened to her French classes online, she drew sketches of jewelry designs.

Unknowingly, she fell asleep on the table.

Lately, she had been both physically and mentally drained by Ye Ling.

Almost everyday, she massaged him for four hours. Her two arms were constantly sore, aching so much that they were stiff and felt like she had artificial limbs.

When Ye Ling returned, he saw her looking unglamorous as she slept on a pile of sketch papers.

The sun shone brightly, yet he appeared as if he was covered in a layer of frost. He walked over and stared down at Shen Qianshu in a condescending manner. She lay, head tilted sideways, with her black, silky hair hanging down and obscuring half of her face, whilst also revealing her fair, milky skin. It was pleasantly fair with a hint of peach across her delicate cheeks.

Ye Ling stared at her intently. Not knowing what he was thinking about, he squinted at her closely. The sketches around her caught his attention. He raised his eyebrow and picked them up.

They were all sketches of jewelry designs.

When Shen Qianshu woke up, she rubbed her eyes in a daze.

“Master, you’re back?”

“Yes,” Ye Ling replied coldly. As Shen Qianshu realized that he was looking at her sketches, she blushed and snatched them back. Ye Ling stared at her coldly. He was dissatisfied with her aggressiveness, so he attacked her works viciously.

“A pile of trash. What’s the snatching for?”

“Who are you to say that my designs are trash!” Shen Qianshu’s cheeks flushed, her eyes sparking angrily as she raised her head and retaliated, forgetting Butler Luther’s warning. This was the first time she reacted against Ye Ling’s viciousness and arrogance.