The moment Kaya and Aanya started talking about their husbands, Kaya began jokingly listing her husband's flaws and virtues. Aanya was just about to say something about Zhen when he—who had been pretending to sleep—suddenly sat up. His patience had finally run out.
In one swift move, Zhen snatched the phone from Aanya's hand. Kaya was startled when she suddenly saw Zhen appear on the screen like that.
Zhen (in a strict, authoritative voice): "That's enough bad-mouthing me. You've said more than enough."
Looking directly at Kaya without the slightest hesitation, he added, "Kaya, Aanya will talk tomorrow. She urgently needs rest right now, and it's time for her to sleep."
Without waiting for Kaya's reply, Zhen cut the call and placed the phone on the side table. Once again, silence filled the room—but this time, Zhen's anger and authority were clearly palpable in the air. Aanya stared at him in shock.
Zhen (leaning toward Aanya): "Now turn off the lights and go to sleep. If I hear any more gossip about myself next time, you won't be getting your phone back."
Aanya wanted to say something, but the depth and seriousness in Zhen's eyes silenced her. Quietly, she turned off the lights and pulled the blanket over herself, while Zhen remained seated there, watching her in the darkness.
The room was silent in the dark, but a storm of memories was raging in both their hearts. Aanya picked up a pillow and placed it between herself and Zhen like a wall. She was afraid that if she got any closer to him, her heart might begin to melt—and right now, she was absolutely not in the mood to forgive Zhen. She turned to her side and tried to sleep.
On the other side, sleep was miles away from Zhen's eyes. Having Aanya so close reminded him of their wedding night.
Flashback: 3 months earlier
The day when they were forced to share the same bed for the first time in front of the family to appear like a 'happy couple.' Zhen remembered how completely uncontrollable Aanya became in her sleep. Sometimes she would smack him with her hand; sometimes she would throw her leg over him. Unknowingly, she would try to move closer and cling to him in her sleep. At that time, Zhen had lain there like a stone statue, thinking how strange this girl was.
Then that 'kiss' from that night suddenly resurfaced in Zhen's mind. Although it had all been an act—a show to convince the family—the warmth of that touch could still be felt by him even today. He had not been able to forget the softness of Aanya's lips or the rapid rhythm of her heartbeat.
Present: Back in the room
Zhen turned his neck and looked toward Aanya. She kept shifting her position restlessly. Sometimes she pulled the blanket; sometimes she clutched the pillow tightly. Because of her injury—and perhaps because of Zhen's presence—she could not find peace.
Her foot crossed the pillow 'wall' and brushed against Zhen's leg. Zhen froze. He noticed Aanya mumbling in her sleep, and her hand slowly moved toward Zhen's shirt, as if she were searching for support in the darkness.
Zhen took a deep breath. He extended his hand and very gently—so that Aanya would not wake—moved the loose strands of hair away from her forehead.
Zhen (in his mind): "No matter how much you pretend, Aanya… and no matter how much hatred I show… the truth is that both of us are incomplete without each other."
In her sleep, Aanya shifted again, and this time her face was turned toward Zhen. Seeing her innocence, Zhen's stone-like heart once again began to melt like wax.
When Aanya opened her eyes in the morning, the first thing she did was reach out beside her—but while the pillow was there, Zhen was not. Startled, she glanced at the clock—9 a.m.!
Panic instantly erupted in Aanya's mind. "It's already 9? The housework, breakfast—everything must still be pending!" She thought Zhen must either be angry or already gone to the office. She quickly got out of bed and, fixing her messy hair, hurried out of the room.
The sound of utensils clinking came from outside.
But the sight that greeted her made her doubt her own eyes.
Shenshen's biggest business tycoon, Zhen Yan—the man who had probably never even picked up his own water bottle—was standing in the kitchen today! The sleeves of his expensive shirt were rolled up, and he was carefully washing the dishes. The floor of the house was gleaming, as if he had mopped it himself.
Aanya quietly walked toward the dining table. Breakfast was already laid out. But the moment she saw the condition of the food, she almost burst into laughter. Some bread slices were half burnt, the omelette's shape looked like a world map, and there was a bit of mess around the juice glass.
Zhen turned around. There was a little soap on his face, and sweat was dripping down.
Zhen (slightly embarrassed): "You're awake? I… I tried to keep everything proper. The breakfast got a little burnt, but it's still edible. Now quietly sit and eat—you need to take your medicine."
Aanya looked at the burnt toast and then at Zhen's unusually innocent face. She couldn't understand whether to get angry or smile at this 'Emperor's' effort.
Aanya (softly): "You… why did you do all this?"
Zhen avoided her gaze and went back to scrubbing the dishes. "Duty… I'm just fulfilling my duty." But his trembling voice revealed that this was more than duty—it was his love and guilt.
Aanya broke off a piece of the half-burnt toast and put it into her mouth. The toast tasted slightly bitter, and the omelette had a bit too much salt—but Aanya could taste the effort of that 'stone-hearted' Zhen and the exhaustion of his sleepless night in it.
She kept eating silently. Zhen, who had been wrestling with the dishes until now, wiped his hands and came toward the dining table. There was a strange restlessness in his eyes—the same restlessness a chef has while serving his first dish.
Zhen (carefully watching Aanya's face): "How is it? I mean… it's edible, right?"
For a moment, Aanya lifted her gaze. She noticed water splashes on Zhen's shirt and sweat still lingering on his forehead. A pang stirred inside her. She could have made him feel worse—but she didn't.
Aanya (hiding a faint smile): "It's not bad. At least it doesn't taste like poison."
Relief visibly washed over Zhen's face. He let out a quiet breath and sat down on the chair opposite Aanya.
Zhen (seriously): "Next time… next time I'll make it better. I know I've never done any of this before, but I'm learning."
Aanya finished the last piece of toast. She could feel that Zhen was not just learning to cook—he was trying to mend the relationships he himself had once broken.
Suddenly, Aanya's gaze fell on Zhen's hand. One of his fingers had a burn mark from the hot pan.
Aanya (shocked): "Zhen, your hand is burned!"
Zhen quickly pulled his hand back, as if hiding his weakness.
Zhen: "It's nothing—just a small mark. You finish your breakfast and take your medicine."
Aanya stood up and, without saying anything, went to get the first-aid box. Zhen watched her leave—he understood that Aanya's anger had not ended yet… but her care for him was still alive.