Aanya returned with the first-aid box and, without saying a word, pulled Zhen's hand toward herself. Zhen tried to protest, but seeing the seriousness in Aanya's eyes, he fell silent.
With utmost gentleness, Aanya applied medicine to his burn mark. The cool touch of the cream seemed to reach straight to Zhen's heart.
Zhen watched her intently. He realized that although Aanya was acting tough with her words, her touch was still the same as before—soft and full of care.
Once Aanya finished bandaging his finger, Zhen slowly freed his hand and stood up.
Zhen (in a commanding voice): "That's enough. You go and rest in your room. I'll handle the rest of the work myself."
Aanya glanced at the messy kitchen and the pile of dishes in the sink, then looked at Zhen's tired face. A mischievous and doubtful smile appeared on her lips.
Aanya (letting out a soft laugh): "You? Will you be able to manage? Zhen, these aren't office files that you can fix by scolding them. This is housework."
It was as if Zhen's masculinity had been challenged. He rolled his shirt sleeves even higher and stood with his hands on his waist.
Zhen (with pride): "Nothing is impossible for Zhen Yan. If I can handle deals worth millions, then what are a few plates and a broom? Just leave from here, or I'll have to carry you back to your room by force."
Aanya raised her brows. She knew Zhen always stood by his words. Smiling faintly, she slowly began walking toward the stairs.
Aanya (turning back): "Alright, Mr. Perfect. I'm going upstairs. But if something breaks or the house catches fire, don't call me!"
Zhen watched her leave, and the moment she turned away, he let out a long breath and marched toward the sink as if heading into a battlefield. He had no idea that the real challenge was only about to begin.
Zhen's condition—while trying to mop the floor—was worth watching. Sometimes he knelt, sometimes he bent awkwardly, but his back and hands were clearly not cooperating. The 'Emperor of Shenzhen' had turned into a cleaning worker today, and sweat was pouring down his face.
Aanya, who was standing at the doorway of her room upstairs watching all this, could not hold back her laughter. Quietly, she took out her phone and began recording a video of Zhen's helpless struggle.
Aanya (teasing): "Wow! Impressive. If I send this video to your office group, just imagine what will happen. Everyone will see how their dangerous boss mops the floor at home!"
The moment Zhen heard Aanya's voice, he straightened up abruptly. When he saw she was recording him, his face turned red with embarrassment and anger.
Zhen (sternly): "Aanya! Give me that phone right now. This is not a joke!"
Aanya (playfully): "Nope! The world deserves to see how 'multi-talented' Mr. Zhen Yan really is."
Zhen threw the mop aside and dashed toward the stairs with lightning speed. Seeing him coming, Aanya immediately ran toward her room.
Zhen: "Stop, Aanya! If I catch you, it won't be good!"
Laughing, Aanya ran through the corridor, ignoring her injury as she enjoyed the moment. Zhen followed close behind, the anger on his face now mixed with a hunter-like smile. The hatred and tension between them seemed to hide behind this small game.
Just as Aanya turned back to look behind her, she changed direction and ran across the floor—but the floor was still slightly wet. Her foot slipped and she staggered.
Zhen, who was right behind her, lunged forward to catch her before she could fall.
But their speed was too great. Neither of them could regain balance.
With a hard shove—
THUD!
Both of them fell to the floor.
As they fell, Zhen used all his strength to make sure Aanya wouldn't get hurt. And the very first thing he did proved his alertness and concern.
Zhen quickly placed his palm behind Aanya's head—right at the spot where her bandage was—so that her head wouldn't hit the hard floor.
The room fell completely silent.
Only their heavy breaths could be heard.
Aanya's eyes widened in shock—Zhen's face was so close that she could see her own reflection in his eyes.
There was no anger in Zhen's gaze now—only deep concern. His hand was still supporting her head.
Zhen (breathing heavily, in a worried voice): "You're not hurt, right? I told you not to run… are you crazy? What if your injury had worsened?"
Aanya couldn't say a word.
One of her hands rested on Zhen's strong shoulder, the other on his chest. She could feel how fast Zhen's heart was beating—just like hers. The 'knot' in her mind seemed to dissolve into smoke in the closeness of this moment.
When Zhen noticed Aanya staring at him, his gaze dropped to her lips and then to the bandage on her head. Very slowly, he lifted his hand toward her face, as if he wanted to make sure his 'life' was truly safe.
Just then, the sound of someone's footsteps echoed from the corridor outside.The tension between Zhen and Aanya had melted in that moment. Zhen's gaze was fixed on Aanya's lips as he slowly leaned toward her. The air in the room seemed to have frozen. But at that exact moment—
"Hey! Come downstairs for food—" Huan Jing and Qian suddenly appeared at the door.
The instant they saw Zhen and Aanya on the floor in that state, both of them froze mid-step. With lightning speed, Qian covered Huan Jing's eyes with one hand and tightly shut his own eyes with the other.
Qian (stammering): "Oh! Sorry… sorry, Boss! We… we didn't know you guys were… I mean, we just came to call you for dinner."
Huan Jing (whispering with her eyes still closed): "Aanya… was the bed not enough that you two had to end up on the floor…?"
Aanya's face turned crimson with embarrassment, and she immediately pushed Zhen off her. Zhen also hurriedly stood up, dusting his clothes as he tried to regain his lost composure.
Zhen (clearing his throat): "It's not what you two are thinking. The floor was wet—Aanya was slipping, and I fell while trying to catch her."
Qian slowly opened one eye and looked at Zhen with a knowing smile. He knew very well how much his 'ruthless boss' had changed today. Meanwhile, when Huan Jing's gaze fell upon the condition of the entire house—the smell of burnt toast, water scattered across the floor, and the bandage on Zhen's hand—she burst out laughing.
Huan Jing: "Zhen Yan… the Emperor of Shenzhen… and the house looks like this? It feels like a storm just passed through here!"
Seeing Zhen being thoroughly exposed, Qian immediately rolled up his sleeves.
Qian: "Alright, Boss, that's enough. You sit with Aanya. Jing and I will clean up this 'storm.'"
The very next moment, Qian and Huan Jing got busy cleaning the house together. Qian took charge of the mop while Huan Jing began fixing the kitchen. Zhen finally admitted defeat and, with a faint smile, started helping them again.
Aanya sat on the sofa, watching the three of them. Their playful bickering while doing housework, Qian teasing Zhen, and Jing's cheerful laughter… Aanya's heart filled with warmth.
For the first time, she felt that this stone mansion truly looked like a home.
She looked toward Zhen, who was dusting the sofa alongside Qian. A genuine smile slowly appeared on Aanya's face.