Aanya's heart was pounding wildly. She felt that if she stayed there even a second longer, Zhen would hear every beat. She jerked her hand free and stammered.
To hide her nervousness, Aanya yawned and, avoiding Zhen's gaze, said, "Oh… Zhen, I'm so sleepy! We'll talk about all this nonsense tomorrow. Good night!"
She turned sharply and dashed toward her room. Zhen remained seated with his usual poise, a mysterious smile playing on his lips. As soon as Aanya disappeared into the corridor, Zhen gestured to his loyal old servant, Chang.
Zhen, in a slow, cold voice, said, "Chang, scare her enough so that no place in this entire mansion feels safe except my room. But remember… do not let her get a scratch. Only shadows, sounds, and that old fear."
Chang bowed. "Yes, Master Yan. Your wish will be fulfilled."
That terrifying night in the mansion
As soon as Aanya entered her room, she locked the door from inside. Her heart was still racing from Zhen's closeness and the earlier 'kick drama.'
Muttering to herself, Aanya whispered, "Saved! Just barely. This Zhen is getting more dangerous by the day. But… did he really say my kissing skills aren't that bad? Ugh, Aanya! What are you thinking?"
Then… scrrrr… The windowpane rattled gently, as if someone outside was dragging their fingernails across it. Aanya stiffened like stone. "It's just the wind… it's just the wind," she reassured herself.
But suddenly, a chilling gust of icy air swept through the room, as if someone had run past her. Gathering courage, Aanya lowered her blanket slightly. The lights she had left on began to flicker… tick-tick-tick… and then the power in the entire mansion went out.
The silence was so profound that Aanya could hear her own breathing clearly. Then, a sound echoed from the corridor.
Tap… tap… tap…
Someone was walking with wet feet along the hallway. The sound stopped outside her door. Aanya's eyes widened as she glimpsed a dark shadow through the crack at the bottom of the door. The shadow remained there, unmoving.
Suddenly, from the corner of the room, the old piano played a jarring, eerie melody. Aanya wanted to scream, but fear choked her voice. Then, a cold whisper sounded near her ear… like a woman crying.
"Aanya… help me…"
The voice was so real that Aanya fell off the bed. At that exact moment, the wall clock began to strike loudly, and all the glass in the room trembled. It felt as though invisible hands were pulling her beneath the bed.
"Save me! Zhen!" Aanya screamed.
Stumbling in the dark, she flung open the door and ran toward the corridor. But the hallway was no longer as she had always known it. A thick mist had settled, and the faces in the paintings on the walls seemed to watch her. Behind her came a terrifying scream, as if someone were chasing her to catch her.
Aanya did not dare to look back. The only thought in her mind was Zhen Yan's face. Desperate, she reached Zhen's room door and pounded on it frantically.
"Zhen! Open the door! Please! Zhen!"
The door suddenly swung open, and Aanya collided directly with Zhen's strong chest. She hugged him tightly, clutching his tshirt with her fists, trembling violently.
Zhen enveloped her in his arms. His smile deepened in the darkness, but there was concern in his voice. "What's wrong, Aanya? Why are you so scared? Did The Conjuring really come after you?"
"Aanya! There… there's someone in my room… a ghost!"
Zhen placed his glass on the table and pulled her closer, his chest broad and warm, giving her an immediate sense of safety.
Stroking her back, he said in a deep voice, "Shh… don't be afraid. The old shadows of this mansion often scare unwanted guests. But in my room… even death cannot step in without my permission."
He lifted her chin, his eyes piercing into hers as though reading her soul.
Aanya clung to Zhen's chest, her heart still racing. As her breathing began to stabilize, her sharp eyes caught something glowing on Zhen's bedside iPad.
Zhen was stroking her gently, like the most caring husband in the world. But Aanya's gaze froze on the iPad screen—small grids of CCTV footage.
In one window, Chang stood in the corridor holding a large portable speaker and a dry ice machine. In another, a man climbed a tree outside the window, creating the sound of fingernails scraping glass.
Aanya's fear instantly transformed into an erupting volcano of anger.
Suddenly, Zhen, with a mischievous smile, said, "Aanya, wait… all this was just an excuse to scare you. Did you really think there were actual ghosts in this mansion? This was all under my command."
Aanya's eyes blazed with fury. She yelled, "What? You scared me this much just for a joke? I'm going downstairs right now!"
But as she turned, Zhen quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him. This time, there was a stubborn intensity in his hold.
Looking deeply into her eyes, Zhen said, "No more excuses, Mrs. Yan. Neither horror movies, nor sleepiness, nor ghosts. You came to my room on your own… and now, you will fulfill your promise."
Aanya's heart raced wildly. Zhen's face was so close that she couldn't step back.
Zhen, whispering, said, "Say my name, Aanya… and give me the feeling you gave 'Jungkook' last night. But this time… fully conscious."
Aanya's breath caught. She understood that today, the 'grumpy' Zhen would not let her go easily.
As Zhen leaned slowly toward her, the atmosphere in the room completely changed. There was no joke, no horror movie fear, no contract. Only the rapid beating of their hearts.
Zhen's eyes fixed on Aanya's trembling lips. Aanya closed her eyes softly, her hands still clutching his shirt. She felt Zhen's warm breath on her neck.
Zhen, in an extremely low voice, said, "Aanya… say my name."
Aanya took a deep breath, summoning all her courage.
Whispering, she said, "Zhen… Zhen Yan…"
The moment his name escaped her lips, Zhen wasted no time. He pressed his lips gently onto hers. It was not the 'drunken' kiss of last night, nor was it rushed. It was a promise, a feeling, a recognition that now they were bound not merely by agreement but by something far deeper.
Aanya's body stiffened initially, but Zhen's warmth and scent melted her. She realized that 'Jungkook' had been just a dream—but this… this was reality, and it was breathtakingly beautiful.
After a few moments, Zhen pulled back slightly, but he did not release Aanya from his embrace. His eyes shone with a peculiar glow, as if he had just won a great battle.
Smiling, Zhen said, "So… Mrs. Yan, is the score even now? Or do you need another 'demo' to prove that I'm better than Jungkook?"
Aanya's face was completely red now. She buried her head against Zhen's chest to avoid his mischievous eyes.
"You… you are such a big villain, Zhen! Let me sleep now, or tomorrow in the office, I'll put salt in your coffee!"
Zhen laughed softly and held her even closer.
As the 'magical moment' ended, Aanya suddenly realized what she had done. Her face burned so hot that she felt she might melt. Zhen still looked at her with that intoxicating smile, as if celebrating his victory.
Stammering, Aanya whispered, "O-Okay! The score is even! Now… now I'm going! Good night!"
She slipped out of Zhen's arms as if struck by lightning. In the darkness and panic, she reached for her slippers—but she had actually grabbed Zhen's massive leather men's slippers.
Aanya's tiny feet got stuck in the oversized slippers, and she ran toward her room like a child trying to wear her father's shoes. She stumbled twice, barely catching herself, but didn't stop until she slammed the door shut behind her.
Meanwhile, Zhen, still in a romantic mood, watched Aanya's 'heroic act' in amazement. He looked down at the floor—there lay Aanya's tiny slippers alone.
Zhen thought, "This girl… is truly insane!"
Then he laughed. At first, softly. But then he remembered Aanya's running 'duck-like' steps and burst out laughing loudly, clutching his stomach. His laughter echoed throughout the silent mansion.
"Ugh… Aanya! You… you're going to give me a heart attack! My stomach hurts… hahaha! Who steals a husband's slippers right after a romantic night?"
Zhen's laughter resonated through the entire mansion, while Aanya leaned against her door, berating herself for her foolishness.