A subtle fragrance drifted from Shen Chi Yan's body - a perfume Song Qi Nian had discreetly researched. It was from a boutique French perfume house.
The scent opened with bright notes of lemon and neroli, captivating yet fresh. As it settled, it revealed hints of steeped tea leaves, bringing an immediate sense of tranquility. Underneath lay an intriguing blend of wood and tobacco notes that seemed to play hide and seek with her senses.
Song Qi Nian's heart pounded against her ribs as heat crept into her cheeks.
"The Smiths are perceptive. We can't let them see through our act. You must have dated before - you know how couples behave in their honeymoon phase, right?"
Song Qi Nian's lips tightened at his "must have" assumption.
Her heart had only ever belonged to him. What other dating experience could she possibly have?
Still, even without firsthand experience, she'd seen enough to understand. How hard could it be to show affection?
Besides, since this was all an act according to Shen Chi Yan, anything she did would simply be helping secure the business deal.
Emboldened by this thought, Song Qi Nian cradled his face in her hands and pressed her lips against his.
Shen Chi Yan tensed, ready to snap - until he caught sight of the Smiths walking in. Something flickered in his dark eyes as he wrapped an arm around Song Qi Nian's waist and deepened the kiss.
Moments later, he pulled away. With gentle fingers, he tucked a wayward strand of her hair behind her ear. His voice came out low and rich, tinged with affection: "That's enough, no fooling around in public."
Before their marriage, Song Qi Nian had frequently seen his smiles. Each one would reveal that endearing dimple in his right cheek, melting away his cold exterior like sunshine breaking through winter frost.
After marriage, his smiles turned to sneers, cold and mocking.
Seeing genuine warmth in his expression now left her spellbound.
Noticing her fixed gaze, Shen Chi Yan's brows creased slightly. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, "You're overacting!"
The words hit her like a slap. Reality crashed back, leaving an ache in her chest.
"Smith, Daphne, I apologize for that display."
Only then did Song Qi Nian register Smiths' presence.
Shen Chi Yan held Song Qi Nian's hand as he made the introductions. "This is my beloved wife Song Qi Nian. Qiqi..."
The nickname "Qiqi" seemed to slip out unplanned. He caught himself, then continued with his smile intact, "This is Mr. Smith, and this is his wife, Miss Daphne Smith."
His Italian flowed smoothly, his voice rich and captivating. Song Qi Nian found herself drawn in by the sound, but she quickly remembered why they were here. Composing herself, she offered her hand with a warm smile.
"I apologize - my wife cannot speak, but when she learned you'd traveled from Italy, she insisted on being here to welcome you properly."
The Smiths' faces fell slightly when they learned this ethereal-looking woman couldn't speak. "Such a pity."
But Song Qi Nian had her smile - her greatest asset. The Smiths had taken issue with Shen Chi Yan before, put off by his cold arrogance and the way he carried himself as if above everyone else.
They'd been particularly offended when, at their first meeting, he'd pulled on black gloves immediately after shaking their hands. But today, they saw a different man - one who'd stepped down from his pedestal to reveal a more human side.
The couple had been reluctant to attend this meeting, but given Shen Chi Yan's influence in Jinghua City and Dingsheng Group's standing, an outright refusal wasn't an option.
"There's nothing to pity. My wife's inability to speak doesn't diminish my love for her in the slightest."
Song Qi Nian maintained her smile even as his words stung. She knew they were just for show, meant to seal the deal.
Their eyes met, exchanging looks filled with apparent devotion.
Shen Chi Yan was acting.
Song Qi Nian wasn't.
Once seated, Shen Chi Yan and Mr. Smith conversed in Italian while Song Qi Nian typed out messages to Daphne in English on her phone.
"I'm sorry I can't speak with you directly, Miss Daphne. I hope it's alright if we chat this way."
Daphne's answering smile was polite but cool. Song Qi Nian noticed her gaze repeatedly dropping to Shen Chi Yan's gloved hands with barely concealed displeasure, and she began to piece together the situation.
Song Qi Nian bent over her phone, typing carefully before passing it to Daphne with a gentle smile.
"I know the gloves seem odd in this heat. My husband actually has severe mysophobia. He gets allergic reactions and rashes if he's not careful, so he has to wear them year-round."
Daphne's piercing gaze settled on Song Qi Nian's sweet face as she read the message.
Song Qi Nian continued typing: "I worry about him, especially in summer. The gloves make his hands break out in heat rash. And people often take it the wrong way, thinking he's being rude. But that's not it at all."
Though Shen Chi Yan was deep in conversation with Mr. Smith, he kept one eye on Song Qi Nian.
She remained focused on her phone, engaged in some private exchange with Daphne. Their eyes would occasionally drift his way. Song Qi Nian's face was animated as she typed, while Daphne remained cool but at least wasn't showing signs of boredom.
"Well, if it isn't CEO Shen and Mr. Smith?"
The unwelcome voice made Shen Chi Yan look up with a frown, only to see Zhou Mingsheng's insufferable face. He was dressed in a black suit, his wife Lu Yuzhu draped in designer brands beside him.
Zhou Mingsheng played it off as a chance meeting and, with zero social grace, invited himself to join their table.
His little scheme wasn't lost on Shen Chi Yan.
Mr. Smith's face brightened at Zhou Mingsheng's arrival, and he quickly offered him a seat.
Despite his distaste, Shen Chi Yan couldn't exactly turn them away.
Their intimate group of four became an awkward six.
When Zhou Mingsheng learned about Song Qi Nian's muteness, he let out a harsh laugh. "CEO Shen, you really know how to make waves when you finally settle down. Every woman in Jinghua City must be crying her eyes out - and you chose a mute beauty."
His eyes crawled over Song Qi Nian as he sneered, "Which family produced this Miss Song?"
"My wife may not come from wealth, but she holds a place in my heart no one else can touch."
"Oh really? I heard CEO Shen has a soft spot for the Lin family's daughter - the one who's been bedridden for three years now?"
Song Qi Nian’s chest tightened—Zhou Mingsheng really had a knack for hitting all the wrong nerves.
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