Can't afford to pay for the takeout? Stunning CEO: Then pay with your body!

The V12 beast under the hood is humming.

The carriage was so quiet that only the sound of breathing could be heard.

Zhang Yan did not answer the question about "control".

His hand rested casually on the steering wheel at the twelve o'clock position, his slender fingers with distinct knuckles, and with each turn, the veins on the back of his hand would bulge slightly with the pull of his muscles.

Full of power, yet terrifyingly precise.

Nie Qingcheng turned to the side.

The leather seats hugged her graceful figure, and the seatbelts created a breathtaking curve.

Her gaze seemed glued to Zhang Yan's profile.

The light outside the window flashed by, and the flickering light and shadows carved cold, hard shadows on his high, straight nose.

At this moment, Zhang Yan was no longer the gentle cooking boy.

He was like a sword drawn from its sheath.

Cold, sharp, and all-encompassing.

Nie Qingcheng felt her throat was a little dry.

Having navigated the business world for many years, she had witnessed countless men driving.

Some were showing off their skills, some were tense, and some were greasy.

Only Zhang Yan.

He was talking to this steel behemoth.

That absolute dominance, through the steering wheel and the vibrations of the chassis, traveled into her body.

It made her toes curl up slightly.

"Buzz—"

A beautiful drift into the parking space.

The massive Cullinan, like a nimble black cat, glided silently into the parking space.

The tires are straightened and the engine is turned off.

The world fell silent.

Zhang Yan unbuckled his seatbelt with a swift and decisive motion.

"arrive."

The calm voice instantly severed the sticky, ambiguous atmosphere in the carriage.

Nie Qingcheng was stunned for a moment.

Is this over?

That hormonal storm that sent chills down her spine just now, this little rascal just shut it up like that?

Zhang Yan got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side.

Open the car door.

He leaned against the car door frame with one hand, looking down at the woman inside: "Not getting out? Planning to spend the night in the car?"

Nie Qingcheng didn't move.

She leaned back lazily in her chair, her long legs crossed, her skirt slipping down, and that glimpse of white skin shimmered dazzlingly in the dim garage light.

She raised her eyelids, and the beauty mark at the corner of her eye was a bewitching red.

"My legs are weak."

She reached out her hand, her voice laced with a seductive charm, as soft and sweet as a cat that had just woken up.

"That bend was too sharp, it scared my sister."

"I can't walk."

"hug."

Zhang Yan's eye twitched.

The cornering speed wasn't even over 40 miles per hour, were you scared?

That's a lie.

He looked at the female CEO in front of him, who was blatantly cheating him, and sighed.

"Mr. Nie, that's enough."

"Call me 'sister'."

Nie Qingcheng stubbornly stretched out her hand, her fingertips gently hooking in the air, "If you don't want me to hug you, then I won't get up. Anyway, this is my garage, I'm not afraid of losing face."

The standoff lasted for three seconds.

Zhang Yan resigned himself to his fate.

He bent down, slipped one hand under her knees, and wrapped the other around her slender waist, which seemed as if it would break at the slightest touch.

Lift it hard.

Nie Qingcheng hooked her arms around his neck, clinging to him like a beautiful snake.

The rich, cool fragrance instantly filled my nostrils.

That was her unique scent, sophisticated, yet deadly.

Is it heavy?

She breathed softly into my ear.

Zhang Yan looked straight ahead, carrying her towards the elevator, his arms as steady as a rock.

"good."

"Much lighter than those boxes of advanced mathematics textbooks."

Nie Qingcheng: "..."

That damn straight man!

……

weekend.

The mornings at Genting Manor are unusually quiet.

Third-floor study.

Nie Qingcheng, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, was reviewing the group's strategic plan for the next quarter.

Although it was her day off, as the person in charge, her time was never entirely her own.

But today, she seemed a little absent-minded.

His gaze kept drifting towards the window.

What is that little rascal doing?

They said they were going downstairs to read, but why is there no sound at all?

Downstairs, in the courtyard.

Zhang Yan did not read the book.

He stood in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the neatly trimmed but lifeless lawn outside, his brows furrowed slightly.

it's too cold.

This manor is just like Nie Qingcheng herself.

It's beautiful, but it lacks a touch of everyday life and a sense of comfort.

"If you're going to stay here, then you have to follow my rules."

Zhang Yan muttered to himself.

[Ding! Your daily lucky bag has been delivered!]

[Congratulations, host! You have obtained a powerful life skill: Divine Gardening (Grandmaster Level)!]

Countless pieces of knowledge about plants, soil, light, and landscaping flooded my mind like a tidal wave.

This moment.

The lawn in front of him was no longer a lawn, but a huge canvas waiting to be painted.

Zhang Yan turned around and dialed an internal phone number.

Ten minutes later.

All the servants at Genting Manor sprang into action.

Expensive imported flowers, top-quality peat moss, and Roman columns and flower stands that originally only existed on paper were continuously transported into the courtyard.

Zhang Yan changed into an old T-shirt.

He refused the gardener's help.

Roll up your sleeves to reveal your smooth forearms.

Soil removal, planting, pruning, and watering.

The soil stained the hem of his clothes, and sweat slid down his angular jawline, dripping into the black soil.

He was as focused as if he were carving a rare treasure.

The sunlight shone on him, gilding his busy figure with a golden edge.

……

Two hours later.

Nie Qingcheng finally finished signing the last document.

She took off her glasses, rubbed her sore temples, got up and went to the terrace, wanting to breathe in some fresh air.

however.

The moment her gaze fell upon the ground floor.

The pupils suddenly contracted.

That once monotonous and dull green wasteland has disappeared.

Instead, it became a dreamlike garden that seemed to have flowed out of a Monet painting.

White roses climbed all over the newly built archway, swaying gently in the breeze.

Deep red "Black Baccarat" roses and pale pink "Juliet" roses intertwine to form a sea, spreading out in a staggered and orderly manner.

Clusters of blue hydrangeas adorn the winding cobblestone path.

Colorful and full of life.

The sheer vitality that rushed towards us was so intense it was almost suffocating.

The once cold and desolate manor came alive instantly because of this sea of ​​flowers.

Nie Qingcheng stared blankly at the scene, her usually calm mind going blank for a moment.

Is this... magic?

Just then.

In the middle of a sea of ​​flowers.

The instigator seemed to have sensed something.

Zhang Yan straightened up and casually wiped the sweat from his forehead.

He looked up.

My gaze pierced through the layers of blossoms and pinpointed the figure on the third-floor terrace.

Eyes facing each other.

The sun is just right, the breeze is not dry.

Zhang Yan suddenly smiled.

That smile was clean and warm, more dazzling than the spring colors in the garden.

He picked up the gardening shears in his hand.

"Click."

I cut off a red rose that was in full bloom, with dew still clinging to its petals.

then.

He didn't speak, but simply raised the rose and gently waved it at the high and mighty queen.

His eyes were clear, yet they carried a hint of aggression that only men could understand.

As if to say:

This garden full of spring colors was all planted for you.

But this most beautiful one can only be picked by me.

"Thump!"

Nie Qingcheng clearly heard a loud bang coming from her chest.

That heart, sealed off for years by the cutthroat world of business.

At this moment.

Completely lost.