Chapter 4: Sharing a Bed

Finally, it was Julian who spoke, "Let’s go home."

They returned to a villa under Julian’s name called "Xiyuan," which Beatrice had prepared long ago as his wedding home.

Because he had stalled on marriage for years, Beatrice had found him eyesore and kicked him out to live here, claiming it was to "adjust to married life in advance."

Tonight, Xiyuan finally welcomed its mistress.

Clara followed Julian inside and scanned the interior.

Her first impression was—cold.

Even though Beatrice had specifically arranged for servants to add some wedding decorations today, it couldn't change the house's original temperament—cool, solemn, and sharp-lined, just like its owner.

A pair of women's slippers, prepared in advance by the servants, sat by the shoe cabinet. Clara sat on the bench and leaned down to change shoes, her body curving into a graceful arc.

When Julian turned around, he caught sight of a slender, elegant waist, and further down, the soft curve of her hips.

Julian’s gaze felt as if it had been scorched; he immediately looked away. He walked to the kitchen island, poured himself a glass of ice water, and downed it.

"What would you like to drink?" he asked.

Clara was struggling with the buckle of her high heels and answered without looking up, "Rose lemon honey water."

Julian opened the fridge, then the cabinets, and fell silent for a moment. "There are no roses."

"Then lemon honey water is fine."

"No lemons."

"...Honey water?"

"No honey either."

Only Julian had lived in this house before. He only drank water, never flavored beverages, so the servants hadn't prepared any.

Clara sighed at the ceiling, shuffled over in her slippers, and said, "A glass of water, please."

Today, a row of various bright-colored cups had appeared on the island. Julian could tell at a glance they were sent from the Jiang household. He reached for a white porcelain cup to pour water, but Clara stopped him. "Wait, not that one. That’s for my flower tea."

Under Julian’s puzzled gaze, she pointed to a rubber duck mug. "Use that one."

Why couldn't a tea cup be used for water? Julian didn't understand, but he respected it.

He took the mug, poured a glass of warm water, and placed it before her.

Buzz— Buzz—

A phone vibrated nearby. He glanced at it, took the phone, and said to Clara, "I have an important call. Make yourself at home."

Clara’s question of "Where do I sleep tonight?" got stuck in her throat.

She wandered around the house alone and eventually found her personal belongings in the master bedroom on the second floor. Her clothes had been neatly placed in the walk-in closet, hanging right next to Julian’s.

His clothes were exclusively black, white, and gray, with a singular style—mostly sharp-cut business suits.

Hers, however, came in far too many colors and various styles, vivid to the point of being flamboyant.

Putting them together looked entirely discordant.

Clara took a nightgown and went into the bathroom for a shower.

When she came out, she stood by the bedside, looking at the large bed and biting her lip in internal conflict.

Even though they were legally married, the thought of sharing a bed with a man she’d only met twice made her chest tighten.

She took a deep breath. Since she had promised to fulfill her duties as a wife, she couldn't back down on the first day.

It’s just sleeping together, no big deal.

Clara pushed her hesitation aside, lifted the duvet, and climbed in.

The silk bedding was soft and cool, emitting a faint, clean fragrance. Her nerves, which had been taut all day, slowly began to relax, and she drifted off into a daze.

Until the sound of water came from the bathroom.

Julian stood before the vanity, silently looking at the new row of bottles and jars.

The wide countertop, over a meter long, was now mostly occupied. His few items were huddled miserably in a corner.

On the faucet, a single strand of hair was caught.

He picked up the strand; the slightly wavy black hair coiled around his finger, feeling silky and soft.

Tossing the hair into the bin at his feet, he stripped and walked into the shower.

The smart shower started instantly. Julian was startled by the scalding water and quickly stepped aside.

He looked up at the temperature screen. It wasn't his usual 30°C setting, but 42°C.

He didn't need to think twice to know this was his new wife’s doing.

He couldn't help but frown. Did she really not find this temperature too hot?

The colorful bottles on the counter, the black hair on the faucet, the high water temperature, and the sweet scent lingering in the air—everything was a silent reminder: there was now another person in his life.

A moment later, Julian walked out wearing a black bathrobe.

The room was lit only by a single wall lamp. The woman on the bed was facing away from him, curled up at the edge under the duvet.

But he clearly remembered that when he first returned to the room, she had been lying in the center, arms exposed, in a relaxed and natural posture.

Julian lifted the duvet, lay down, and turned off the light.

Darkness magnified every sense. The rustle of fabric, the slight dip of the mattress, and the crisp, post-shower scent on him... Clara told herself again not to be nervous, but she still couldn't help holding her breath, her body tensing as her fingers gripped the sheets.

The man’s deep, slightly husky voice rang out in the night.

"I won't force you."

"Sleep easy."

After a few heartbeats of silence, he heard her let out a very soft breath as her body finally relaxed.

Julian couldn't help but curve his lips slightly as he closed his eyes.

The next morning, Julian woke up from a sensation of heat.

He lowered his eyelids, his gaze complex as he looked at the woman in his arms.

She was sound asleep, breathing steadily, one hand draped across his chest and one leg hooked over his waist.

Julian lifted a corner of the duvet, and his brow twitched violently.

Her nightgown had ridden up to her waist, revealing long, flawless legs, a delicate waist, and a faint silhouette of her curves. Her skin was dazzlingly white in the morning light.

Julian’s breath hitched, his throat tightened, and a certain part of his body reacted instantly. He stared at the spot in disbelief, then closed his eyes, waiting for the reaction to subside on its own.

To his surprise, that spot, which usually calmed down quickly, remained defiant.

He had no choice but to move her hand and leg, tuck her back in with the duvet, and head to the bathroom.

Cold water poured over his head. He tilted his face up, eyes closed, his brow tensed as his Adam's apple slid restlessly.

On the bed, Clara knew nothing of this, still sleeping peacefully.

She woke up two hours later.

She checked under the duvet and saw her nightgown was relatively neat, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

She knew her sleeping habits too well; she often rolled around everywhere. Sometimes clothes that were fine before sleep would end up at her waist or even her chest by morning.

Luckily, she had been well-behaved today. Feeling quite relieved, Clara changed and went downstairs.

"Good morning, Madam." A middle-aged woman greeted her with a beaming smile.

Clara smiled back. "Hello. How should I call you?"

"My name is Martha. I work for the Vanes. Everyone calls me Mrs. Martha," she said with a smile. "Breakfast is ready. Would you like to eat now?"

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Martha."

Mrs. Martha brought a plate of crystal shrimp dumplings, a bowl of yam and lean meat porridge, and a delicate side dish.

Clara sat at the table and asked, "Julian isn't here?"

"Julian left for the office early this morning." Mrs. Martha’s face crinkled like a chrysanthemum. "Please try it, Madam. If it's not to your taste, I'll make something else."

Hearing her call him Julian, Clara assumed she was close to the family. She smiled and said, "No need to be so formal. Call me Clary; that's what my family calls me."

"Oh, alright!"

Clara finished every bit of the breakfast, which made Mrs. Martha very happy.

Oh, this girl is so beautiful, as fresh as a flower, and she has such a good appetite. Her young master is truly blessed!

"Before Julian left, he told me to buy some roses, lemons, and honey. You need them for your water, right, Clary? Do you need anything else? I'll get them all together."

Clara’s heart stirred, and she smiled. "Nothing else for now. I'll let you know if I do."

"Okay. What would you like for lunch? I'll go grocery shopping."

"No need to prepare lunch for me. I'm going to school soon and won't be back until evening."

"Do you need me to arrange a car?"

"No, I’ll drive myself." Clara picked up her keys and drove out of Xiyuan under Mrs. Martha’s doting gaze.

Clara was currently a senior at Northampton University, majoring in fashion design and minoring in finance.

With graduation approaching, she had three hardcore professional courses and two graduation projects to prepare. she was so busy she barely had time to drink water all day.

At 8:00 PM, Julian returned home from work.

As Mrs. Martha brought the food to the table, Julian scanned the room. Before he could speak, Mrs. Martha, being very perceptive, took the initiative. "Looking for Clary? She’s not back yet. She just sent me a message saying she’s busy at school and will be back late."

Julian’s footsteps faltered. He asked an odd question, "You have her contact?"

Mrs. Martha blinked, then nodded. "Yes, she added me this morning."

As soon as she said it, she seemed to realize something and asked tentatively, "You... don't?"

Julian said nothing, sitting down at the table with a blank expression.

Mrs. Martha took the hint and added, "Shall I share it with you?"

Julian looked away. "...No need."

Mrs. Martha vaguely felt that her young master seemed a bit unhappy.

"Send a driver to wait at the school."

"Right away!"