Chapter 066: Shield Against Arrows

When he woke up again, it was already ten in the morning. Han Xue-mi was still lying in bed, her brows tightly furrowed, likely suffering from the effects of last night's drinking. Li Huan glanced at her, but didn't disturb her sleep. He went to the bathroom to wash up, then headed to the hotel restaurant to order some breakfast and nutritious porridge, instructing the server to deliver it directly to his room.

By the time he returned, Han Xue-mi had just woken up. She was half-reclining against the headboard, covered by a thin blanket, one hand rubbing her groggy head as if trying to recall something. Seeing Li Huan come back, her cheeks flushed red. She tugged the blanket up to cover the skin at her chest before hesitantly asking, "Are we staying at the same hotel?"

"Yes," Li Huan nodded and explained, "You were drunk last night, so it wasn't convenient to take you home. We had to stay here for the night."

"Ah?" Han Xue-mi couldn't remember anything from the previous night. When she woke up, she found her shirt and skirt had been taken off, even her underwear was pulled down. She wasn't sure if she'd removed them in her sleep or if Li Huan had done it. "Did you... did you do anything to me last night?" Her face was as red as though she'd been dipped in rouge. It was her first time sharing a room with a man, and all her clothes were gone except for her little panties. Thankfully, her "little sister" hadn't bled—otherwise she would have been sure Li Huan was a lecher!

"Um... I... I didn't do anything!" Li Huan's body gave a sudden shudder at her question, his face flushing hot and red. Only now did he remember he'd stripped her clothes off last night, and then forgotten to help her put them back on. Did she already know what he'd done?

"As long as you didn't. If you dare lay a finger on me... I'll—I'll die right in front of you!" Han Xue-mi breathed a sigh of relief, patting her chest. Hearing Li Huan's explanation, she didn't doubt him. She just felt as if she'd been bullied, and it was almost too embarrassing to bear.

"Phew..." Li Huan exhaled deeply. Thankfully, Han Xue-mi was innocent and didn't understand much about such matters. Otherwise, he'd have truly become a shameless scoundrel, taking advantage of her.

It was the weekend, and Han Xue-mi didn't have to work. After breakfast together in the room, they checked out. As for last night, Han Xue-mi seemed not to mind at all and didn't question Li Huan further. Regarding how her clothes had come off, she found herself a perfect excuse—a giant raccoon, conveniently ignoring the fact that raccoons couldn't possibly show up in a hotel.

So, innocent girls are always happier. They don't let themselves be troubled by inexplicable events, nor do they dwell in gloom. Instead, they prefer to find an unreasonable explanation, making all the illogical and inexplicable things seem perfectly natural. Such thinking might be flawed in logic, but it's their best method of self-comfort.

After parting ways with Han Xue-mi, Li Huan intended to go home. But just as he boarded the bus, he received a call from Sun Fei-fei, which surprised him. He knew that on weekends, Sun Fei-fei never got up before lunchtime. Calling him at this hour could only mean she needed something from him.

Li Huan felt conflicted about Sun Fei-fei. Their relationship had changed completely since that passionate kiss that night—not just the slightly ambiguous bond of senior and junior, but something between friendship and romance. He didn't know what Sun Fei-fei thought of it, but for him, it was difficult to face this seductive enchantress who always maintained a charming, alluring demeanor.

When he answered, Sun Fei-fei's voice was unusually gentle, making Li Huan wonder if it was really her calling. The caller ID clearly showed her name, and although her tone lacked the usual teasing undertones, Li Huan could still tell it was indeed her.

"Hello, Fei-fei, I haven’t done anything to wrong you, have I? No need to torment me like this!" Li Huan laughed, deliberately making a joke. Only after saying it did he feel awkward—was that forceful kiss a betrayal?

Sun Fei-fei seemed to pause before replying, her voice low, as if deliberately avoiding someone. "Li Huan, where are you? I want to see you."

Hearing her tender, alluring voice through the phone, Li Huan nearly melted, his whole body shivering. He pinched his arm to check if he was dreaming.

"Fei-fei, what’s wrong? Your voice sounds strange." Li Huan couldn't imagine how the woman who always spoke with a hint of seductive teasing, as if flirting with everyone, had suddenly turned into a refined lady. That voice made his legs go weak.

"Nothing, really. I just wanted to see you. Come have lunch with me—I want to introduce you to a friend," Sun Fei-fei finally stated her purpose, her tone carrying a hint of pleading.

Li Huan was stunned for a few seconds, still unclear, but hearing she wanted him to meet a friend, he didn't refuse. Fei-fei had helped him a lot, and from her tone, it sounded like she needed his help. He couldn't turn her down.

After getting the location, Li Huan got off at the next stop and hailed a cab. Sun Fei-fei had asked him to meet her at a Chinese restaurant downtown, reportedly opened by a descendant of an imperial chef. It was called Imperial Chef’s Residence. Li Huan had heard of it before; it was said to be quite expensive, so much so that even elite professionals could only afford to dine there two or three times a month.

Li Huan gave the address to the driver and checked the time—it was past eleven. He’d arrive just in time for lunch, and since he wouldn’t have to pay, he’d get to savor imperial cuisine for free.

The driver, a somewhat overweight middle-aged man with a strong local accent, chatted with Li Huan. From their conversation, Li Huan learned that the Imperial Chef’s Residence was indeed run by a descendant of a palace chef, renowned for exquisite dishes but outrageously expensive. Even the cheapest meal would cost over a thousand.

Li Huan could tell the driver assumed he wasn’t local, perhaps wanting to sample the imperial cuisine after hearing about it. The driver kindly warned him that such a place wasn’t for someone who only took taxis to eat at. He didn’t say this outright, but Li Huan appreciated his concern and explained that someone was treating him—he was just tagging along.

About forty minutes later, the driver stopped at the entrance of the Imperial Chef’s Residence. Li Huan paid and got out. At the door, a hostess greeted him with a smile, dressed in a classic Chinese cheongsam, her hair elegantly pinned up, giving her a refined and graceful aura. She was quite attractive, with fair skin and a gentle, appealing demeanor.

"Good morning, sir. Do you have a reservation?" The hostess smiled, dimples showing, bowing slightly. The cheongsam’s neckline was conservative, offering only a glimpse of pale skin.

Li Huan liked pretty women but wasn’t so desperate as to stare at their chests. He smiled and replied, "Yes, my friend made a reservation."

He gave the table number, and the hostess smiled again, turning to lead him through several winding corridors to a quieter area.

The Imperial Chef’s Residence was styled after the Ming and Qing dynasties, with extensive use of redwood, devoid of any modern architectural touches. Even the doors and windows were carved wood, and the corridors displayed tall, elegant porcelain vases.

The interior was simpler, divided into four areas, each separated by tall, translucent screens. Li Huan saw that the place was already packed, tables laden with exquisite, appetizing dishes, the aroma drifting even from afar, making his mouth water.

Clearly, this was no mere gimmick—the restaurant’s style and the staff’s demeanor showcased its taste and quality. Li Huan also noticed that the diners were all polite and well-mannered, rarely raising their voices.

The atmosphere was somewhat reminiscent of a Western restaurant, but in every aspect, it was an authentic Chinese establishment. The place wasn’t large, probably holding no more than a hundred guests, but the hanging ink paintings added to its unique charm.

When Li Huan reached Sun Fei-fei’s table, he saw a refined man seated across from her. The man’s crisp white shirt was spotless, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and he had an urbane, cultured look—someone who would instantly leave a good impression.