The Engineer Falls for His Sweet-Scented Maid - Chapter 39: Pressed for an Answer
Nianhe instinctively hugged the shopping basket tighter and took half a step back.
People filled the street at midday. Workers just off shift rode past in twos and threes.
If she openly climbed onto the back of Huai’s bicycle, gossip would spread through the entire Municipal Party Committee Compound—even the light textile mill—before half a day was out.
“Engineer Shen, I have to get back and cook. Auntie Liu is waiting.” Her head was lowered, her voice barely a murmur.
With one foot planted on the ground, Huai reached out, took the heavy basket from her, and hung it from his handlebars.
“Get on,” he repeated, his voice deepening. “Don’t make me say it a third time.”
He always carried an air of absolute authority. Now his coldness was frightening.
Nianhe bit her lower lip. Knowing she could not prevail, she cautiously went to the back of the bicycle and sat sideways on the rear rack.
She gripped the metal bar beneath the seat with both hands and leaned away, trying not to touch his back.
Huai pushed down on a pedal. The bicycle glided smoothly forward.
The breeze stirred his white short-sleeved shirt, carrying that pleasant soapberry scent.
Behind him, Nianhe’s heart raced.
He did not ride toward the compound. Instead, he turned onto a secluded, tree-lined road.
Tall dawn redwoods grew on either side. Dense foliage broke the sunlight into small patches over the asphalt.
The farther they went, the fewer people they saw.
“Engineer Shen, this isn’t the way home.” Panic rose in her. Her fingers whitened around the metal bar.
He ignored her and rode straight behind an abandoned water tower.
Ordinarily, not a soul came here. Everything was quiet.
The brakes scraped softly. The bicycle stopped.
“Get down.”
Nianhe hurried off and retreated two steps.
Huai set the bicycle on its stand and turned to her.
“You don’t object to meeting prospective husbands?” He came straight to the point, his tone unreadable and his eyes fixed on her.
She twisted her hands together and nodded. “No.”
“Did you take a liking to Yi Lu?”
“No.” She denied it quickly. Remembering yesterday’s scene, her eyes reddened again. “His parents objected. They even threw soda all over Sister-in-law Wang. It’s over.”
The tension in Huai’s jaw eased a little.
“If it’s over, why are you still avoiding me?” He stepped closer.
Nianhe instinctively backed away until she touched the mossy outer wall of the water tower.
The rough bricks pressed painfully into her back.
“I’m not avoiding you.” She turned her face aside, afraid to look at him. “Weren’t you meeting someone at the café today? I didn’t want to interfere with your plans.”
“Who told you I was meeting someone?” He looked down at her.
“Auntie Liu, this morning. She said the woman worked in the Publicity Department. That she was educated.” Nianhe’s voice dwindled.
Huai gave a cold laugh.
“She arranged it. I didn’t agree to anything.”
He moved closer, leaving less than half an arm’s length between them.
His body heat seemed to cross that narrow space, making Nianhe hot and uncomfortable all over.
“Nianhe Su, what exactly are you afraid of?”
Cornered, she raised her head, anger in her bright eyes. “Don’t you know? You’re a technical specialist with status, the mayor’s son. I’m only a domestic helper from the countryside. You block my door in the middle of the night, and now you’ve brought me somewhere deserted. If anyone sees us, how am I supposed to go on living?”
She bristled like a hedgehog, every defense raised. Watching her, Huai felt the irritation in his chest burn hotter instead of easing.
He braced one hand against the brick beside her ear, enclosing her completely in his shadow.
“You still won’t admit what happened the night before last.” His voice dropped.
Nianhe clenched her teeth and stubbornly denied it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She wore her long-sleeved blue floral blouse today. Tension made her chest rise and fall rapidly.
That unbearable swollen ache slowly returned. Threads of cloying milk scent escaped even her tightly closed collar.
Huai caught the scent.
It was all too familiar.
Exactly the same as in his dream two nights ago. Exactly the same as when she had collided with him in the corridor last night.
His eyes lowered to the taut front of her blouse.
“There’s a very particular scent on you.” His voice roughened.
Nianhe’s head roared. Her face turned scarlet.
She raised both hands to cover her chest in panic. “There’s no scent! You’re mistaken!”
He did not retreat. He leaned closer.
His nose almost brushed her hair. His breath fell against her ear.
“I’m not. It’s sweet. Like milk.” He paused, a dangerous probing note entering his voice. “That same scent was in my room the night before last.”
Nianhe went rigid, her palms slick with cold sweat.
She knew Huai was clever, but did he have to be so painfully perceptive?
“Th-that’s Ping’an’s milk powder! I hold him every day. Of course the smell gets on me!” She stumbled over the excuse.
“Is that so?” His free hand suddenly reached out and caught her wrist.
Through the thin fabric, his fingertips felt her pulse racing.
“Ping’an’s milk powder doesn’t smell like this.” He stripped away the flimsy lie.
She struggled once and failed to break free.
His hand held her like an iron clamp.
“Engineer Shen, let go.” She was close to tears. “I really don’t know what you mean. You were drunk. You must be remembering it wrong.”
“I’m not.” His eyes were dark as deep water. “I remember someone helping me onto the bed. I remember how soft she was. And I remember…”
He deliberately stopped.
Nianhe’s face was burning crimson.
Of course she knew what he remembered. Two nights ago, he had pinned her down just like this, kissed her for so long, and bitten her hand.
“How long are you going to keep lying?” His fingers slid from her wrist into her palm.
He found the faint red mark just below the web of her right thumb.
He had bitten her there.
His rough fingertip gently rubbed the mark.
Nianhe jerked as though burned and tried to snatch her hand away, but his grip only tightened.
“Chopping ginger leaves teeth marks?” He looked down at her, his certainty allowing no argument.
Nianhe had no answer left.
She bowed her head. Tears brimmed in her eyes, then finally slipped down her cheeks.
One warm drop landed on the back of his hand.
Huai went still.
At the sight of her silent, wounded tears, his aggressive anger suddenly dissolved. In its place came an ache he could not name.
He released her hand and sighed.
“Why are you crying?” He took a clean handkerchief from his pocket and held it out.
