The President Comes Knocking - Chapter 210 - The Confession

Chu Qianqian had no idea that while she was momentarily lost in thought, Mu Han’s mind had wandered far away. By the time she finally snapped out of the daze caused by Mu Han’s sudden heartfelt confession, all she saw when she looked up was his stern, overly serious expression. It instantly gave her the kind of nerve-wracking feeling she’d have when submitting a report in front of a boss, anxiously awaiting criticism.

However, this feeling was entirely illogical. At this moment, it was Mu Han who was submitting his “report,” while the one evaluating and scoring it was Chu Qianqian herself. Clenching her palms tightly, a wave of nervousness surged through her.

To be fair, this “report” was simple and plain, without much directness in its delivery. Judging just by the words alone, there wasn’t much that stood out. But when she thought about the person who “wrote” this report-Mu Han-her heart betrayed her, pounding uncontrollably, “thump-thump,” as if it had a mind of its own. If someone hooked her up to a heart monitor right now, the resulting data would likely have a doctor questioning whether it signaled the onset of a heart condition.

Feeling the heat rise on her face again, Chu Qianqian silently cursed her overly prone-to-blushing body in her mind. Taking several deep breaths, she forced herself to picture the faces of her adoptive mother and Chu Zixi. Though it hurt, it was undoubtedly an effective way to calm her emotions.

Once the heat on her face subsided, Chu Qianqian lowered her gaze, working hard to steady her voice. She finally spoke, her lips parting gently: “I appreciate your feelings, but I’m sorry… I can’t accept them.”

From the moment she started these words to the moment she finished, Chu Qianqian kept her head bowed, refusing to look-or daring to see-the expression on Mu Han’s face.

When she heard the man’s breathing suddenly quicken on the other side, her hands, hanging stiffly at her sides, instinctively gripped the fabric of her skirt tighter. Chu Qianqian’s complexion, already pale when she finished speaking, became even paler, practically devoid of all color.

The sudden surge in Mu Han’s imposing aura frightened Chu Qianqian into retreating two steps. But to her surprise, this small movement seemed to only anger him further.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them. The closeness forced Chu Qianqian to tilt her head up, and she saw the unpleasant look on his face-his tightly pressed lips, furrowed brows, and eyes darkened to the point of almost swallowing the light. The man looked like someone in the worst of moods.

His face was pale too. In fact, if compared closely, it was almost hard to tell whose pallor was worse: his or Chu Qianqian’s.

It had been a long time since Chu Qianqian had seen this side of Mu Han. The chilling aura combined with his expressionless, emotionless face made her hands tremble from fear. She couldn’t stop herself from wanting to retreat again.

Chu Qianqian’s words had thoroughly infuriated Mu Han. His icy expression only made her take a step back, and her retreat further fueled his anger. The angrier he grew, the darker his expression became, and the darker his expression, the more terrified Chu Qianqian felt. It was a vicious cycle spiraling out of control.

One step, two steps… The corridor wasn’t particularly wide to begin with, and in just a few moments, Chu Qianqian had backed away completely.

With every step Chu Qianqian took, Mu Han’s expression worsened. Yet, perhaps because extremes can sometimes reverse outcomes, when his anger reached a peak, his expression instead cooled and returned to a calm, unreadable face-the same one he often wore at the office, distant and devoid of any emotion.

“Mu-”

Her lips parted slightly, and she had only managed to stammer out the beginning of his name when, suddenly, Mu Han strode toward her. His long legs gave him a clear advantage at moments like this; in just the blink of an eye, before Chu Qianqian could even react, he had closed the distance between them.

Pressing his right hand against the wall, Mu Han’s broad frame enveloped the space between them, creating a small, confined world that belonged to just the two of them. This space was so narrow that their breaths intertwined, both audible and palpable.

Mu Han could see every detail of her trembling eyelashes, like two butterflies flapping their wings, ready to take flight at any moment. And just like their owner, those butterflies seemed intent on rejecting him, on fleeing from him.

Meanwhile, Chu Qianqian could clearly see the paleness of the man’s face, his tightly pursed lips utterly devoid of color, and the faint trace of sorrow flickering in his eyes.

How could this be? Chu Qianqian’s thoughts wavered for a brief moment. This was Mu Han, after all-Mu Han, the man who had countless heiresses from City B and City A vying to marry him. How could someone like him possibly feel sorrow over being rejected by someone as unremarkable as herself?

But as she worked to convince herself that this was all just an act on his part, another voice rose in her mind, a voice far harder to dismiss: He has a heart, doesn’t he? No matter how tough someone’s exterior or personality may seem, their heart is always vulnerable. Even the most stone-hearted person can’t maintain complete cold indifference. And Mu Han, beyond all the dazzling aura that surrounds him, is still only human.

These two warring voices in her head battled endlessly, like two debaters fiercely arguing their points. Each side had its logic, its reasons, and as Chu Qianqian’s rationality clashed with her emotions, neither side would yield, leaving her heart swaying between the two.

Watching this inner turmoil play out across Chu Qianqian’s face, Mu Han seemed to sense the struggle within her. For a moment, the faintly frozen layers of his heart seemed to thaw. As if life had been breathed back into it, a tiny green shoot of hope began to push through the ice.

However, Chu Qianqian’s hesitation went on for far too long, and Mu Han didn’t have the patience to wait any further. His expression remained unchanged, still as deep and unfathomable as the dark sea, but he tilted his head down slightly.

Under Chu Qianqian’s shocked and anxious gaze, Mu Han’s face stopped just one centimeter away from hers, perfectly close but not touching. At such a precise angle, their reflections were visible in each other’s eyes.

“Chu Qianqian,” he said in a low, steady voice, “what exactly is your heart made of? You don’t have no feelings for me, so why do you act like you want to push me away? Sometimes, I can’t even tell whether you truly want to reject me or if you’re deliberately playing hard to get, setting a trap for me.”

The situation was undeniably tense, and yet, when Chu Qianqian heard his last two sentences, she couldn’t help but feel a faint urge to laugh. What kind of logic is that? Conceited much? Overthinking?

But before any laughter could escape her lips, Mu Han spoke again.

“Even if it is a trap, I’ve still fallen into it willingly.”

This time, his tone was even stranger than when he had first confessed to her. There was a mix of bewilderment, a touch of grievance, and-most strikingly-an unmistakable sense of resigned acceptance, as though he had already surrendered from the bottom of his heart.

Her heart felt as though it had been struck by a heavy blow. It buzzed with a numb yet tender ache, as if it had suddenly turned soft and fragile. Mu Han… He was the type of man who was inherently proud, someone who would never admit defeat easily. Yet here he was, uttering the words “I give in,” albeit in the most roundabout way.

What struck her even harder was the tone in which he said it. That low, sighing voice carried with it such vulnerability that it tugged unrelentingly at her heart. It made her feel like no comfort in the world could possibly make up for the pain he seemed to be carrying.

For a fleeting moment, emotion overtook reason. Chu Qianqian’s tense expression eased slightly, and her body relaxed for the first time since this confrontation began. Without much thought, she tilted her head to the side ever so slightly, then lightly patted Mu Han’s arm, intending it as a gesture of comfort.

To Chu Qianqian, the gesture was spontaneous and entirely subconscious, something she did without stopping to consider its meaning. But to Mu Han, it was something else altogether.

For him, it was a signal.

In an instant, his eyes lit up.