Chapter 77: The Most Beautiful Words of Love

At the beginning of the video, Lin Zhiwei was laughing and joking with a group of young people. Once the race began, she shifted from her calm and leisurely demeanor to a bold, spirited drive, overtaking her competitors. She won by mastering the triple hairpin turns, her elbows brushing the ground at the limit, her black Honda darting through the track like a gust of midnight wind.

Ling Ziheng’s gaze grew darker and more profound. He hadn’t realized this girl could be so reckless, risking her life with such dangerous turns—it was almost as if she was gambling with her own existence. Yet seeing her radiant happiness, he couldn’t deny that this racetrack was her domain, her source of joy.

Even if it was dangerous, he was powerless to intervene. Besides, what right did he have to interfere?

The race ended and the crowd dispersed. Lin Zhiwei sat alone on the ground; the aerial camera couldn’t capture her expression, but Ling Ziheng sensed something was wrong beneath the forlorn backdrop. When Chu Chuo appeared, his heart sank to the depths.

“Sir, I just asked Nan Yu. Director Lin rushed here because she guessed Chu Chuo would send you the video early and feared you might misunderstand,” Pei Xi quickly explained. Thankfully, Nan Yu came through at the last moment. Director Lin must care a lot about the young master; otherwise, why would she hurry so?

At that moment, Nan Yu was sipping milk tea with excitement and pride. The young master was brilliant, striking when least expected. Who could have guessed Lin would fall so quickly?

Ling Ziheng’s lips pressed tightly together, his expression unwavering. Yet upon hearing she had rushed over, a wild joy surged in his heart, barely contained. On the surface, he simply said, “Let’s go.”

“Yes, the western dishes at the club are ready. I’ll have them sent up,” Pei Xi felt much relieved, glancing at his master—surely he’d be happy now, seeing how much Director Lin cared.

Ling Ziheng walked with such urgency that Pei Xi struggled to keep up, wondering just how anxious the young master truly was.

He pushed open the office door. There, the cause of all his turmoil lay comfortably on the sofa, a magazine by her side, sound asleep, her mouth turned in displeasure.

Pei Xi, sensing the atmosphere, quietly closed the door behind him and hurried away, instructing the kitchen not to deliver the food yet, lest they disturb the pair.

Ling Ziheng approached the one who occupied his every thought. Although she wore men’s clothing, the restless expression in sleep was uniquely Lin Zhiwei’s. Unable to resist, he gently pressed his lips to hers. He didn’t mind waking her in this passionate manner—after all, wasn’t she here to atone?

Lin Zhiwei’s sleep was light; the race had exhausted her, and after negotiating with Chu Chuo, her eyelids had drooped as she read. The office was empty and quiet, her own breathing the only sound, leaving no pleasure.

Then she sensed a subtle fragrance, warmth on her lips, a sting on her tongue. Dazed, she tried to resist, but Ling Ziheng’s hand held her head firmly, allowing no escape. His warm breath enveloped her, and she could just make out his flawless profile.

Before she could react, she was swept up in his domineering, focused kiss, responding awkwardly. To Lin Zhiwei, it seemed to last an entire century.

Ling Ziheng was determined: this time, he wouldn’t let her go until he had thoroughly claimed her.

She murmured softly, “It hurts,” wondering how anyone could be so punishing.

Ling Ziheng replied naturally, “So you’ll remember next time,” his eyes teasing and full of desire. He cupped her face, tempting her, “Shall we go again?”

Lin Zhiwei quickly shook her head and pushed him away, glaring fiercely. What door had fate opened for him? He was like a beast now.

The man beside her chuckled in satisfaction. His sculpted, handsome face coupled with the moist, seductive lips from the kiss made her heart itch, but her mind was in chaos. She had planned to think things through, but this wicked man was ruining her composure, threatening her reputation.

“Chu Chuo came to see you?” Ling Ziheng raised an eyebrow.

“Mm,” Lin Zhiwei replied gloomily, not eager to engage.

Ling Ziheng stroked her tousled hair affectionately. “As long as you’re alright,” he said, thinking it best to soothe her since she seemed upset.

Lin Zhiwei finally relaxed a little, lowering her gaze and falling silent.

Ling Ziheng, seeing her reluctance, gently turned her to face him, wrapping his arm around her waist. “What’s wrong? Tell me,” he prompted, suspecting she had something on her mind.

Lin Zhiwei felt she had no one else to confide in and didn’t care where his hand rested. “Do you think I’ve been too tired lately? I keep feeling… like I might have a split personality.”

Ling Ziheng’s expression became serious. He knew Lin Zhiwei wasn’t changing the subject—this must have been troubling her. “How long has it been?”

Lin Zhiwei replied, “Just this past week, it’s been obvious.”

“Any unusual symptoms?” Ling Ziheng nodded, urging her to continue.

“Not really. It’s just… after the race, when I sat on the ground, I felt… I felt I didn’t recognize myself, just for that moment,” Lin Zhiwei stared at her hands, lost.

Ling Ziheng took her hands, pressed them to his lips, and spoke softly, “Maybe you’re just exhausted. You’ve been handling everything at the studio alone. I’m sorry.”

“Maybe,” Lin Zhiwei felt reassured by his words. It was just a fleeting moment—perhaps she was overthinking it.

“Zhiwei,” Ling Ziheng called softly.

Lin Zhiwei looked up, and their eyes met. In Ling Ziheng’s gaze, she saw only herself.

“With me in your future, you’ll never be alone again.”

His gentle voice was like a spring, soothing her anxious heart. Lin Zhiwei was flustered—she was certain the deer in her heart had crashed and died.

Ling Ziheng leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Through all life’s turbulence, you are my only destination.”

Lin Zhiwei’s eyes shimmered, and she laughed quietly. “Are you… sure?” Who said Ling Ziheng’s icy face couldn’t woo a woman? She would argue with anyone who claimed otherwise. Unbeknownst to her, she had already fallen into his carefully laid trap.

Whether it was a transaction or true affection, it seemed to matter little after his words. Lin Zhiwei suddenly felt clear as a mirror within.

Through all life’s turbulence, you are my only destination. At least, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard.