Chapter 23: Already Claimed

As the family chatted over dinner, the doorbell rang.

Lin Zhiwei quickly stopped Butler Li, telling him to continue eating and not to trouble himself. She would answer the door.

Opening it, she was met by a man in a simple suit and sunglasses. Even from several meters away, she could distinctly sense the robust, cultivated energy emanating from him. Lin Zhiwei's expression shifted; could this be an ill-intentioned visitor? She tensed, instantly alert.

But the man offered a gentle smile, produced a large blue box wrapped in silk from behind his back, and bowed his head respectfully. “Miss Lin, my name is Pei Xi. Forgive me for disturbing you. This is a gift from my young master.”

Lin Zhiwei froze in surprise. “Your young master?”

“Ling Ziheng,” the man enunciated slowly.

“Ling Ziheng?” she repeated, even more bewildered. Why would he send her a gift out of nowhere?

“Young Master Ziheng said you’ll find it useful at the arbitration meeting the day after tomorrow.” With a smile, the man handed her the gift, gave a slight bow, and turned to leave.

Lin Zhiwei stood there, utterly at a loss.

“Zhiwei, who was that?” Her parents emerged from the dining room, seeing her motionless by the door. They glanced at her, puzzled.

She returned inside and opened the large blue box. Inside was a pale blue dress, flowing and exquisitely beautiful, yet without a hint of ostentation or artifice. The fabric was superb, the ink-wash landscape pattern bold and unrestrained—just her style—while the color remained subtle and gentle.

“Zhiwei, this dress is so beautiful… Who sent it to you?” Her mother couldn’t resist stroking the smooth material as she asked.

Lin Zhiwei collected herself. “A friend. He knows all my cards were confiscated, and he was worried I wouldn’t have anything suitable to wear to the arbitration meeting.”

She supposed that when she’d mentioned her current financial straits that afternoon, Ling Ziheng had taken it to heart.

He truly was generous—and loyal.

She had actually been worrying about what to wear that day, thinking if all else failed, she’d ask Zhao Qianlu for help; with her wardrobe, there was always something suitable.

Staring at the dress, Lin Zhiwei felt a strange flutter in her heart. Ling Ziheng… truly knew how to please a woman.

It was unbelievable that such a leading man had no one in his life—not even a single girlfriend, maintaining such scrupulous self-restraint.

She picked up her phone:

Cuìhuā Sweetie: Thank you, I got the gift, I really love it!!!!!!!!

Ling Ziheng: As long as you like it.

Ling Ziheng was dining at home when her message arrived. He could almost picture Lin Zhiwei’s dazed expression upon receiving the gift. A faint smile curved his lips.

That afternoon, he’d passed by the Fancy boutique and spotted the dress in the window. He’d immediately had the driver pull over so he could admire it up close. It seemed perfect for Lin Zhiwei—elegant and ethereal, yet bold and unrestrained. The pale blue would suit her complexion beautifully.

He’d instructed Pei Xi to pick it up and deliver it that evening.

Now, seeing Cuìhuā Sweetie’s Psyduck avatar pop up, he knew Lin Zhiwei had received it.

Next to him, Liang Qisheng was pouring wine. He noticed Ling Ziheng glance at his phone, his eyes softening and his lips curling into a gentle smile, his whole demeanor subtly transformed. Liang immediately leaned over, scowling, and demanded, “Who are you chatting with? Come on, tell me—is it my little fairy?”

Ling Ziheng shifted slightly away, not wanting him so close, his face turning cold, eyes tinged with challenge. “Not yours,” he replied coolly.

Liang Qisheng slapped the table. “Come on! If she’s not mine, is she yours? Ling Ziheng, are you sneaking around behind my back? Fair competition, you know?”

Ling Ziheng lowered his head and calmly divided his steak, ignoring him entirely.

Liang Qisheng snorted in annoyance and muttered, “You sly, devious man. I knew it—you’ve got your eye on my little fairy but won’t admit it. I’ll defend her to the death, just you wait.” He stabbed at his meat as if he were carving up Ling Ziheng, not beef.

Ling Ziheng glanced at that cartoon avatar on his phone and was surprised by his own anticipation earlier, as though he’d been waiting for Lin Zhiwei to say something after receiving the gift. In over twenty years, he’d never felt this before. Even when Liang Qisheng had teased him just now, he’d reflexively retorted, “Not yours,” without a moment’s hesitation—as if it were instinct.

Liang Qisheng ate his steak while glaring at Ling Ziheng’s placid face, growing more frustrated. Then, a new thought occurred to him: Given Ling Ziheng’s perennial ice-cold demeanor and workaholic ways, he’d never seen him take interest in any woman. Maybe all this was just part of his grand plan to win Lin Zhiwei over.

He forced a smile. “Ziheng, listen, as a winner in life, you really don’t need to butt in. Once I win over my little fairy and reach the pinnacle of life, as your brother, I’ll give you anything you want.”

Ling Ziheng paused, setting down his knife and fork. His gaze turned icy, features sculpted and severe. He looked at Liang Qisheng and said quietly, “She’s already spoken for.”

With a bang, Liang Qisheng’s mind went blank.

What did he just say?

Was this grim-faced King of Hell really Ling Ziheng? The one who was always aloof, untouched by worldly matters, uninterested in beauty, obsessed only with work?

He began to stammer, pointing at the utterly composed man before him. “You—you—you… What do you mean? Make yourself clear!”

“You’ll find out in a few days,” Ling Ziheng replied, wiping his mouth. A rare, arrogant smile played about his lips, his striking, handsome features radiating the confidence of a conqueror. With that, he turned and left.

Leaving Liang Qisheng speechless behind him.