CHAPTER 156: CHAPTER 156; THAT’S MY PLACE

But when his gaze lifted again, past her, toward the silent laptop still glowing with forgotten charts, his eyes sharpened. His world had narrowed to her, and yet the danger outside, the shadows waiting to tear her from him, hadn’t disappeared.

For now, he would indulge her, soothe her, let her believe in the picture-perfect dream she craved. But deep inside, a vow burned sharper than steel: he would avenge her and hold her close tightly.

And he would protect her, whether from her past, from Shen Xiao, or from the truth itself. He actually didn’t care and no one was gonna tell him otherwise.

Jin Shuren’s gaze softened as he looked down at Yueyao’s fragile figure, her weight leaning lightly into him as though she feared she might vanish if she let go.

Without another word, he slid an arm beneath her knees and the other around her back, lifting her into his embrace with ease.

Yueyao startled, a small gasp escaping from her lips. "Shuren...?"

"Hush," he murmured, his voice low and coaxing against her ear like he always did with Yueqin, "You’re tired and still unwell... Let me hold you properly."

He crossed the room with unhurried steps, his tall frame steady as though carrying her was as natural as breathing. At the corner, the wide leather seat waited. He lowered himself onto it, settling her gently on his lap, keeping her tucked securely against his chest.

The forgotten laptop sat open on the desk, its glow casting faint light across his sharp profile.

With one hand, he shifted the device closer, his gaze briefly skimming the frozen faces of the executives waiting in silence, their voices muted since the moment he abandoned them. His arm never left Yueyao’s waist.

"Resume," he said flatly, his tone calm but carrying an authority that brooked no defiance. His free hand clicked unmute.

On the screen, the meeting stirred back to life, startled faces, polite greetings, hesitant voices testing if their leader was truly back. But Jin Shuren barely gave them a glance; his focus remained on the woman in his arms. He adjusted her lightly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, before resting his chin briefly atop her head.

Yueyao blinked up at him, her cheeks warming faintly. "You can work... like this?"

A faint curve touched his lips, rare and intimate. "I can only work like this," he answered smiling at her, "she was the reason he was who he was, without her, he didn’t think his life would have turned out like that.

In the background, Fang Lin finally stirred, her face pale as she realized the tray still sat untouched. She carefully lifted it, her steps hurried but quiet as she entered the kitchen. Behind her, two of the maids crept in, their heads bowed, moving quickly to sweep the glittering shards of glass scattered across the floor. None of them dared glance toward the leather seat where their Master sat, cradling the woman like something untouchable, sacred.

Yueyao’s fingers fidgeted nervously against his sleeve, her eyes catching on the moving figures. "Shuren... the glass, it broke because of me...."

He silenced her by pressing her hand flat against his chest, over his heartbeat. "Then let it break. I’ll replace a thousand glasses if it spares you even one tear. Don’t think about it again."

Her lips parted, her breath catching as her heart wavered between disbelief and comfort. Slowly, she let her head fall against him, the tension in her shoulders softening little by little.

Jin Shuren’s gaze returned to the meeting, his voice steady as he issued instructions and decisions with the same cold precision as always. Yet even as he dissected market reports and barked orders, his hand never once left Yueyao’s back, stroking slow, soothing circles as though reminding her, and everyone else, that she was his anchor.

The men on the other end of the call heard only their emperor’s voice. But within the house, it was a warning written in silence: nothing, not even his empire, came before the woman in his arms.

The maids hovered at the edges of the room, unsure whether to breathe too loudly, or it would completely vanish. Jin Zhou stood frozen, torn between writing down instructions and bowing in respect.

And then, soft footsteps padded down the staircase, lighter than the hurried shuffle of servants and a hush fell. A moment later, Yueqin appeared, freshly changed into a plain, floor-length home clothes.

Her hair was still damp from washing her face, a small rebellion clinging to her like dew in the morning.

She paused halfway across the living room, her gaze falling immediately on her parents. Her father sat in command upon the leather chair, the laptop glowing before him with stern-faced men awaiting his orders, and her mother curled delicately in his arms, tucked against his chest as though she were something fragile that might dissolve if let go.

For a heartbeat, Yueqin simply stood at the bottom of the stairs, small fingers curled around the wooden railing, wide eyes blinking at the sight before her.

"Daddy..." she finally whispered, her voice careful, soft, threaded with the innocence of a four-year-old who wasn’t quite sure if she was interrupting.

Her gaze flicked from Jin Shuren’s hand resting on Yueyao’s back to the way her mother leaned against him. A tiny pout formed on her lips.

"You’re... Mommy," she mumbled, the words clumsy, almost sulky, "That’s my spot. You are so grown to be sitting there mommy! Aren’t you a big girl?"

"Big girl? He is my husband and not yours, you should drink some milk and go take a nap for the time big, he is mine for now!"

Yueqin’s little chin lifted, her pout deepening as she marched closer, the hem of her soft cotton dress swishing around her ankles.

"Mommy, you’re not supposed to take Daddy’s lap," she said with a stubborn little stomp, her voice sweet but full of indignation. "That’s my place! You’re already so big, you don’t need it. We have so many chairs..."