CEO's Stand In Lover

In the Garden of Icy Feelings

Du Zixiu paid no heed to the surrounding chatter; instead, he was startled by how mesmerized he was as he gazed at Lucy. He felt as if he were under a spell, unable to free himself from her captivating presence.

Could it be—I’ve fallen for this “Ice Queen”? he wondered, his heart pounding in surprise.

Then, a warm smile slowly spread across his face. His dark green eyes shone as softly and beautifully as pure dewdrops, and that smile, fleeting yet breathtaking, rivaled the rare beauty of an ephemeral bloom.

In the college’s rear garden, a fountain bubbled in the mild afternoon. The weather was gently warm, though the air carried a subtle chill, and the space was perfumed with bursts of floral fragrance. Under the dazzling sunlight, the fountain sent up sprays of golden droplets. All around on the lawn, couples and students strolled.

At one side of the garden stood a tall, dense banyan tree. Its round, green leaves fluttered in the breeze, occasionally settling on the damp bluestone pavement below. One solitary leaf drifted slowly onto the lush, emerald grass.

Lucy stood by the fountain, her brows slightly furrowed. At the garden’s center, water cascaded from an angel statue, with shimmering droplets dancing in the light—a sight that usually kept people at bay for fear of getting wet. Yet the cool spray touched her cheeks, forming delicate, crystalline beads.

"So chilling, right to the bone!" she thought.

That biting cold felt almost healing, as if it were slowly mending the deep, painful scars of years past—the raw, indelible wounds etched within her heart.

Step by step, Lucy moved closer to where the spray could reach her. Each clear, icy droplet landed on her face until, suddenly, a warm, large hand grasped her own.

“Lucy, what are you doing?” came a gentle, concerned voice.

Lucy paused and turned. Reflected in the clear eyes of the hand that held hers was Du Zixiu’s worried face—his dark green eyes shining brightly with concern. She could sense a note of reproach in his tone, reminiscent of the way Kevin sometimes spoke.

“This is my own business—it has nothing to do with you, Young Master Du!” she snapped, a flash of irritation crossing her features. For some reason, she instinctively hated that tone coming from him.

Yet she couldn’t help but wonder: why is it that when Kevin uses that same tone, instead of anger, she feels a trace of sweetness and happiness?

Is it because different people evoke different feelings? And if so, what exactly are her feelings for Kevin?

Lucy furrowed her brows lightly, her jet-black, agate-like eyes reflecting deep concentration as if lost in thought. Seizing the moment while she was distracted, Du Zixiu reached out to pull her away. However, he immediately noticed that her hand was unusually cold—surely because it had been soaking in the fountain’s water.

“Let go!” he insisted.

Snapping back to awareness, Lucy saw the slight displeasure on his face as he tugged at her hand and said, “I told you to let go of my hand—didn’t you hear me?”

“Could you please stop being so stubborn? Don’t reject others’ goodwill; I mean you no harm!” he pleaded.

For a moment, Lucy’s clear, luminous eyes dimmed, her long lashes drooping as her voice turned stiff, “I’ll say it one last time—let go of me!”

Her tone carried a hint of disdain. It wasn’t that she truly loathed him; it was that she despised the arrogant airs of the wealthy.

“Lucy, you shouldn’t always be so distant. Perhaps others genuinely mean well to you!” Du Zixiu argued, his dark green eyes now flashing with a trace of anger.

He couldn’t understand why she was always so guarded as if no one was ever worthy of her trust.

Lucy’s eyes narrowed disdainfully as she shot back, “For my good? Don’t give me that pretense—you're only using it as an excuse to get close to me, Young Master Du! I’m not interested in you at all. So please, don’t bother me again, and stop acting like some self-appointed savior. It’s downright repulsive!”

With that, Lucy brushed past him. As her hand briefly touched his, she noticed with a shiver that his hand was so ice-cold it seemed to freeze her from within.

“How can it be so cold?” she wondered, questioning whether it was from being near the fountain too long.

“Your hand is freezing! Let me take you to the infirmary—you’ll get sick if you keep this up,” Du Zixiu said, concern edging his voice as he took her hand once more. The chill seeped from her hand into his palm and then into his heart, making him shudder.

“Come on, let’s go to the infirmary!”

“Why are you always so kind to me?” she murmured, almost to herself. “If you were a bit harsher, I might even appreciate it, for then I wouldn’t feel so guilty.”

Her voice trembled with fragile emotion, her long lashes falling as if to hide the vulnerability in her eyes—a vulnerability as delicate as ice.

The brilliant sunlight bathed them in a crystalline glow as Du Zixiu led her away. Lucy’s gaze drifted into the distance as she walked quietly behind him, her expression as quiet as that of a child lost in thought. Her large, clear eyes—cool and pristine like the starlit sky—softened into a serene, wistful smile.

“Du Zixiu, you’ll surely regret being so kind to me; you’ll end up hurting yourself!” she whispered, almost in warning.

Du Zixiu stopped abruptly, startled, and gazed at her. His dark green eyes shone like emeralds in the sunlight as he asked, “Why?”

“Because I am not the person you expect me to be!” Lucy replied sharply.