Chapter 281: Returning to the Hill

Runze’s POV

The double doors of the main Wuchen mansion open to the familiar scent of fresh jasmine and clean air.

We step into the grand hallway just as Sunday evening settles over the estate. Mrs. Wen is already walking down the front steps toward us, her smile bright and welcoming.

"Welcome home, Master Bael, Young Master Runze," she greets us, her gaze softening as she steps closer to gently take Siying’s portable carrier from my hands. "How was the mountain air? She didn’t fuss on the drive?"

"She slept almost the entire way down," I reply, unfastening the carrier strap and stretching my arms while Bael hands Liang Feng the bags to take upstairs. "She only woke up when we reached the outer gates."

"Good, good. I’ll take her upstairs to her nursery so she can rest properly," Mrs. Wen says, her eyes lingering on Siying’s peaceful face before she carefully turns back up the stairs.

Grandmother is sitting in her usual armchair in the main sitting room, a tea cup resting on the side table beside her folded newspaper. She looks up as Bael and I walk in together.

"Grandmother," I say, stepping forward to greet her with a respectful smile, Bael bowing his head beside me in greeting as well.

"You two are back," Grandmother says, setting her cup down. Her eyes trail over Bael’s navy linen shirt and trousers, a rare gleam of satisfaction touching her expression. "Look at you, Bael. It’s refreshing to see you dressed for a weekend instead of a board meeting."

Bael lets out a quiet huff, walking over to sit on the adjacent sofa. "Runze handled everything."

"And he did a fine job," Grandmother hums, looking over at me. "Come sit, Runze. Show me what you did up there."

I sit down beside her on the sofa, unlocking my phone and pulling up the gallery of photos Liang Feng took along the bamboo path. I hand the screen over to her.

Grandmother scrolls through the shots one by one. She pauses on the photo where Bael has his arm wrapped around my waist under the tall bamboo canopy, his face completely relaxed as he looks down at Siying.

"Liang Feng has a surprisingly good eye," Grandmother remarks, a soft, satisfied smile touching her lips as she taps the screen. "It’s good to see you looking at ease for once, Bael, instead of carrying the weight of the family name on your shoulders all the time. Siying seems to bring out a gentler side in you."

"I was just off duty," Bael says simply, though a subtle shift in his expression betrays his comfort, leaning his back against the cushions.

"Keep it that way more often," Grandmother replies, her tone light as she hands the phone back to me. "A calm home makes for a clear mind. I’m glad you had a smooth trip."

***

By Tuesday morning, the quiet of the mountain weekend is completely behind us, replaced by the crisp, efficient momentum of work.

Bael didn’t waste a single hour. The morning after we returned, he pulled me into his study, looking at the small glass model sitting on his desk, and told me plainly that he wanted the real structure built on the hill behind the estate before the seasonal weather turned.

I called Meng Tai first thing Tuesday, handing him the structural parameters and instructing him to contract our most trusted crew—the same team handling the final stages of the community gallery renovation in the city.

By Thursday afternoon, the gallery renovation is nearly complete, with only the interior lighting fixtures and display partitions left to install.

Meanwhile, the hill behind the main estate is already buzzing with activity.

I stand out on the back courtyard terrace in a light linen shirt, holding a clipboard with the gallery’s final inspection checklist in one hand while looking up at the crest of the hill. Surveyors have already marked the perimeter with bright red stakes, and a small crew is leveling the soil where the glass foundation will rest.

Footsteps sound on the stone tiles behind me. Bael walks out from the side corridor, his dark sleeves rolled up to his elbows, holding two glasses of chilled fruit juice. He hands one to me, stepping up to the stone railing to look in the same direction.

"The crew is finishing site prep today," I tell him, taking a sip from the glass. "They’re pouring the foundation tomorrow morning, and at this rate, the glass frame will be up within three weeks."

Bael gazes up at the hillside, his expression calm and grounded. "Good. You move fast when you want to."

"You were the one who asked for it to be built immediately," I remind him with a dry smile, turning my head to look at him. "Besides, I want it finished before the gallery opens. I don’t want to be running back and forth between two construction sites once the exhibitions start. The gallery team is already prepping the press releases for opening week."

"Then we’ll make sure the hill project stays entirely on schedule," Bael says, setting his glass on the ledge.

He turns to face me, his eyes fixed on mine with that familiar, steady focus. He reaches out, his thumb lightly brushing a speck of dust off my jawline before his hand settles at the nape of my neck, pulling me just an inch closer.

"How is the gallery coming along?" he asks softly.

"It’s going well, the final walkthrough is next week," I answer, leaning into his touch slightly. "Everything is on schedule."

Bael nods, his grip on my neck tightening just enough to convey his quiet approval. "Good. Tell me if you need anything cleared on my end so you can focus on the walkthrough."

"Everything is under control," I say, a small smile touching my lips as I set my own glass down and cover his hand with mine.

Up on the hill, the low, steady hum of a mini-excavator fills the background as the crew levels the ridge, laying the groundwork for the project that started as a small, handcrafted gift just a few days ago.