The next morning, Li Yueran arrived at the construction site again, her presence quiet and understated. She wore a soft cream blouse and a flowing skirt that barely brushed her heels. There was nothing commanding or intimidating about her appearance today—she looked approachable, warm, almost fragile.
From a distance, she observed Aiden lifting steel beams, his brow furrowed in concentration. A bead of sweat slipped down his temple, and instinctively, she pulled a silk handkerchief from her purse.
She waited until he lowered the beam, then carefully approached with a soft smile. "You've been working hard," she said gently, her voice melodic yet unassuming. "You should rest for a moment."
Aiden glanced at her, startled by the attention. "I… I'm fine," he mumbled, brushing the sweat from his face.
She knelt slightly, presenting the handkerchief without touching him. "Even the strongest need a break. You won't fall behind because you pause for a moment, will you?"
Her tone was soothing, the kind that calmed rather than commanded. Aiden hesitated, caught between instinctive distrust and the strange warmth radiating from her.
She continued observing quietly, never overstepping. Every motion, every breath of his became a map in her mind. Her allergy to men's touch had ruled her life, keeping her distant, but he… he was the only one who could approach her without triggering pain or panic. And now, seeing him work under the relentless sun, she felt the old maternal instinct flare—soft, protective, overwhelming.
After a pause, she spoke again, "I arranged for some refreshments and shade for the workers. Would you like me to bring them over?"
Aiden blinked, uncertain. The gentle tone, the lack of expectation or command, unsettled him more than a direct confrontation ever could. "I… guess," he said cautiously.
She smiled, small and serene, and stepped back. She didn't touch him. Not yet. But the kindness lingered, planting a tiny seed of trust.
—
By noon, Li Yueran had ensured that all of Aiden's work areas were comfortable. A small shaded area with cold water, fresh gloves, and sandwiches awaited him and the other laborers. She didn't hand anything to him directly; she let the foreman present it. Every act was indirect, yet deliberate.
From a shaded corner, she watched him pick up the sandwiches. His expression was guarded, wary, but the faintest flicker of gratitude passed through his eyes.
She allowed herself a small exhale of relief. This was enough for now. She had begun to plant herself into his life without fear, without pushing. She would remain gentle, almost invisible, until he accepted her presence willingly.
—
That evening, Meilin returned from school, noticing Li Yueran's serene yet tense expression. "You're spending a lot of time there," she said softly, concern threading her voice.
Li Yueran's gaze drifted to the city lights outside. "He needs care. Even if he doesn't realize it yet, he deserves it." Her voice was tender but firm, like water shaping stone. "And I… I want to be the one who gives it."
Meilin nodded, silently feeling the intensity beneath her mother's gentle words. There was warmth, yes, but also a strange obsession simmering just below the surface.