Contract Marriage: The President's Stand-in Lover - Chapter 13:

An Unexpected Journey

After the storm of the family banquet had passed, the relationship

between Vivian and Gu Chen settled into a quiet, delicate balance.

There were no more heated arguments, but no deliberate closeness either.

They were like two parallel lines, slowly, cautiously, bending toward

each other under an invisible pull.

One evening, over dinner, Gu Chen spoke without preamble.

Two days from now, I’ll be flying south to Qingyuan City to inspect an eco-agriculture project.

Vivian paused, spoon halfway to her lips, and murmured a faint acknowledgment.

She assumed he was simply informing her of another business trip routine, nothing more.

But his next words made her look up, startled.

There’s a traditional village near the project site. I heard they’ve preserved

a lot of cultural heritage there old bamboo weaving and hand-loomed cloth,

very distinctive craftsmanship. Since the foundation has been planning a

rural heritage support initiative, you might want to come along.

It could give you some inspiration.

For a moment, Vivian wondered if she’d misheard. Was he… inviting her to go with him?

And using the foundation as an excuse?

Reason told her he was just finding a proper pretext to bring her without arousing questions.

But another, quieter voice in her heart whispered he remembered the foundation’s plans.

He didn’t have to.

She glanced at him. Gu Chen was eating with his usual poise, expression unreadable,

as if his invitation had been no more than a passing comment.

Alright, she replied softly, keeping her tone as even as she could.

I’m actually interested in that project. It’ll be a good opportunity to

gather firsthand information.

He gave a small nod and said nothing more.

The day they departed, the sky hung heavy with clouds.

Vivian packed lightly and joined Gu Chen in his sleek black car bound for the airport.

For the first time, they were traveling together neither for appearances nor obligation,

but something quietly different.

On the plane, Gu Chen buried himself in work, his laptop screen reflecting the faint light from the

window. Vivian read over reports about Qingyuan’s ecological projects.

They exchanged few words, yet the silence between them no longer felt strained.

When they arrived, the local project manager greeted them warmly.

The site inspection went smoothly; Gu Chen displayed his usual sharp insight and calm authority.

Vivian followed quietly, watching the subtle shift in his demeanor when

he spoke to the local farmers less distant, more grounded.

Afterward, just as he’d promised, he asked the driver to take a

detour to the nearby village nestled between the hills and the river.

The place was timeless cobbled lanes of gray stone, whitewashed walls, dark-tiled roofs,

the air fragrant with wet earth and bamboo.

They visited elderly artisans still practicing the old crafts.

Vivian knelt beside a grandmother at her loom, her tone gentle as

she stumbled through the local dialect, asking about the meanings behind each woven pattern.

The old woman smiled and answered patiently, her hands moving deftly

through threads that shimmered like soft rivers of color.

From a short distance, Gu Chen watched her. Sunlight streamed through the wooden lattice,

falling across her face the curve of her cheek, the light in her eyes.

She looked alive in a way he hadn’t seen before, glowing with quiet joy.

In that moment, Gu Chen realized the woman beside him,

though she shared a faint resemblance to someone from his past,

possessed an entirely different spirit stronger, steadier,

and somehow capable of stirring something tender deep within him.

The village chief glanced at the sky and called out a warning. Looks like it’s going to rain.

Moments later, the clouds broke. Heavy drops fell fast, turning the world into a silver curtain.

The driver hurried to bring the car around. Gu Chen took the umbrella from his assistant,

snapping it open. Without thinking, he tilted most of it toward Vivian,

letting his own shoulder take the rain.

Get in, he said quietly.

There was a short stretch between the umbrella and the car door.

Vivian hesitated, but Gu Chen had already reached out,

his hand firm yet gentle as he drew her under the shelter of the umbrella.

His arm brushed her shoulder, guiding her forward.

The gesture was instinctive, protective and strangely intimate.

She could feel the heat of his palm even through the fabric,

smell the faint cedar scent of his cologne mingled with rain and earth.

Her heartbeat stumbled.

By the time they got into the car, both were slightly damp.

Water darkened the fabric on Gu Chen’s shoulder.

Your jacket… she began softly, guilt flickering in her tone.

He glanced at it, unconcerned, and straightened his cuff. It’s nothing.

Outside, the rain poured harder, streaking the windows in liquid silver.

Looks like we’ll be here for a while, he said, voice low, unreadable.

The small space filled with the quiet rhythm of rain. Vivian gazed out at the misty mountains,

their outlines softened by the downpour. Even through the blur, the scenery felt calm, resilient.

It’s beautiful here, she murmured. Even the rain feels peaceful somehow.

Gu Chen followed her gaze. For a long time, he said nothing. When he finally spoke,

his voice was softer than she’d ever heard it.

My mother loved places like this. She used to say cities make people forget who they are,

but the soil and the trees they remind you to stay human.

Vivian turned to him in surprise. It was the first time he had ever mentioned his family.

His expression was distant, touched by something like wistfulness.

She remained silent, afraid to break the fragile thread of honesty between them.

She studied art, he continued after a pause. If she hadn’t married my father,

she might have been a good painter.

The words carried quiet regret, a tenderness that surprised her.

Vivian’s heart softened. The cold, commanding CEO everyone saw

beneath that mask was a man capable of loss, memory, and gentleness.

Perhaps his fascination with art, his willingness to support her foundation’s heritage project,

was a tribute to his mother’s unfinished dreams.

She said softly, She must have been remarkable. To love something deeply and never give up on it

that kind of passion has its own power.

Gu Chen turned toward her, his dark eyes studying her face.

What he saw there wasn’t flattery, but genuine understanding.

For a few heartbeats, their eyes met, the sound of rain filling the silence between them.

Something unspoken passed through the air subtle, fragile, and real.

He murmured a quiet acknowledgment, and the tension that

had lingered between them slowly dissolved.

The rain eased, then stopped. The sky cleared, a soft blue breaking through the clouds.

The driver started the car again, the road ahead glistening.

On the way back, they said little. Vivian watched the refreshed landscape slide past,

feeling as though something inside her had been gently washed clean too.

This trip had changed her understanding of Gu Chen.

He wasn’t just the cold man bound to her by a contract,

nor the one who still carried a ghost in his heart. He was someone capable of remembering,

of feeling, of quiet warmth.

Her defenses loosened just a little.

And Gu Chen, eyes closed as though resting, found his thoughts returning again and

again to the image of her crouched beside the loom, light catching in her eyes

when she spoke of the power of passion.

He realized he was beginning to notice all the ways she differed

from the woman he once couldn’t forget. And, to his quiet surprise, he didn’t mind.

Their marriage, born from a contract, seemed after this unexpected journey to

have begun drifting softly, inevitably toward uncharted waters.