Contract Marriage: The President's Stand-in Lover - Chapter 14:

The First Touch of Warmth

After they returned from Qingyuan City, something subtle yet undeniable

began to change between Vivian and Gu Chen.

That hard, cold shell called the contract which had encased their

relationship from the start seemed to have been softened, cracked by that mountain rain.

Gu Chen was still as busy as ever, but the air of icy distance that

had once surrounded him began to fade. He no longer treated her presence as invisible.

Sometimes over breakfast, he would ask for her opinion on an economic headline.

In the evenings, if he came home early, he didn’t always disappear into his study.

Occasionally, he would sit in the living room working quietly,

letting a calm and comfortable silence flow between them.

One evening, Vivian came home from the Foundation carrying a thick stack of documents about

rural heritage projects. She was ready to continue her research upstairs,

but as she passed the living room, she noticed something unusual.

Gu Chen wasn’t working. He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window,

gazing out at the courtyard, his expression distant, thoughtful.

When he heard her footsteps, he turned slightly. His eyes fell on the heavy pile in her arms,

and his brows drew together almost imperceptibly.

Why didn’t you ask your assistant to help with that? His voice was calm,

almost casual, but softer than usual.

Vivian blinked, caught off guard that he was talking to her.

Ohh it’s fine, she said quickly. It’s not that heavy. I wanted to organize some of it tonight anyway.

It’s about the initial plan for the Qingyuan heritage project

Before she could finish, Gu Chen walked over and took the stack from her arms.

The movement was smooth, unhurried, completely natural.

His fingers brushed lightly against the back of her hand,

and a spark of warmth shot through her skin.

I’ll take it, he said. Going to the study?

Vivian nodded, momentarily dazed as she watched him carry the weight as if it were nothing.

Was he… helping her?

She followed him upstairs. It was the first time she had entered his study not by accident,

not by mistake, but because he had allowed her in.

Gu Chen placed the documents neatly on his desk,

beside the crystal paperweight she remembered from before.

Then he turned toward her, his gaze resting briefly on her tired face.

Any initial plans for the project?

The question sounded professional, even detached, yet there was genuine interest beneath it.

She stepped closer, opened her notebook, and began to explain in her steady, clear voice.

I think we can start from three directions.

First, we could help the village set up a small heritage exhibition

and experience center so visitors can see the bamboo weaving

and handwoven cloth up close. Second, through the Foundation,

we can help them find stable sales channels,

maybe partner with cultural brands or set up an online shop.

And third most importantly we should focus on passing the craft to the next generation.

We could start a Rural Artisan Training Program, offering apprenticeships, stipends, and startup support to encourage young people to learn these skills.

As she spoke, her eyes brightened with quiet passion.

She was no longer thinking about how to impress him she was

simply sharing something she believed in.

Gu Chen listened, watching her face illuminated by her own enthusiasm.

In that moment, she was no longer just his contractual wife.

She was intelligent, capable, and full of life. A partner.

Of course, it’s still a rough concept, she added, glancing up shyly.

We’d need to prepare a detailed budget and feasibility plan

But when she looked at him, she was caught by the expression in his eyes.

There was no impatience, no judgment only calm, intent attention.

Your thinking is clear, he said simply. Then he turned to his bookshelf,

pulled out several folders and books and handed them to her.

These are past cases from our company’s cultural preservation projects,

along with policy references. You might find them useful.

Vivian accepted them carefully. The folders were heavy, yet her heart felt lighter.

He wasn’t just listening he was helping, quietly, sincerely.

Thank you, Gu Chen.

Her tone was natural this time, without the guarded distance of before.

Gu Chen’s eyes flickered for a moment. He gave a soft hum in response and turned away,

his throat moving as if he were swallowing back words.

Then, as though remembering something, he opened a drawer and

took out a long rectangular box wrapped in elegant paper.

This is for you, he said.

Puzzled, Vivian took it, the weight solid in her hands. What is it?

Open it.

She peeled back the wrapping and froze. Inside was a complete set of professional art tools

premium pencils of varying hardness, charcoal, paintbrushes, watercolor pans,

and a smooth sketchbook. Every item was of the finest quality,

the kind she used to dream of owning but had long given up on.

Her breath caught. How did you…

She had never told him. He couldn’t have known that she used to love drawing,

that art had once been her refuge before her father’s company collapsed and her life changed.

Gu Chen turned slightly, avoiding her gaze as he poured himself a

glass of water from the bar cabinet. Last time in Qingyuan,

you seemed interested in those traditional patterns, he said evenly.

Drawing them might be more effective than photos.

It could help with your Foundation reports.

The excuse was flawless practical, logical but Vivian knew better.

He had noticed her curiosity. He had noticed her.

Emotion rose in her chest, sudden and sharp.

Her throat tightened as she clutched the box closer to her heart.

Thank you, she whispered, voice trembling. I really love it.

Gu Chen turned to look at her. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears,

and her expression so open, so unguarded made something deep inside him stir.

His grip on the glass tightened just slightly.

I’m glad you like it, he said quietly.

Warm light filled the study, wrapping the silence in something tender.

There was no drama, no declarations, only a gentle,

unspoken current between them care that needed no explanation.

When Vivian returned to her room, she sat for a long time with the art set resting on her lap.

Her fingers traced the smooth cover of the sketchbook, lingered over the neat row of pencils.

A spark long extinguished began to glow again soft, steady, alive.

She realized that Gu Chen’s warmth was not loud or obvious.

It was quiet, restrained, but it struck straight to the heart.

That kind of warmth was dangerous. It could melt the defenses she had built so carefully.

And yet, she could not bring herself to resist it.

That night, she opened the sketchbook and began to draw the misty outlines of the Qingyuan

mountains after the rain, the smile of the old woman at the loom, and finally,

the man in the study, handing her the box beneath the soft glow of the lamp,

his eyes calm but impossibly deep.

Some things, once awakened, can never be undone.