Hailey didn't get angry. In fact, she smiled.
"Oh? So that means I have the right to meddle in your life too?"
Ethan's lips curled into a devilish smirk. "What part of my life haven't you already meddled in?"
"…"
She had no response—because he wasn't wrong.
Back then, she was practically glued to his life. Always watching, always controlling, always trying to have a say in everything. She was a full-time micromanager of one Ethan Yu.
And that wasn't right.
"I won't interfere anymore," Hailey said calmly. "And you shouldn't get involved in mine either."
"That's something you should've said the day we got married."
Hailey's patience wore thin. "Fine. I made mistakes. But I'm fixing them now, aren't I? Or do you want me to keep meddling in your business?"
By the end, her voice had a sharp, mocking edge.
Ethan's eyes darkened. He didn't answer.
Silence stretched between them like a taut rope, neither willing to pull first. The tension held all the way home.
When they stepped through the front door, the air shifted.
Mrs. Zhang came rushing out with a wide smile. "Miss Hailey! You're finally back! Did the Old Master return with you? Is he okay?"
Hailey's cold expression immediately softened. "He's fine. We both came back safely."
"Oh, thank goodness. I was worried sick." Mrs. Zhang took the suitcase from her hands and gave her a concerned once-over. "You've lost weight. What would you like to eat tonight? I'll make it for you."
"Anything's fine. Whatever you feel like cooking."
"Alright then, I'll go start prepping. Let me take this upstairs for you first." She tugged the suitcase along, but paused when she spotted a small paper bag tucked into the side. "Miss Hailey, what's this one?"
Hailey took it from her before she could open it. "Just something small. Go ahead and put the rest away, thanks."
Mrs. Zhang nodded and headed upstairs.
Once she was out of sight, Hailey turned to Ethan and pulled out the contents of the bag.
Design sketches.
She held them out to him. "Here. I drew these. Tell me if you think they're good enough to win anything."
Ethan looked at her, surprised, and took the folder. He opened it and flipped through the drawings.
His eyes narrowed.
He looked again, slower this time.
There was a flicker of something in his gaze—was that… surprise?
"These aren't the same as the ones I saw last time in the study."
"I scrapped those," Hailey replied. "Too cold, too mechanical. I didn't like them."
"You designed these yourself?"
Hailey wasn't about to admit that the first draft had been loosely based on one of his old sketches, or that the second was a modified version using his ideas as a foundation.
"Yeah. All mine."
"But you've never studied architecture. How did you manage this?"
Hailey laughed. "You think it's rocket science? I've been surrounded by your designs since forever. I might not have the degree, but I know how to look. Haven't eaten pork, but I've seen the pig run, you know?"
Ethan actually chuckled. A real, amused laugh.
Not because he didn't believe her—but because she had somehow pulled it off.
He'd worked with top-tier designers, seen thousands of architectural plans from competitions, firms, even prodigies.
But this?
This was fresh. Unique. Clever.
Two complete concepts, both wildly different from anything he'd seen from his own team.
He flipped back to the first sketch.
Then the second.
Again.
His designers had worked for years, and this—this came from someone who'd never even taken a class?
It was both unbelievable and infuriating.
He muttered, almost to himself, "Maybe all my designers really are idiots…"
No.
That wasn't it.
Hailey simply saw things differently. She had a fresh perspective, unhindered by technical formulas or industry norms. There was instinct in her drawings. Something alive.
She was, in her own chaotic way, a natural.
He looked up at her, expression unreadable. "If you ever studied architecture properly, you might actually put my entire design team out of a job."
A beat passed.
"Maybe even me."
Hailey blinked.
Wait—what did he just say?
Was that… a compliment?
From Ethan Yu?
She stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or question if he was feeling okay.
Ethan returned his gaze to the sketches, and this time, there was something different in the way he looked at them. A little more respect. A little less arrogance.
"You've got talent," he said, almost reluctantly. "If you submit these, they'll get attention."
He paused.
"And probably mine too."
Hailey blinked again.
Now that… that she hadn't expected.
But she didn't say anything.
She just turned away and headed up the stairs, sketches tucked under his arm and her heartbeat oddly steady.
For once, she didn't need him to say more.
He'd looked at her work like it meant something.
And for now, that was enough.