Landlord in the Arctic

"Can I go in now?"

"Welcome home." The bearded bodyguard grinned, forcing a smile so awful it was worse than tears, and stepped aside to clear the path.

Feng Mountain curled his lip. He wasn’t buying this so-called "welcome" in the slightest and was thoroughly annoyed.

He hurried along the garden path toward the cabin door.

Just as he was about to push the door open, he suddenly remembered something important. He turned back with a mischievous grin and offered a deliberate reminder.

"Oh, right. I also keep a pack of tigers here. If they come home, remember to frisk them."

With that, Feng Mountain pushed open the door and walked inside.

In the living room, Natasha had already changed into comfortable yet stylish loungewear. Like an elegant, idle Persian cat, she was lounging on the soft sofa.

Her slender fingers gently held the corner of a book, her gaze focused. She was completely immersed in her reading, as if nothing else around her existed.

Feng Mountain, however, found his gaze uncontrollably drawn to Natasha—or more accurately, to the subtle arch of her body as she lounged.

He had to admit, her smooth and graceful curves were like a masterfully sculpted piece of art, exuding an irresistible charm. Even a casual glance was breathtaking.

"Enjoying the view?" It was as if Natasha had eyes in the back of her head; she was keenly aware of Feng Mountain’s stare. She kept her eyes on her book, but the slight upturn of her lips betrayed her thoughts. Her softly spoken words dripped with provocation.

’Heh! Who does she think she’s scaring?’

’Fine. Two can play at that game.’

’Since she’s being so blunt, why should I hold back? I might as well lean into it and see what she does.’

Feng Mountain cursed inwardly, his rebellious streak instantly ignited.

An idea flashed through his mind. Deciding to meet her challenge head-on, he gave a roguish grin and retorted smoothly,

"Decent enough. I wonder how it feels, though."

"I’ll give you a chance to find out."

As if she’d expected his response, Natasha lazily lifted her head. Her beautiful eyes, as blue as a deep lake, now held a trace of encouragement, as if extending a tempting invitation to him.

For a moment, the atmosphere in the living room became charged.

’You win!’

Feng Mountain felt like a defeated rooster. With a look of utter frustration, he turned and stalked toward the kitchen.

His retreating back seemed to radiate resentment.

"How do you like your steak? I only know how to cook it well-done," Feng Mountain yelled out toward the living room as soon as he entered the kitchen.

"I don’t mind." Natasha, still on the sofa, replied. The corners of her mouth curved up into a faintly smug smile, like a cunning cat that had just successfully toyed with its prey.

She gave her head a little shake, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, picked up the book again, and resumed reading as if nothing had happened.

’Eat, eat, eat. I’ll give you steak, all right.’

’Taking over my house, treating me like a servant.’

In the kitchen, Feng Mountain muttered curses under his breath as he deliberately snatched up a cleaver and brought it down on the cutting board with a series of furious, clattering chops.

He was venting his frustration.

The commotion was so loud that it drew the attention of the bodyguards outside. Thinking something was wrong, they rushed over to investigate.

They saw Feng Mountain absolutely butchering a piece of beef, attacking it as if it had stolen his wife.

The bodyguards glanced at each other and shook their heads slightly. Once they confirmed nothing was amiss, they quietly backed away, leaving Feng Mountain to let off steam in the kitchen alone.

「Half an hour later.」

The cooking fumes in the kitchen gradually dissipated, leaving only the tantalizing aroma of meat hanging in the air.

Wearing an apron, Feng Mountain emerged from the kitchen, his face slightly flushed from the heat of the stove. With a voice tinged with impatience, he shouted irritably toward the living room.

"Dinner’s ready. Come and get it."

He might not have any warm feelings for Natasha—the woman who’d shown up uninvited and high-handedly taken over his house—but when it came to cooking, he still had his principles. He hadn’t tampered with the food.

On the contrary, Feng Mountain had chosen the best cut of Angus beef, from a cow slaughtered on his own ranch.

It was the most tender cut from the loin, with clear marbling, an alluring color, and practically no fat—the perfect choice for a filet mignon.

Of course, Feng Mountain hadn’t cooked it well-done. Instead, he had seared it to a perfect medium.

This level of doneness was perfect, ensuring the beef was tender and juicy. The meat was at its most delicate; one bite and the juices would explode in your mouth, creating a sublime texture.

Natasha strode elegantly to the dining table, her posture so poised it was as if she were walking a fashion show runway.

She then stood quietly beside her chair, in no rush to sit. She merely lifted her gaze to Feng Mountain, her eyes silently conveying a certain expectation.

Feng Mountain immediately got the hint. ’So spoiled,’ he grumbled inwardly, though his expression remained impassive.

Though deeply reluctant, he still walked over quickly, reached out, and gently pulled out the chair, doing his best to act like a gentleman, despite how awkward he felt.

"Now you’re acting like a gentleman." Natasha’s lips curved upward, blossoming into a bright, complimentary smile. Her smile was like the warm spring sun, instantly lighting up the room.

Only then did she sit down, unhurried and graceful, her posture exuding an aristocratic elegance.

’You’re the gentleman.’

’Your whole damn family are gentlemen.’

Feng Mountain fumed inwardly, running through every comeback he could think of.

Suddenly remembering the few bottles of red wine left over from dinner two days ago, an idea struck him, and he turned back toward the kitchen.

He found a bottle of red wine and a wine glass in the cupboard, placing them both in front of Natasha.

"Sorry, no time to let it breathe. You’ll have to make do."

He said "sorry," but his tone held no actual apology. It was as if he were stressing that this was the most courtesy she was going to get.

Natasha’s eyes swept over the wine bottle. A brief glance was all it took for her to nod with a satisfied expression. She spoke slowly,

"I’m surprised you know your wines. A 2008 from Henschke Vineyard. The Divine Grace Mountain wines from that year were quite decent. You’ve gone up a point in my book."

The moment the words left her mouth, she elegantly pushed the wine glass toward Feng Mountain.

’She’s really treating me like her damn servant!’

Feng Mountain’s eyes narrowed. He fought back the urge to lash out, Frank’s warning flashing through his mind.

’Half the land in the Crown Territory is Natasha’s dowry.’

The silent warning was like a bucket of cold water, instantly dousing the flames of Feng Mountain’s temper. He silently picked up the wine bottle. Resentful but resigned, he began to pour.

However, as someone who grew up in China, Feng Mountain had his own ideas about hospitality.

According to custom back home, when you’re hosting a guest, you fill their glass to the brim. Anything less is considered insincere.

The red wine glass was quite large; a 750ml bottle was just enough to fill it to the top.

He poured slowly until the red wine reached the very brim, the liquid shimmering precariously.

"Enjoy!"

A barely perceptible glint of amusement flickered in Feng Mountain’s eyes as he carefully slid the brimming wine glass in front of Natasha.

Natasha looked at the wine, which was practically overflowing the rim of the glass. She rolled her beautiful, sapphire-blue eyes, as if mocking Feng Mountain’s childishness.

"Childish."

Then, Natasha picked up her knife and fork, her movements as unhurried and elegant as if she were performing a solemn ritual.

She lightly set her knife on the steak and slowly sliced off a piece. Pink juices immediately welled up along the blade, revealing the enticingly rosy meat beneath. Its tenderness practically broadcasted its high quality.

Natasha elegantly speared the piece of beef, brought it to her lips, and chewed thoughtfully.

At first, her expression was still a little haughty. But after a few seconds, her eyes suddenly lit up. A flash of surprise crossed her features, as if she were stunned by the exceptionally tender beef.

"This beef..." Natasha couldn’t help but murmur, a note of astonishment in her voice.

Now it was Feng Mountain’s turn to look smug. He lifted his chin slightly, his face a mask of pride, his eyes radiating absolute confidence in his beef.

"Amazing, right? And I’m not just bragging—you won’t find beef this good anywhere in the United States. You should count yourself lucky you get to eat it!"

Natasha didn’t stop cutting her steak, her movements still unhurried. She just said nonchalantly,

"It’s excellent. From now on, send one cow to Lengwan every month. I’ll arrange for a plane to transport it."

...