Chapter 22: Hooked

The storage room wasn’t large, with wooden shelves on both sides, and the narrow aisle between them felt a bit cramped with two adults standing together.

Wen Shuyu took a small step back, pointing at his forehead. “You kissed me without my permission. I haven’t even gotten around to settling the score with you, and you’re talking about ‘returning the favor’?”

He had played her like one of the video clips he always watched, starting with a question that didn’t even need to be asked.

“My mistake,” Jiang Huaiyu apologized quickly and sincerely. “But I have to say, kissing feels pretty good. Don’t you agree, wife?”

His gaze was genuine, yet in the dim light, it sparkled with a hint of mischief. Wen Shuyu pushed his face away as he leaned in closer.

“No, I don’t.”

Her eyes were drawn to his soft, pink lips, slightly pursed—a lovely shade of cherry red.

It was those very lips that had kissed her that night.

They had kissed for so long… for what felt like an eternity.

In over twenty years of life, she had surely thought about kissing, but never with Jiang Huaiyu.

Bringing her thoughts back, Wen Shuyu recalled why she was there—everything at home had been organized by Jiang Huaiyu.

“Where’s the wedding photo?”

She searched through every shelf but found nothing.

Jiang Huaiyu stepped in front of her, boxing her in against the storage cabinet. “Wife, if you say something sweet, I’ll find it for you right away.”

“I’ll look for it myself.” Wen Shuyu wasn’t one to give in easily. She turned away and resumed searching the cabinet.

Jiang Huaiyu sighed and smiled helplessly. “It’s not here.”

With that, he gently led her out of the storage room.

Passing the dining room, Jiang Huaiyu sat her down in a chair. “Eat first.”

“Oh, alright.”

Dinner for two: four dishes and a soup, all prepared by Jiang Huaiyu himself.

Even though their parents had hired a housekeeper, Jiang Huaiyu had refused, insisting on cooking himself.

The wedding photo, carefully placed by Jiang Huaiyu in the bookshelf, was now sitting among rows of their pictures—smiling, laughing, and holding each other.

Wen Shuyu had never noticed.

Faced with so many wedding photos, Wen Shuyu found herself in a dilemma—how could she choose just one?

There were photos of their foreheads touching, noses lightly bumped, arms wrapped around each other…

Every single photo was the perfect template for a wedding shot—sweet, beautiful, but somehow, even though it hadn’t been that long, it felt as if they belonged to a distant past.

Jiang Huaiyu picked up one photo and placed it in her hand. “Choose this one.”

Wen Shuyu looked down at the photo—Jiang Huaiyu was kissing her neck.

Too intimate. Too ambiguous.

“I’ll choose this one.”

It was a candid shot of her from behind, wearing a white shirt. The photographer had captured the moment just as the sun was setting.

The fading light turned the sky into a fiery orange, with clouds drifting like ribbons across the horizon, painting the ocean with deep hues of red.

After the shoot, they had changed back into their clothes and sat by the sea, watching the sunset together.

She had leaned against Jiang Huaiyu’s shoulder, tired, and drifted off to sleep.

Even though you couldn’t see her face, just her silhouette from behind, Wen Shuyu had felt a sense of joy in that moment. Jiang Huaiyu had tilted his head slightly and gently caressed her hair.

It gave her the illusion that Jiang Huaiyu truly liked her.

She liked it more than any staged smile—this spontaneous, natural moment.

Wen Shuyu placed the photos on the table, and as she lifted her gaze, she caught sight of the picture in front of her.

The ring on her ring finger had never been taken off, and whenever she forgot her hand cream, the emptiness felt even more pronounced.

Habits aren’t always a good thing, but she had fallen into one again.

Meng Man came over to discuss a case, but her eyes quickly landed on the photo. “Oh, Yuyu, looks like you’re taking the act into real life now. Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for Jiang Huaiyu?”

Wen Shuyu gave a small nod. “Falling for him? Not exactly, but I’m thinking of making this ‘fake act’ real.”

“Good! Forget about Lu Yunheng,” Meng Man teased.

The mention of Lu Yunheng didn’t stir any emotions in Wen Shuyu—she really didn’t care anymore.

Just then, Cheng Xianzhi, standing near the door, overheard their conversation. After all, they were married, so it was only a matter of time before the fake became real.

But, she hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly.

Wen Shuyu noticed Cheng Xianzhi at the doorway and took out an invitation from her bag. “It’s an invite to Jiang Huaiyu’s company’s new product launch. They’ve asked us to attend. This is for both of you.”

Meng Man grinned. “We’re guests, but what about you, Lawyer Wen? Are you going as the lady of the house?”

“Senior, you’ve gotten mischievous,” Wen Shuyu replied with a playful smile.

“I’ll be there on time,” Cheng Xianzhi said.

On June 22nd, the summer solstice, the launch event for Liangshi Technology’s new products began promptly.

Wen Shuyu had cleared her schedule and arrived on time. Jiang Huaiyu had reserved front-row seats for them.

The host for the event was Song Jinnan, who was lively and engaging, bringing warmth to the crowd while staying professional.

The product introduction was led by Jiang Huaiyu.

Under the spotlight, Jiang Huaiyu stepped forward with measured, confident strides, dressed in a sharp deep blue suit. His strong features seemed even more striking under the stage lights.

Despite the formal setting, he wasn’t nervous. His expression was relaxed, dignified, and graceful.

Nothing, it seemed, had ever fazed him.

No matter the industry, Jiang Huaiyu always excelled.

She had once disliked him because they had competed for the top spot in exams.

Now, on stage, Jiang Huaiyu spoke calmly, his tall frame and flawless features glowing under the lights. His rich, deep voice turned a boring PowerPoint presentation into something people wanted to hear.

Suddenly, he turned his head toward her. His previously indifferent expression softened into a smile, his lips forming a perfect arc.

Their gazes met from across the room, and his smile deepened.

“Meng Man whispered, “Your husband’s looking at you.”

Wen Shuyu’s face flushed, and she quickly looked down at his navy blue tie—she had tied it that morning, and now, it was slightly askew.

That morning, Wen Shuyu had just woken up when Jiang Huaiyu pulled her into the wardrobe to pick out his clothes.

Among the row of black, white, and gray suits, Wen Shuyu pointed at the black one. “This one.”

Naturally, he chose a dark-patterned black tie.

“Help me tie it, wife,” Jiang Huaiyu coaxed softly.

“I don’t know how,” Wen Shuyu replied, feeling a bit helpless.

She truly didn’t know—she had even forgotten how to tie a scarf.

“I’ll teach you.” Jiang Huaiyu took her delicate hand and gently held it as he showed her how to loop and tie the tie.

His hand was firm around hers, guiding her like a patient teacher.

She was so close she could see his face, his lips, and it immediately reminded her of that night’s kiss. The proximity was overwhelming.

Her heart raced, and the fluttering in her chest grew stronger as she tied the tie in silence.

Jiang Huaiyu wrapped his arms around her waist. “Wife, how about a kiss in return?”

Wen Shuyu’s heart skipped a beat. “No.”

He didn’t listen to her, though. The kiss landed on her forehead, soft and lingering.

“I’ll wait for your return gesture,” he whispered.

Two young women nearby were chatting, and their voices reached Wen Shuyu’s ears.

“What a pity—someone as handsome as Jiang Huaiyu is already married.”

“I envy his wife.”

Jiang Huaiyu raised his hand, his ring catching the light. The cold white gleam of his wedding band was unmistakable—his marriage was no secret.

During the Q&A session, after the usual questions, one reporter asked, “Mr. Jiang, may I ask you a personal question?”

When did gossip become so universal?

Jiang Huaiyu nodded, signaling approval.

“Your tie clip is so cute. Did your wife buy it for you?”

Only then did Wen Shuyu notice the tie clip—a fish-shaped design that didn’t quite match his suit.

The usually composed man smiled warmly, looking toward Wen Shuyu. “No, I had it specially made. The character ‘yu’ is in my wife’s name.”

A few sharp-eyed reporters noticed his cufflinks were also fish-shaped.

“May I take a photo with you?” another reporter asked.

Jiang Huaiyu hesitated for a moment. “Sorry, my wife is in the audience. I’ll need to ask her first.”

The man on stage slowly descended, walking step by step toward her.

Reaching her side, he asked softly, “Wife, is it okay?”

Under the gaze of the audience, Wen Shuyu nodded, “It’s fine.”

Jiang Huaiyu pulled her onstage for a photo. “I can’t take a solo photo with any other woman,” he added with a teasing smile.

In the end, Wen Shuyu wasn’t sure how she had become the main focus, considering she had only come as a business guest.

The launch event was a success, just as Wen Shuyu had expected—Jiang Huaiyu never entered a battle unprepared.

At the evening banquet, Jiang Huaiyu had shed his suit jacket, leaving only a white shirt, the top two buttons undone, and his sleeves rolled up.

In contrast to the earlier composed look, this time, he exuded a carefree, relaxed charm.

Wen Shuyu, glancing at his muscular forearm, noticed the familiar fish-shaped watch on his wrist.

A woman was chatting with Jiang Huaiyu, both of them laughing in agreement over something.

Wen Shuyu didn’t disturb them, content to drift around the venue.

She quietly selected a black dress for the evening.

The strapless mermaid gown in deep black hugged her curves perfectly, and her long, lustrous hair cascaded gracefully down her back.

In the glittering ballroom, amidst clinking glasses and the murmurs of chatter, she was a sight to behold.

Many of the guests were professionals from the medical industry, none of whom she was familiar with. Meng Man, the firm’s key public figure, was busy handing out business cards, determined to grow their firm to greater heights.

Cheng Xianzhi, playing the role of the “flower protector,” asked, “Aren’t you going to take a look?”

Since arriving, Wen Shuyu’s eyes had been fixed on Jiang Huaiyu, her face calm, but her heart felt a strange twinge. She wasn’t ready to admit it was because of him.

“No, Xianzhi, let’s find Senior Sister and grab something to eat.”

Her mind was elsewhere, and she barely noticed the carpet edge lifting beneath her feet, her ankle at risk of twisting.

“Watch out,” Cheng Xianzhi quickly steadied her, pulling his hand back just as fast.

“Thank you, Lawyer Cheng.”

Wen Shuyu mused to herself: “Is it the retrograde again? I keep tripping.”

The three of them found an empty table. Meng Man, ever the social butterfly, had gathered many contacts, and asked with a playful smile, “Aren’t you going to find your husband?”

Wen Shuyu stirred her cake with a spoon, “He’s the star of the show today, too busy.”

As she spoke, a woman approached.

The cake in her plate was being mashed into a mess, no longer resembling its original form.

Meng Man sighed at the cake’s misfortune, “Go talk to him.”

Wen Shuyu pressed her lips together. “No. They’re discussing business.”

She knew better than to intrude on that.

On the other side of the venue, Gu Wanqiao watched Jiang Huaiyu, clearly distracted. “You should go. Why make things hard for yourself?”

Wen Shuyu and Cheng Xianzhi were chatting and laughing together, seemingly indifferent to him.

“I’ll go in a bit,” Jiang Huaiyu muttered, clearly reluctant.

Gu Wanqiao gave his shoulder a playful pat, “You know she’ll leave soon. You’ll be the one calming her down.”

She knew Fishy well, and she knew her cousin even better.

Song Jinnan joined their conversation. “The medical crowd sure knows how to drink. I’m here to slow things down.”

His neck was flushed red.

Once he left, Wen Shuyu adjusted her dress and made her way across the room. Halfway, she encountered Jiang Huaiyu and instinctively looped her arm through his, tilting her head up with a smile. “Hubby, how much longer?”

Jiang Huaiyu had been searching for her after Song Jinnan left. He bent his head—this wasn’t the first time—and midway, they met.

“Almost done, darling. Are you tired?”

“A little,” she admitted, glancing at a familiar face approaching.

Gu Wanqiao was there.

“Qiao Jie, when did you get back?”

Gu Wanqiao was Jiang Huaiyu’s cousin, and Wen Shuyu had always liked her.

“Yesterday. I couldn’t make it to your wedding, don’t be upset.”

Wen Shuyu pouted, feigning a little grievance, “A bit. You didn’t come, and Jiang Huaiyu didn’t even tell me you were back.”

Gu Wanqiao laughed, “I wanted to surprise you. I was thinking of taking you out for a meal tomorrow.”

“No need, let Jiang Huaiyu treat us.”

He hadn’t told her about his cousin’s return for a reason—she would always overshadow him.

As the guests began to leave, familiar faces remained, and Gu Wanqiao leaned in, whispering, “How did you and Huaiyu end up together? Didn’t you used to dislike him?”

Everyone who knew them well was already aware, but Wen Shuyu lowered her voice, “Mutual affection, naturally. We got married because we clicked.”

“Well, that’s good.”

Jiang Huaiyu heard her words about “mutual affection,” and even though he knew it wasn’t entirely true, the weight in his chest lifted.

People kept approaching them, and Wen Shuyu smiled sweetly, looking every bit the CEO’s wife.

The evening gradually wound down, and the two of them were the last to leave.

After wearing high heels all night, Wen Shuyu’s feet ached terribly. She huffed, “Jiang Huaiyu, carry me.”

“At your command, my dear,” Jiang Huaiyu said with a chuckle, kneeling so she could climb onto his back. She clutched her shoes tightly.

Swaying lazily through the lobby, the crystal chandelier above sparkled like royalty.

As they passed by a business partner, the man commented with a smile, “Mr. Jiang and his wife are so affectionate.”

Jiang Huaiyu smiled gently, “You flatter me, Mr. Shen. Take care.”

Wen Shuyu buried her face in his back, feeling utterly embarrassed.

“Let me down, we might run into someone else.”

He chuckled softly, “No need. We’re almost there.”

The driver was waiting by the door.

Once inside the car, Wen Shuyu dismissed Jiang Huaiyu’s hand as she stared out the window, watching the streetlights pass by.

A moth fluttered, attracted to the light.

Jiang Huaiyu began to play with her hand, the slight friction of their wedding bands making a faint sound.

The car remained silent as it drove into the underground parking lot. The driver stepped out, leaving just the two of them.

Wen Shuyu sat with her back to him, purposefully avoiding his gaze.

She couldn’t quite admit it—but she was a little jealous and uneasy.

Gently, Jiang Huaiyu lifted her foot, his palm warming her skin as he began to massage it.

He watched her flushed cheeks, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“The first woman was a doctor from the city hospital, Song Jinnan’s cousin. The second was a medical rep, interested in Song Jinnan and asked for his contact. The third was my cousin. You know her.”

His touch was warm and persistent, massaging deeper and deeper, until it made her toes tingle.

Even her heart seemed to pulse with the sensation.

Wen Shuyu tried to keep her composure, feigning indifference, “Oh, no need to explain. You were discussing business.”

She wouldn’t admit it, but just a little part of her cared.

Jiang Huaiyu’s head rested on her shoulder, his voice low and playful. “I don’t want Mrs. Jiang to misunderstand. I don’t want to go home to kneel on the washing board, the keyboard, or deal with durians.”

Wen Shuyu let out a soft laugh, “Pfft, we don’t even have those at home.”

Their house had strict rules, but none of the bizarre punishments he was suggesting.

Jiang Huaiyu sighed, “Oh, they’ve always been there. It’s your right as Mrs. Jiang.”

Wen Shuyu rolled her eyes with a playful smile. “Oh, let’s just go home and sleep.”

Side by side, they walked toward the stairwell. Wen Shuyu hesitated for a moment, her pinky finger slipping into his hand. She called softly, “Jiang Huaiyu.”

At the sound of her voice, the man turned his head toward her.

Wen Shuyu tugged on his tie, standing on her tiptoes, and whispered into his ear, her breath warm against his skin.

“Hubby, let’s call it even.”