Chapter 3

The motel’s facilities were old and worn out, and the room was sparsely furnished.

A clock hung on the wall along with a calendar featuring a popular actress. Aside from a table and a chair, there was nothing else.

“This is what you meant by taking responsibility for me?”

The man leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. His bronze skin exuded a wild, masculine strength—broad shoulders, a narrow waist, long powerful legs—he was the definition of a specimen.

His jacket was still draped over Song Qingdai, leaving him in just a well-worn, faded undershirt.

His arms were strong and muscular, his eyebrows sharp and eyes deep and intense.

By now, some of the previous night’s events were starting to come back to Song Qingdai.

What Song Mingshan had drugged her with was actually livestock mating medication—not much of it, but the effects were extremely potent.

Knowing she’d been drugged and hearing that she was to be delivered to Jiang Zhaoyun’s room, she had randomly grabbed a man instead.

It was dark and chaotic at the time—she hadn’t even seen his face clearly before she… threw herself at him.

Thinking about it now, Song Qingdai wanted to die.

She also wanted to dig a hole and disappear into it.

“I…”

The man’s dark gaze swept over her. Song Qingdai lowered her head, exposing her fair, delicate neck.

She took after her mother’s pale complexion—no matter how much she worked under the sun, her skin remained porcelain and supple.

Despite working long hours every day, her skin was still soft enough to seem like it could drip water.

Her long, curled lashes fluttered like raven feathers.

Traces he left on her body were still visible, and the air in the room was still heavy with the remnants of last night’s passion.

Her cheeks burned.

In her past life, though she married Zhang Shaowen, she only learned after the wedding that he was impotent.

Because of that, Zhang Shaowen had a twisted personality and took great pleasure in tormenting her in every possible way.

It was as if her pain brought him great satisfaction.

So there had never been any real intimacy between them—no actual husband-wife relations. Naturally, she had no idea how painful a first time could be. Her entire body felt like it had been broken apart.

“Comrade Gao Han, about what happened tonight…” Song Qingdai took a deep breath, ready to explain.

But the man cut her off.

“What, not going to take responsibility?”

What?

For a moment, Song Qingdai thought she’d misheard him.

She’d heard of Gao Han—known to be ruthless and wild, with a fierce reputation. No one in Hongxing Town dared to cross the Gao family, and Gao Han had inherited all of that fearsome temper.

He was never afraid of a fight.

Especially his mother—she was infamous for being hot-tempered and loud. People would go out of their way to avoid walking past the Gao family home.

And yet, the man she’d grabbed randomly… turned out to be the notorious Gao Han?

“Didn’t you say you’d take responsibility?”

“Comrade Song, do you want to marry that old geezer Zhang Shaowen, or do you want to marry me?”

He raised an eyebrow, and the air around him instantly turned roguish.

Paired with that wild, rugged face, he was downright intimidating.

Hearing his words, Song Qingdai’s heart began to race uncontrollably.

He looked at her dazed expression, and irritation bubbled up in his chest.

Was he that scary? Did he frighten her?

Why else would she be too stunned to speak?

“Marry you.”

After a long moment of silence, Song Qingdai finally murmured the words from her moist lips.

A gleam flashed in Gao Han’s eyes—but it disappeared just as quickly.

“Get dressed. I’ll take you home.”

He averted his gaze from her fair skin. He hadn’t expected her to be this delicate—just a light squeeze and she’d turn red.

Besides, when a man reaches that point, it’s nearly impossible to control himself.

Especially when the woman underneath him was Song Qingdai.

Song Qingdai picked up her clothes from the floor while Gao Han, very considerately, turned away.

His voice was cold: “I’ll come to your house tomorrow to propose. You’d better cancel the engagement with Zhang Shaowen.”

He didn’t want to give fate the chance to mess things up again.

This opportunity hadn’t come easy—and she’d walked right into it herself. There was no way he’d let her back out now.

“…Okay.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper. But as soon as she stepped down, Song Qingdai gasped sharply. Her legs gave out, and she nearly collapsed.

It hurt!

Aching and sore all over.

Especially there—it felt like it had been relentlessly rubbed raw, and it still burned.

“Already can’t walk?”

A hand shot out just in time to steady her, saving her from falling.

Hearing that low, magnetic voice again, Song Qingdai’s face flushed even more.

She muttered under her breath, “I… it was my first time.”

It was her first time—and with Gao Han’s size and strength, and how… well-endowed he was—there was no way she could’ve handled it easily.

“I know.”

He paused, then added, “It was my first time too.”

Song Qingdai: “…”

She hadn’t even asked him!

When she got home, the atmosphere was deathly quiet.

Feng Cuifen had already dramatically recounted the day’s events to her father, Song Yuanshan, adding her own spin to it.

Meanwhile, Song Mingshan sat to the side, sobbing as she insisted she was willing to marry into the Zhang family in Qingdai’s place.

Otherwise, they’d have to return the 2,000 yuan bride price from Zhang Shaowen.

The Song family lived in a siheyuan (a traditional courtyard home), which was shared with several other households.

Song Yuanshan sat in his chair, puffing away at a cigarette without saying a word.

But when he saw Song Qingdai return, he snuffed out the cigarette and coldly snorted, “So you do know how to come home? Why didn’t you just die out there!”

This was a blended family. Song Qingdai had lost her birth mother at a young age due to illness.

Afterward, her father, Song Yuanshan, remarried Feng Cuifen—also divorced and with a child of her own. Soon after their marriage, they had Song Mingshan together.

They say when you get a stepmother, you also get a stepfather—and Song Qingdai had experienced that firsthand.

“Didn’t Mingshan say she’s willing to marry into the Zhang family for me? Then let her. The Gao family is coming tomorrow to propose.”

Song Qingdai didn’t want to waste another word on them.

With that, she turned and went to her room.

Ever since the remarriage, there hadn’t been enough space at home. Song Yuanshan had given her original room to Song Mingshan, and she’d been kicked into the storage room.

There were no windows in there. In the summer, it became a suffocating oven. Ants crawled everywhere, often biting her until her skin was red and swollen.

Seeing her so indifferent, Song Yuanshan cursed loudly outside her door.

Feng Cuifen, as usual, took the opportunity to play the “good cop,” sighing about how she’d grown up without a mother and thus lacked manners.

“Dad, don’t blame big sister anymore. Don’t worry—after I marry into the Zhang family, I’ll make sure to be good to you!”

“Good, good—my Mingshan is the most thoughtful and filial. Not like a certain ungrateful wretch. If I’d known it’d turn out like this, I should’ve strangled her at birth. Then we wouldn’t have to suffer this humiliation!”

“She’s completely disgraced the Song family!”