Chapter 23: Surrender

The moment her words left her lips, Jiang Huaiyu hadn’t even fully processed them before a cool, fleeting sensation pressed against his own.

It was quick, like a dragonfly skimming the water or a dandelion softly landing to the ground.

A momentary touch.

No sensation, really.

Wen Shuyu pulled away, her lips just brushing his, eyes meeting his bewildered gaze.

Her heel had barely touched the ground when Jiang Huaiyu’s large hand found her waist, pulling her back into his embrace. Without hesitation, he lowered his head and captured her lips once more, sealing them in a more desperate kiss.

Their breaths mingled, quick and heavy, noses brushing.

His hand, warm and demanding, caressed her waist before pinching gently, forcing her lips apart.

It was no soft breeze or gentle rain. No, it was a storm that arrived without warning, fierce and unrelenting.

Their lips and tongues tangled, exchanging the sweet, lingering taste of grapes, malt, and the cool, creamy flavor of ice cream.

In the darkness of the underground garage, their passionate kiss filled the air, mingling with the sound of their heavy breathing, intensified by the champagne and Jiang Huaiyu’s domineering nature. Wen Shuyu found herself dizzy from the force of it all.

“Mmm.”

She gasped for breath, trying to pull away, but Jiang Huaiyu held her firm against the wall, leaving no escape.

She had no choice but to surrender to his fervent kiss.

The sound of footsteps—steady and growing closer—echoed in the distance, signaling a neighbor’s late return home.

Her nerves tightened, the sound snapping her back to reality.

In a panic, she squirmed, but Jiang Huaiyu held her fast, as if he wanted to mold her into his chest.

The fishtail dress clung to her curves, accentuating every delicate line of her body, leaving her shoulders and neck exposed to the cool air. Jiang Huaiyu’s kiss only deepened, his hands roaming more insistently as her mind buzzed with confusion and desire.

The footsteps continued, retreating into the distance, offering a fleeting moment of relief.

Wen Shuyu’s racing heart finally calmed enough to match the intensity of his kiss. Her eyelashes dampened as her pulse pounded, her body trembling as though it were not her own.

Time passed, though she could not say how long. Finally, Jiang Huaiyu pulled away, reluctant to end the kiss. He gently brushed his lips against hers one last time, a playful, almost wicked smile forming as he whispered,

“Mrs. Jiang, now this is what I call reciprocity.”

Bathed in the dim light, he took in the sight of her flushed cheeks, her lips swollen and moist, her lashes still damp. The sight ignited a darker desire within him—he wanted to see her crumble, to see her broken, vulnerable.

Wen Shuyu, still reeling, slumped into his arms, feeling as though she had run a marathon. She couldn’t help but wonder why she’d ever provoked him, how he had progressed so quickly, how, despite this being only their second kiss, he had already mastered the art of leaving her disoriented and craving more.

She gripped the collar of his shirt, slightly wrinkled from her touch, breathing heavily.

“Well, I guess we’re even now,” she muttered, trying to regain composure.

Her words had an unexpected hint of negotiation.

Jiang Huaiyu grinned, his lips brushing hers once more. “Looking forward to the next round of reciprocity, Mrs. Jiang.”

As they finally parted, a thin strand of silver lingered between their lips.

The kiss had drained her, and by the time they reached the elevator, Wen Shuyu could barely keep her eyes open. Jiang Huaiyu kept his arm wrapped around her, holding her steady as they ascended.

Once inside, Wen Shuyu kicked off her heels and tossed her bag onto the entryway table. She headed for the bathroom, ready to soak in a bath and process everything that had happened.

Sinking into the warm water, she lay on the edge of the tub, replaying the events of the evening, coming to a stark conclusion—this was spiraling out of control.

She hadn’t expected to fall so quickly, not over just one kiss. Was it the bridge effect or was it real?

She couldn’t say for sure.

But one thing was certain: she wasn’t repulsed. In fact, when he spoke of the next “reciprocity,” she found herself strangely excited.

Outside, Jiang Huaiyu called out softly, “Yuyu, are you okay?”

She’d been in there for nearly half an hour, and while he wasn’t normally one to worry, tonight, after the alcohol and everything else, he feared she might faint.

“I’m fine, I’ll be out in a minute,” Wen Shuyu replied.

She had nothing but dirty clothes in the laundry basket—she hadn’t even brought any pajamas or underwear. Wrapped in a towel, she opened the door.

There he was, standing at the doorway, shirt loose, neck slightly flushed.

The charming, yet dangerous, second-generation rich kid.

She shot him a glance. “Wait for a second, I forgot to grab my clothes.”

Jiang Huaiyu moved into the closet, picking out a black silk nightgown. He murmured in her ear, his voice low and teasing.

“Mrs. Jiang, you can’t trust men, especially not your own husband.”

Wen Shuyu didn’t know how tempting she looked in that moment—her damp hair cascading over her shoulders, her skin pale and glowing, her cheeks flushed, and her long legs on full display.

Pick any one of those, and they would have lethal force on their own. Together, they were unstoppable.

She took the clothes from his hands, giving him a sideways glance. “Jiang Huaiyu, if you had any self-control, you’d donate it to someone in need.”

She’d already felt the tension when they kissed. But even now, after entering the room, his hands hadn’t let go of the tension between them.

His playful torment had only grown stronger.

Jiang Huaiyu followed her steps, his voice light with mischief. “Wife, I think my self-control is perfectly fine. But in this moment, with you looking like this? Not even the most disciplined man could resist.”

With a sharp “slam,” the door was firmly shut, leaving Wen Shuyu outside.

What was she acting like? Wasn’t she just someone who had finished a normal bath?

She gazed at her reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back at her was undeniably tempting.

Then, in the next moment, the storm hit.

What kind of clothes had Jiang Huaiyu bought her? All black lace.

She had never bought these kinds of clothes, and the answer was obvious — Jiang Huaiyu had picked them out.

“Jiang Huaiyu, get me something else!” she yelled, her voice ringing out clearly through the door.

“Don’t you think it’s quite lovely?” Jiang Huaiyu muttered as he scratched his nose, obediently heading to the wardrobe to fetch new clothes.

Trying to avoid triggering another outburst, he was much more cautious this time—but not too cautious.

The soft white light of the bathroom lamp filtered through the frosted glass door, casting the curves of a woman’s body on the door.

Through the crack in the door, Jiang Huaiyu slipped the clothes inside. A long, elegant hand stretched in to retrieve them, but instead of pulling back, it ensnared Wen Shuyu’s hand, gently tracing her knuckles.

One by one, his fingers played with her knuckles.

“Jiang Huaiyu, let go,” Wen Shuyu whispered, her voice low and tense, afraid he might force the door open.

They shared a bed but had never been completely honest with each other.

A low chuckle came from outside the door, and the next moment, Jiang Huaiyu gave her ring finger a soft pinch, releasing her hand with a teasing smile.

It was a close call, but nothing more.

When Wen Shuyu finally saw the clothes in her hands, her first thought was that she might just kill Jiang Huaiyu.

It wasn’t the black lace nightgown, but a red lace version—matching lingerie, to be exact.

Only that.

Wen Shuyu wrapped herself in the bath towel and tossed the clothes into Jiang Huaiyu’s arms. “You bought them, you wear them.”

She had many nightgowns, but none that exposed so much.

Deep V-neck, open back, they looked more like lingerie than sleepwear.

It was all wasted after their so-called “return of favors” last night.

Jiang Huaiyu threw the nightgown casually on the bed, raising an eyebrow with a grin. “It actually looks pretty good, doesn’t it?”

His dark eyes seemed to be almost pressed against Wen Shuyu’s face.

In the midst of their argument, the bath towel slipped, revealing the red nightgown to Jiang Huaiyu, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Wen Shuyu clenched her fist and punched him.

Jiang Huaiyu swallowed hard as he looked at the woman before him, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

The red nightgown against her smooth skin accentuated her delicate, flawless figure, half-covered, like a narrow gorge, with her waist perfect enough to be cupped in his hand.

And still, his gaze lingered, slowly taking in every inch.

“Jiang Huaiyu, get out!” she snapped.

By the time he realized what was happening, he and his pillow had been unceremoniously thrown out of the master bedroom.

Staring blankly at the locked door, he knew he’d crossed the line.

A while later, his phone and charger were thrown out as well.

Jiang Huaiyu sent a voice message to Wen Shuyu, his deep, low voice deliberately slow and drawn-out, with a hint of mock helplessness.

“Yuyu, wife, darling, Mrs. Jiang, I was wrong. I’ve come with the keyboard.”

His voice was seductive, almost pitiful.

“Crazy,” Wen Shuyu muttered, not feeling the slightest bit softhearted. She hit the power button on her phone and went to sleep.

Through the crack in the door, she saw the bedroom light go out.

It was clear he wouldn’t be able to get back inside.

The next day, Wen Shuyu ignored him entirely, not sparing him a glance.

She automatically dismissed his presence.

Just as she sat down at her desk, her phone buzzed with messages from Shen Ruoying and Meng Man.

Opening them, she saw an article from the official WeChat account of Liangshi Technology. The second headline read: When your boss is a whipped husband, what do you do?

It was a large, bold title that screamed wealth and idle boredom.

The article included a photo of her and Jiang Huaiyu together, and she calmly saved the picture, while the rest was just playful teasing.

Jiang Huaiyu really indulged them.

Both their families had seen it too and forwarded it to their family group chats.

Wen Shuyu fumed, thinking: This guy is great at setting up personas and putting on an act. He fooled everyone when all he wanted was to get his hands on me.

He exposed himself last night.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. While most people would close their eyes or turn away, he stared straight at her, inspecting every inch.

It was unfair—she had never seen him like that.

Since last night, Jiang Huaiyu had kept sending messages. Blocking him felt too childish, so she just selectively ignored him.

[Yuyu, the Eastern European revolutions, the Soviet Union collapsed.]

How childish. Of course, she knew the Cold War had ended.

One message after another, all full of silly puns.

[A pineapple went to the barber. It sat there for a long time, but the barber didn’t cut its hair, so it said, “Cut me, please!”]

[Okay, bad, okay, bad, they’re all good friends. One day, OK calls Bad to go out. Bad asks, ‘Who’s with us?’ OK says, ‘Good and us.’]

[One day, a bear was doing laundry, but there was one spot it couldn’t clean. The bear’s mother said, ‘Scrub it harder!’ The little bear, with red eyes, said, ‘I scrubbed, I scrubbed.’]

Wen Shuyu scrolled through the messages, laughing more and more. She couldn’t imagine how Jiang Huaiyu had sent these, they were nothing like his usual style.

In the end, she sent a single emoji.

It marked the end of their cold war.

With the company’s semi-annual accounts wrapped up, the team building event for Ruishan Law Firm was about to begin.

The destination was a coastal city with a pink beach.

Cold war over, Wen Shuyu was packing in the wardrobe when Jiang Huaiyu walked in.

“Why are you packing?” he asked.

Wen Shuyu, not lifting her head, replied, “Company retreat.”

“So why are you bringing these clothes?”

Her suitcase was full of tank tops, shorts, and short dresses.

Wen Shuyu shot him a glance. “What do you think? Of course, I’m wearing them.”

He knew she would, but the issue was that they were all camisoles—super short ones, with barely any fabric at all.

Jiang Huaiyu squatted beside her and said sternly, “Change a few outfits.”

With a loud “thud,” the suitcase snapped shut, and Wen Shuyu raised her voice, “I’m not changing.”

“Yuyu,” he said, “While committing a crime and choosing what clothes to wear aren’t related, it’s still risky.”

He tried to reason with her in a brotherly tone, almost like an older sibling looking out for her.

Wen Shuyu pushed her suitcase to the door and calmly replied, “In a society ruled by law, being with a crowd means there’s no danger.”

“I don’t want anyone eyeing my wife,” Jiang Huaiyu admitted helplessly. He was just that possessive.

Wen Shuyu waved him off, “If I’m just playing the role of a wife, then one day the curtain will fall on this act.”

Jiang Huaiyu gave her a gentle tap on the head and said slowly, “Well, you can forget it. This show will never end. We’re going to be husband and wife for life.”

He continued to remind her, “Wen Yuyu, stay away from all those random men, especially that one, and never talk to strangers or accept their invitations.”

It was reminiscent of when parents would warn you as a child: don’t talk to strangers and don’t accept candy from them.

Wen Shuyu tilted her chin up and said, “Who is that ‘someone’? Jiang Huaiyu, you really do have too much to say. I’m not your daughter.”

Jiang Huaiyu leaned against the bookshelf and said in a leisurely tone, “It’s just like raising a daughter. From childhood to now, besides your parents, I’ve been worried about you a lot too. Worried about you falling in love too early, worried about you being taken away by some other man.”

“No wonder you intercepted every love letter someone sent me when I was in school,” Wen Shuyu muttered, “and ended up taking me away.”

Whenever any boy sent her a love letter, Jiang Huaiyu would always take it away, saying she needed to focus on her studies.

It wasn’t until high school that she started to like Lu Yunheng, and their relationship had broken down.

Jiang Huaiyu thought, if she was still liking other guys, even though he hadn’t kept a close enough watch, at least he had taken her in. He had “stolen” his childhood friend, and no one else was going to take her away.

He frowned slightly, shook his head, and sighed, “I didn’t steal you. I’m legally certified, and you’re Mrs. Jiang, brought here in a grand wedding.”

If there were a prize for best performance in life, Wen Shuyu would definitely give Jiang Huaiyu an Oscar. “Jiang Huaiyu, it’s such a waste that you don’t go into acting.”

Jiang Huaiyu slightly leaned in closer, his hand grazing her temple. “Yuyu, I’m not acting.”

“I really want to spend my whole life with you.”

His presence enveloped her in a scent of pine, and his voice was cold and solemn, laced with sincerity like a vow.

Maybe she was immune to it, or perhaps unwilling to believe in his true feelings.

She looked up and met his deep eyes, and all she could see was her.

“When did you start thinking like this?” she asked.

“Since the day we got married,” he answered.

The true answer, though, was ten years ago.

The next day, Jiang Huaiyu drove Wen Shuyu to the airport. In front of Cheng Xianzhi, he purposely hugged her and whispered in her ear, “Wife, remember to think of me, be good, and stay away from men with bad intentions.”

Almost like he was naming names.

To everyone at the law firm, they looked like a loving couple.

Wen Shuyu wasn’t used to hugging in front of colleagues. She scratched her temple, “Oh, just go back already.”

Reluctantly, Jiang Huaiyu let her go, but after two steps, he turned back, pulled her arm, and leaned down to kiss her lips.

“Wife, I’m going to miss you. Be good.”

“Jiang Huaiyu, you’ve gone too far,” she scolded. How could he kiss her in public?

The other colleagues were shocked and whispered, “Damn, Fish’s husband is like this?”

“Oh my god, the dog food is so sweet.”

“Fish’s face is so red.”

“The way he grabbed her arm is so smooth.”

Su Nian, braver than the rest, said directly, “Brother-in-law, since you’re so reluctant, why not come with us?”

Jiang Huaiyu smiled like a breeze. “You guys have fun. I’ll pass on the excitement.”

From South City to Port City, it was a two-hour flight. Meng Man and Wen Shuyu sat together.

Meng Man, curious, asked, “Does Jiang Huaiyu like you?”

Women’s intuition always felt something was up, and his casual gestures didn’t seem like just a husband fulfilling his duties.

“I don’t know,” Wen Shuyu gazed out the window, lost in thought.

Jiang Huaiyu had said that from the day they got married, he wanted to spend his life with her, but wanting to spend a lifetime together and liking someone were two different things.

Meng Man pressed, “Do you like him?”

Wen Shuyu shook her head, “I don’t know.”

Entering marriage was so familiar. The feelings she had as a child and the joy they once shared were completely different now that they were older.

With Lu Yunheng, she always wanted to see him, always wanted to share, but with Jiang Huaiyu, it was peace of mind.

If Lu Yunheng was a stormy sea, then Jiang Huaiyu was a calm breeze.

She knew he wouldn’t leave her, knew he would unconditionally accept her, but somehow something was still missing.

Meng Man smiled. “Well, just go with the flow. Enjoy the holiday, that’s the most important thing.”

“Yeah.”

The plane landed smoothly. Freed from the constraints of work, the group let loose and had fun on the beach, and Wen Shuyu joined in.

A whole day passed without any messages from Jiang Huaiyu, until evening, when Wen Shuyu posted a photo on her Moments.

On her shoulder, a stranger’s jacket rested, and immediately Jiang Huaiyu booked a flight, rushing to Port City that very night.