Chapter 45: Help Me

On a silent night, with the new moon hanging high in the sky, darkness enveloped the surroundings, the ink-like sky thick and impenetrable.

The car engine ran at a low speed, and a reading light flickered on, casting a dim glow like twilight. The night air was slightly cool, with the vents blowing out cold air.

It dispersed the fog, revealing intimacy.

However, Wen Shuyu felt as if she were in a furnace, while Jiang Huaiyu stared at her intently, his gaze dark, his black pupils hiding an endless abyss.

The aftereffects of the fruit wine took hold, making Wen Shuyu’s vision waver as if shrouded in the mist rising from the mountain at night.

She glanced around; the car doors were locked, and in the small, dim space, two adults lay in the back seat, feeling a bit cramped.

His voice pronounced the words “eat fish,” sending a tremor through her heart.

Wasn’t it just their second time? Was it really going this far?

“Can we go home?” she said, feeling a bit embarrassed.

The light wasn’t completely off, allowing her to see Jiang Huaiyu’s expression clearly.

The raw, undisguised desire in his eyes was unmistakable, just as he said, he wanted to consume her.

“No.”

An expected answer.

Wen Shuyu struggled to hold onto her will, forcing herself to ask the critical question, “Do you have protection in the car?”

“I do.” Jiang Huaiyu brushed her hair aside, the corner of his mouth curling up as he continued, “Several boxes.”

The previous car had been sent for maintenance, so they were using this less-frequently-driven vehicle, which had a spacious back seat. He had stuffed a few boxes of protection into the storage compartment.

Wen Shuyu clenched her fist and hit him lightly, “No wonder you changed cars; you had this planned all along, sneaky.”

Jiang Huaiyu willingly accepted the reprimand, “Yuyu, I’m wronged.”

He had the thought but didn’t expect it would come into play so soon.

Today, Wen Shuyu was wearing a pink, one-piece long dress. When the bow was untied, the fabric spilled across the leather seat like scattered pink roses.

“Baby, help me,” Jiang Huaiyu said, tearing open the serrated square box, his deep voice enticing Wen Shuyu.

Wen Shuyu opened her eyes, and after realizing what it was, she shook her head, “I can’t.”

“I’ll teach you,” Jiang Huaiyu insisted, forcefully taking her hands that hung at her sides and directing them toward the source of all evils.

It was her first time handling this thing, and she couldn’t tell the front from the back.

Her cheeks flushed completely red; it took a considerable effort for her to manage it.

Jiang Huaiyu bit her lip, holding it in his mouth.

A soft whimper escaped from his lips, a low murmur spilling forth.

In the cool night, the car body swayed slightly.

The night thickened, with flashes of lightning and thunder illuminating a corner of the car interior.

Outside, the rain poured down in torrents, hitting the car roof with a loud pitter-patter, like large and small beads falling on a jade plate.

The glass window became hazy, rising with mist.

The heavy rain extinguished the summer heat but couldn’t dissipate the intense warmth inside the car.

The temperature suddenly rose, and sweat soaked her hair.

A woman’s palm print was left on the glass, her heavy breathing mingling with the sound of the rain. “Jiang Huaiyu, it’s raining.”

Raindrops slid down the glass, forming continuous water lines, the palm print disappearing and reappearing in a cycle.

Jiang Huaiyu bit her neck, “Yuyu, call me husband.”

“Ah.” Caught off guard, Wen Shuyu instinctively tried to escape forward.

She wanted to get closer to the car door, to draw in some fresh air from the gap; she was in desperate need of oxygen.

But Jiang Huaiyu refused to grant her wish. He turned her head and dominantly kissed her lips, earlobe, and neck from behind.

He breathed his warmth into her.

In a fleeting moment, the scene before Wen Shuyu changed; it was no longer the rain pouring down in the darkness but Jiang Huaiyu’s face.

His hand cradled the top of her head, and she was forced to tilt her head back to endure his fiery kiss.

“Baby, just say it once, okay?”

The request in his tone contrasted sharply with his decisive, rhythmic actions, devoid of any pattern.

“Hu… husband, husband.” The fractured calls were like the final throes of heavy rain, falling intermittently on the car roof, a loud thud, no longer continuous.

The woman before him slightly parted her red lips, her eyes hazy with mist. Jiang Huaiyu’s tongue slid in smoothly, blocking her words.

“Who is Wen Shuyu’s husband?” Jiang Huaiyu leaned down and bit her porcelain-white skin on the shoulder and neck.

The man’s wicked sense of humor was fully displayed.

Seeing Lu Yunheng standing next to her made him uneasy.

Wen Shuyu took a deep breath, her mind hazy, as if she had already traveled the world. After a while, she finally replied, “Yes, yes… Jiang Huaiyu.”

Noticing her almost imperceptible moment of hesitation and dissatisfaction, Jiang Huaiyu held her tightly in his arms. “Baby, if your answer is slow, you’ll have to be punished.”

Chewing on cotton candy, her words were muffled.

As her rationality returned a bit, Wen Shuyu sniffed, her voice tinged with a slight cry, “You… you’re bullying me.”

Jiang Huaiyu coaxed her, “If you call me husband or brother, I won’t bully you.”

“Husband… Brother Huaiyu.” Her soft voice echoed in the cramped car.

As a result, the man became even more excited.

In the silent night, the car shook even more violently.

It felt like driving on a bumpy, muddy road.

The man held the woman’s hand, their fingers tightly intertwined as they climbed up the glass window, leaving behind a beautiful painting.

The bouquet of roses from the passenger seat fell to the floor, its petals scattering.

The back seat was relentless.

As the heavy rain began to cease, scattered droplets fell from the trees, and the “downpour” inside the car finally calmed, leaving only the thick sound of their breaths.

The perspiration evaporated, and Jiang Huaiyu rolled down the window to dispel the lingering scent.

He embraced Wen Shuyu, occasionally kissing her lips; she was his medicine.

“Liar, liar, liar, Jiang Huaiyu is a big liar.” Wen Shuyu had no strength left, and even her tone of accusation was weaker than usual.

He had promised not to bully her, yet… there were so many marks.

The impressions of fingers and faint bite marks remained.

Jiang Huaiyu wrapped her hair around his fingers, twirling it, and said, “Baby, what a man says at this moment has a credibility of zero.”

His voice was low and magnetic, spilling from his throat in a lazy tone.

It was especially tempting in the night.

Wen Shuyu tilted her head up to look at him, her entire demeanor one of satisfaction, as he held her tightly.

His black hair clung to his forehead, sweat sliding down.

“Wen Shuyu hates Jiang Huaiyu; he’s a big bad guy.” He always bullied her.

Jiang Huaiyu bit her earlobe, saying, “Jiang Huaiyu likes Wen Shuyu, very much, very much.”

The straightforward yet gentle confession directly poured into her ears.

It had barely been half a month since he confessed, and Wen Shuyu was still not accustomed to it.

Lying on his lap, she played with his palm, noting the thin calluses that formed on it, turning it over and over to look.

Her thoughts wandered, and seeing those knuckles made her think of colorful fragments.

There was a hint of something flirtatious and ambiguous.

With his palm up, Wen Shuyu noticed a scar on his wrist. “How did you get this?”

Jiang Huaiyu curled his fingers. “Don’t you care about my things at all?”

“Jiang always feels wronged,” Wen Shuyu said as she slid his ring off and on, off and on.

She listened to Jiang Huaiyu share the story behind the scar on his wrist.

When she was a child, on her birthday, a three-tier cake stand toppled over, and Jiang Huaiyu used his hand to shield her, showing that he was there to protect her from getting hurt.

Wen Shuyu turned over, kneeling on the mat, her cheeks slightly flushed as she looked at him. “Jiang Huaiyu, you don’t need to ask on purpose; my husband has always been you alone. In this life, it’s only Jiang Huaiyu.”

The dim light gave her courage. She leaned forward, grasping Jiang Huaiyu’s shoulders, and kissed his lips, breaking into a smile as she emphasized each word, “Wen Shuyu’s husband is Jiang Huaiyu. In this life, in the next life, and in the life after that, it will always be.”

He lacked security, so she would give him the sense of safety he needed.

Wen Shuyu patted his hair. “You don’t need to worry about Lu Yunheng. Whether he comes back or not has nothing to do with me. I’m not someone who goes back; I only like the grass that grows by my own nest.”

Jiang Huaiyu pressed his forehead against hers, their noses touching, creating a distance that was more tempting than a direct kiss. “Yuyu.”

He just wanted to call her name, the nickname he had given her, confirming that she was right in front of him.

What he had just said was no less than a confession.

Wen Shuyu raised her eyes. “Hmm? Let’s go home. I’m sleepy.”

After saying that, she covered her mouth and yawned.

“Okay.” He personally undid her clothes and put them back on her.

She struggled in front of the one-piece dress, fumbling for a long time before finally putting it on.

In the middle of the night in Nancheng, there were almost no cars on the road. The originally 40-minute drive took less than half an hour to reach Qinhuyuan.

Wen Shuyu leaned against the passenger seat, asleep, cradling a wilted rose.

When she bought it, it was vibrant and dripping with color; now the flower’s head hung down.

The car came to a smooth stop in the Qinhuyuan garage. Jiang Huaiyu looked at the extremely sleepy person, walked around the front of the car, and picked her up horizontally. The person in his arms seemed to sense it and slowly opened her eyes.

He comforted her, “Wife, go back to sleep. I’ll carry you inside.”

“Don’t forget to take the bag that Xiao Zizi gave me,” Wen Shuyu mumbled, still fighting off sleep while remembering someone else’s gift.

Once at home, when she was placed on the bed, Wen Shuyu found she was no longer sleepy and picked up her pajamas to take a shower.

As she stripped off her clothes, Wen Shuyu exclaimed, “Jiang Huaiyu, you must be a dog.”

Her neck, collarbone, and chest were all marked with red impressions.

Hearing her voice, Jiang Huaiyu pushed the door open.

Leaning against the shower screen, he rolled up his sleeves, revealing his slim forearms. With three buttons of his shirt undone and his eyes half-closed, he said, “I’m yours.”

No problem there; they were born on the same day, in the same month, in the same year.

Wen Shuyu pointed to the doorway. “You go out.”

“Understood, wifey.” Jiang Huaiyu lifted his long legs, took a couple of steps out, then turned back.

“Let’s wash together.” He couldn’t hold back anymore.

As Jiang Huaiyu walked, he unbuttoned his shirt, heading straight for the bathtub.

“I’m done washing.” Wen Shuyu quickly emerged from the water, abandoning the idea of a soak, and wrapped herself in a towel before stepping out.

Jiang Huaiyu grabbed her arm. “I won’t do anything.”

“I don’t believe you; your self-control is too poor.” Wen Shuyu stepped on his foot and immediately fled.

He didn’t believe it either; after all, the heat inside him had been impossible to suppress since he first came in.

He truly didn’t know how he had held back when they had just gotten married. After getting a taste of it, it was just too hard to resist.

As he dried his hair, he saw Wen Shuyu sitting on the floor, unwrapping a gift in her pink silk camisole nightgown.

She lifted the slipping strap with her fingers, and as his throat constricted, Jiang Huaiyu’s gaze shifted away from her rising chest. “Hey, aren’t you going to blow-dry your hair?”

“You help me.”

Her hair was too long, and she was taking too long to do it herself.

“Okay, my lady.” Jiang Huaiyu went to the bathroom to grab the hairdryer, squatting down behind her to dry her hair. Her soft hair slid through his fingers, gently swaying.

In just a few minutes, it was dry.

Wen Shuyu tore open the black wrapping bag, revealing a large box with a white diamond pattern. “Xiao Zizi picked out something nice.”

There was something else at the bottom of the box. Wen Shuyu opened it to take a glance, then quickly closed it tightly and fell silent.

It was a piece of lingerie, butterfly-shaped, supported only by a few thin strings at the back.

The man behind her saw it and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Wife, wear that for me next time.”

Wen Shuyu stood up. “I don’t want to; dream on.” Jiang Huaiyu fell to the ground.

She shoved the box into the very bottom of the wardrobe.

“What about the stars we were going to see tonight?” He had promised to take her stargazing, but it seemed better not to mention it.

Jiang Huaiyu replied nonchalantly, “I forgot. I’ll take you next time.”

“I’m not going.” Who knows where he’d drag her into the depths of some mountain forest, leaving her with nothing.

It was like calling for help but getting no response from heaven or earth.

In the south city, where the heavy rain had just stopped, the sun was shining brightly again.

The streets had been cleaned by sanitation workers, showing no trace of last night’s chaos.

The black Cullinan parked downstairs was the same.

Wen Shuyu refused Jiang Huaiyu’s offer to pick her up; she didn’t want to see that Cullinan for now. The scent had already dissipated, even though it had been personally cleaned by Jiang Huaiyu.

She also didn’t want to deal with Jiang Huaiyu at all.

Instead, she threw herself fully into her work.

The young girl at the front desk let the delivery man in. “Lawyer Wen, it’s another package from that family.”

Wen Shuyu looked at the large cardboard box and understood immediately.

Chen Jin’an’s parents had sent a lot of fresh produce again, all homegrown fruits and vegetables, along with a bucket of farm-fresh eggs.

They sent these every two weeks, and the delivery fees were quite a lot. Even when she told them not to send any more, they just wouldn’t listen.

A family of simple and kind-hearted people.

I heard that Chen Jin’an learned a skill while he was inside and would have no problem supporting himself when he got out.

He missed out on over 20 years of his prime, but the future still holds promise.

With their kind intentions, Wen Shuyu shared some of the produce with her colleagues and kept some for herself.

After receiving the delivery, Wen Shuyu met with a postpartum depression patient named Ye Keyi, accompanied by her friend Jiang Qianqian.

The request was for a divorce; they had already discussed it privately, but the other party refused to agree.

The reason was that the child was still young and needed their mother, and the father was unwilling to give up custody.

“Just endure it; it will pass.”

“Think of the child.”

“What a heartless mother.”

The people around her were saying the same old things, but she was determined to get a divorce.

The difficulty in this case lay in the fact that the man had not committed infidelity, engaged in domestic violence, or had any other bad habits.

Wen Shuyu felt uneasy and discreetly pulled aside Ye Keyi’s friend. “Please spend more time with her. I see that her mental state isn’t great. If anything happens, call me.”

Jiang Qianqian nodded. “I understand.”

As it was nearing the end of the workday, Jiang Huaiyu told her he wouldn’t be working overtime and would head home early to cook.

He never worked overtime, just wanted to go home and cook.

Wen Shuyu teased him, [“Mr. Jiang, is the company about to go bankrupt?”]

Jiang Huaiyu replied, [“I could still afford to keep a mermaid. If it comes to it, I’ll sell myself to Lawyer Wen.”]

Wen Shuyu shot back, [“You talk too much; I’m almost home.”]

Just as she was about to grab her bag to go home, a woman in her fifties or sixties, looking like an ordinary working woman and a bit nervous, was led in by the front desk. “Are you Lawyer Wen Shuyu?”

“I am. Please take a seat.”

The woman’s name was Lin Yuhua, and she asked Wen Shuyu for help with her divorce case.

Looking at her face, Wen Shuyu felt a strange sense of familiarity.

It seemed like she had seen her somewhere before.

While filling out the basic information, her husband’s name piqued Wen Shuyu’s curiosity even more, as if she had heard it somewhere, but she couldn’t recall where.

Lin Yuhua, Lu Zhiyong—these two names were clearly in her mind, but she just couldn’t remember.

It wasn’t until she returned home that Wen Shuyu was still thinking about those names.

On the dining table was a bouquet of fresh yellow roses; Jiang Huaiyu said he used to court her with a bouquet of flowers every day.

The aroma of food wafted from the kitchen as Jiang Huaiyu picked up a piece of pork rib. “Give it a try.”

Wen Shuyu chewed a couple of times and casually replied, “It’s fine.”

In truth, she didn’t taste much.

Leaning against the kitchen doorframe while biting her nails, her phone chimed with a message request, and she saw Lu Yunheng’s name.

Suddenly, it was as if her mind had been opened up, and she remembered.

Lu Yunheng’s father and mother—it seemed like those names were related.