Chapter 8: Intimate Relations

This time, she wasn’t pretending.

Song Qingyu was truly experiencing some stomach pain.

She had barely eaten all day, and even when faced with a table full of delicious dishes in the evening, she hadn’t dared to indulge. An empty stomach combined with her current state of extreme nervousness had suddenly triggered the pain.

Li Huaidong let go of her and helped her sit up from the bed.

“I’ll call the doctor—”

“No need.” Song Qingyu quickly stopped him. “I just need some hot water to ease it.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I’m not.”

As soon as Song Qingyu said she wasn’t hungry, her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl.

She hurriedly covered her belly, then, in the next instant, busied herself—tucking her hair behind her ear, adjusting the blanket, and darting her eyes around the room—perfectly embodying the universal instinct to feign distraction in moments of embarrassment.

Li Huaidong threw on his robe and got out of bed.

“I’ll have the kitchen make you a bowl of noodles.”

“No need. It’s so late—there’s no need to trouble them,” Song Qingyu said. Her father had been a chef, so she knew all too well how exhausting it was to be called in to cook in the middle of the night.

“The kitchen operates on a shift system. There’s staff on duty 24/7.”

Well then.

She had to admit—this was so like Li Huaidong. Even his kitchen staff functioned on a level far beyond that of an ordinary wealthy household.

The chef quickly prepared a bowl of noodles for Song Qingyu. It was likely a special request from Li Huaidong—light yet flavorful, perfectly portioned for someone mindful of their diet.

While she ate, Li Huaidong stood outside in the courtyard, smoking.

Dressed in a gray pajama set, he was a solitary figure against the deep night, his tall frame distinct yet unreadable. She couldn’t make out his expression, only the ember at his fingertips, glowing like a lone star in the darkness.

She had completely disrupted the night. Nothing had gone as planned. He was probably disappointed.

Setting down her chopsticks, Song Qingyu wiped her mouth and stepped out into the courtyard.

Hearing her approach, Li Huaidong turned to look at her.

“Finished eating?” He stubbed out his cigarette.

“Mm.”

“Does your stomach still hurt?”

“A little.”

“Go rest.”

Song Qingyu couldn’t tell if he still intended to continue what had been interrupted earlier. She hesitated, standing in place as she looked at him. “What about you?”

“I’m going to the study to handle some emails.”

A quiet breath of relief escaped her lips.

Li Huaidong caught that detail. Just as she was about to turn away, he reached out and grasped her wrist.

“Are you afraid of me?”

Her reaction tonight was completely different from that night at the hotel. Back then, she had been warm and eager, like a fire consuming his reason. But tonight, she was reserved and evasive. Every small gesture, every fleeting expression, spoke of her resistance.

Song Qingyu didn’t know how to answer.

She had always been afraid of him.

Before, it was because of everything she had heard from the Lu family—stories painting him as cold, ruthless, and unapproachable. Though their time together had softened that impression somewhat, Song Qingyu knew that Li Huaidong was like a vast iceberg. What she had seen so far was merely the tip he allowed her to see. In truth, even after sharing the most intimate of moments, he remained an enigma—distant and unreadable.

This fear was buried deep in her subconscious. When she was drunk, she could ignore it, let herself go. But when sober, she couldn’t.

Of course, the real barrier wasn’t just him—it was herself.

Her last marriage had left wounds too deep to fade. Now, faced with another uncertain relationship, she was terrified of making the same mistakes. Instinctively, she resisted him.

“Sorry for ruining the mood,” Song Qingyu said.

“You don’t need to apologize.” Li Huaidong met her gaze. “It may be a marital duty, but I won’t force you. Go to sleep.”

A warmth spread through her chest. “Thank you.”

With that, she slipped free from his grasp and quickly headed inside, making her way upstairs.

Li Huaidong remained where he was, watching her retreating figure before lighting another cigarette.

Uncle Kang, the butler, approached and draped a coat over his shoulders.

“Young Master, don’t catch a chill.”

“What happened while I was away on my business trip?” Li Huaidong asked.

“You mean Young Madam?”

“Mm.”

Uncle Kang wasn’t aware of the conversation that had taken place in the kitchen. After a moment of thought, he replied, “Nothing.”

Li Huaidong remained silent.

“Young Master, do you want me to discreetly ask Young Madam about it?”

“No need.”

They had only recently gotten their marriage certificate. Perhaps he had been too hasty. He should give her more time to adjust to being Mrs. Li.

**

For the next week, Li Huaidong was so busy that he was practically nowhere to be seen.

Song Qingyu was equally occupied. She and Guan Xinya were constantly attending social engagements and meeting with investors, but no matter how hard they tried, every opportunity ended in nothing.

Guan Xinya found the situation odd. After some digging, she discovered that the Lu family had put out word forbidding anyone from hiring Song Qingyu.

“They wouldn’t let you show your face when you were married, and now that you’re divorced, they’re still blocking your path. The Lu family is so petty it’s ridiculous,” Guan Xinya fumed.

“They’re just trying to get back at me,” Song Qingyu said.

Lu You’an had ended up in the police station because of her. The Lu family was still holding onto that grudge, and they weren’t about to let her have an easy time.

“Sorry, Sister Guan, I’ve wasted your efforts these past few days.”

“It’s fine. If the Lu family wants to play dirty, we’ll just keep pushing forward. I refuse to believe they can control everything.” Guan Xinya pulled a script from her drawer.

“You’ve heard of Director Fan Jiang, right? He’s preparing a historical suspense drama. The female lead is already set, but the second female lead is an outstanding role too. I went through a lot to get my hands on the first five episodes of the script. Take a look. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to meet Director Fan.

“He’s known in the industry for being stubborn as hell. No investor has ever dictated his casting decisions. If he likes you, the Lu family won’t be able to interfere, no matter how hard they try.”

Song Qingyu had always admired Director Fan Jiang. Upon hearing that she had a chance to work with him, her hope reignited.

That night, she meticulously studied the first five episodes of the script, even drafting her own analysis of the second female lead’s character. She knew there was no guarantee she would be chosen, but at the very least, she had to do her homework.

The next day, Song Qingyu accompanied Guan Xinya to Director Fan Jiang’s studio.

Only when they arrived did they realize that Shen Mengli was also auditioning for the same role.

It was Song Qingyu’s first time seeing Shen Mengli in person. Knowing that she was Li Huaidong’s first love, his untouchable white moonlight, Song Qingyu couldn’t help but take an extra look.

Both of them had classic oval-shaped faces, and their eyebrows and nose bridges bore a slight resemblance. From certain angles, they did look somewhat alike. But from the front, their features were distinct and easy to tell apart.

“Qingqing, this is Ms. Shen,” Guan Xinya introduced.

Song Qingyu understood Guan Xinya’s intention—since Shen Mengli was a senior in the entertainment industry, proper etiquette was necessary.

“Ms. Shen, nice to meet you,” Song Qingyu greeted politely.

Shen Mengli glanced at her. “So, you’re Song Qingyu?”

“Yes.”

Out of nowhere, Shen Mengli let out a mocking chuckle, then casually tilted her teacup—sending the entire contents splashing onto Song Qingyu’s face.

The tea wasn’t hot, but the sudden act still startled Song Qingyu, making her step back instinctively.

“What the hell are you doing?!” The once-cordial Guan Xinya instantly exploded. She grabbed some tissues to help Song Qingyu wipe her face while cursing furiously. “Shen Mengli, if you’re sick, go home and take your meds! Stop acting crazy in public, you lunatic!”

Shen Mengli’s manager, Coco Yang, wasn’t one to back down either.

“Oh wow, I was wondering who had the audacity to compete with our Mengli for this role. Turns out, it’s just a cheap knockoff trying to ride her coattails again!”

“Back when she debuted, she leeched off Mengli’s popularity every chance she got. And now, she actually thinks she can steal a role from the original? What a shameless joke!”

“Who the hell was leeching off your popularity? Qingqing worked hard every step of the way—every bit of success she achieved was through her own efforts! Unlike some people, who paid off marketing accounts to stir up hate and send mobs after her!” Guan Xinya shot back furiously. “If anyone here is shameless, it’s you lot!”

Hearing the commotion, Director Fan Jiang’s assistant rushed in to break up the argument.

“Please, everyone, calm down. Director Fan Jiang is about to arrive, and if he catches wind of this, neither Ms. Shen nor Ms. Song will have a shot at today’s audition. He absolutely despises actors stirring up drama.”

Shen Mengli, who had been watching the show with amusement, suddenly put on an air of indifference. “We weren’t arguing or fighting,” she said smoothly. “I simply knocked over my tea by accident, and unfortunately, it splashed onto Ms. Song. My apologies, Ms. Song.”

Her tone was light, insincere, as if she were merely playing along with a game.

Director Fan Jiang interviewed both Song Qingyu and Shen Mengli together.

Because of the tea incident, Song Qingyu’s makeup had been ruined, leaving her no choice but to go in barefaced. Unexpectedly, this worked in her favor—her natural look ended up impressing Director Fan.

Fan Jiang had always prioritized authenticity in his actors. Seeing Song Qingyu’s clean, makeup-free face, he nodded approvingly. “You have good features,” he remarked. “The role of the second female lead isn’t just about looking beautiful—it requires depth and raw emotion. Sometimes, heavy makeup gets in the way of that.”

Shen Mengli, who had come in meticulously styled, subtly clenched her fists. She had always been praised for her beauty, but at this moment, it felt like her carefully crafted appearance had lost to Song Qingyu’s effortless simplicity.

The audition officially began.

Shen Mengli, sensing that she was losing ground, suddenly spoke up.

“Director Fan, I heard that you and Huaidong are longtime friends?”

Fan Jiang glanced at her. “Miss Shen, you know Huaidong?”

Shen Mengli gave a shy smile. “Yes, we see each other often. Just the other day, we had dinner together, and he mentioned you. He said your films are always outstanding.”

Song Qingyu’s fingers tensed slightly.

So, Shen Mengli and Li Huaidong really did have a special relationship.

But if Li Huaidong liked Shen Mengli so much, why hadn’t he married her back then? They were both single at the time. Why had he gone out of his way to marry her instead—someone who merely resembled Shen Mengli and was even divorced?

Fan Jiang, though friends with Li Huaidong, disliked people using connections to sway his casting decisions.

“Do either of you know how to ride a horse?” Fan Jiang steered the conversation back to the audition.

“No,” Shen Mengli admitted.

“Neither of us can,” Song Qingyu and Shen Mengli admitted.

Fan Jiang nodded. “Alright then. I’ll give you both a week. Use that time to learn horseback riding. A week from now, we’ll assess your progress and see how you look in costume before making a final decision on who gets the role.”

It was a fair outcome—at least in Song Qingyu’s eyes. But as Shen Mengli and her agent left, their displeasure was evident.

“Two lunatics,” Guan Xinya scoffed. “Thinking they could just name-drop President Li and secure the role? Hilarious! Qingyu, this time, forget everything else—just focus on proving yourself. You have to outshine Shen Mengli!”

“Mm, I’ll do my best.”

Not for anything else—but for that cup of tea splashed on her face, she had to win.

The next day, Song Qingyu contacted an equestrian coach at Qiushan Club to begin horseback riding lessons.

Qiushan’s riding grounds were vast, and Song Qingyu found herself momentarily lost after stepping inside. Just as she was about to call her coach, she suddenly caught sight of a group of riders on the field—Li Huaidong and his friends.

Dressed in professional riding attire—black jacket, white breeches—Li Huaidong sat tall and poised, exuding an air of effortless elegance. He was astride a powerful chestnut horse, galloping at full speed ahead of the others. Under the sunlight, both rider and steed made for a striking sight.

Since their last awkward parting in bed, Li Huaidong hadn’t returned to Taoyuan for days.

Song Qingyu had no idea how many residences he owned outside, nor did she have any right to care. After all, her role as his wife was little more than a formality.

“Miss Song! Hello!”

A cheerful voice interrupted her thoughts. Coach Xiao Jiang approached her on horseback, waving enthusiastically.

“Coach Jiang, hello.”

Hearing Song Qingyu’s voice, Li Huaidong instinctively turned his head in her direction.

Song Qingyu pretended not to notice him and strode away.

“Miss Song, follow me. The beginner training area is in the back,” Coach Xiao Jiang said, dismounting to lead the way.

“Alright.”

Song Qingyu followed him toward the training area, but before they arrived, her phone rang.

It was Li Huaidong.

“Coach Jiang, give me a moment. I need to take this call.”

“Sure.”

Stepping aside, Song Qingyu answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Did you see me just now?” Li Huaidong asked.

“No.”

Li Huaidong let out a soft chuckle. “You didn’t even ask where I was before saying no. You’re terrible at lying.”

Song Qingyu remained stubborn. “Then where are you?”

“Right behind you.”

Song Qingyu turned around, and sure enough, Li Huaidong was standing right behind her.

He strode toward her, looking every bit like a knight straight out of a movie.

“President Li.” Coach Xiao Jiang spotted Li Huaidong and quickly ran over to greet him.

“You can go ahead with your work,” Li Huaidong said.

“What about Miss Song?”

“I’ll handle it.”

“Alright then.”

With that, Coach Xiao Jiang simply nodded and left.

“Wait, Coach Jiang! Don’t go!” Song Qingyu panicked and called after him. “If you leave, who’s going to teach me? I’m in a hurry to learn!”

“I will,” Li Huaidong said in a deep voice.

“You’re going to teach me?” Song Qingyu hesitated. “But I need to learn how to ride within a week.”

“Are you doubting my skills?”

Men never liked having their skills questioned—especially when it came to horseback riding.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” Song Qingyu quickly denied it. “I just mean… I have to come to the stables every day for the next week to practice. You’re so busy—you probably won’t have time.”

“That depends on who I’m making time for.”

Song Qingyu’s thoughts wavered.

What did he mean by that? Was he saying that if it was for her, he was willing?

“Let’s go.” Li Huaidong tilted his head slightly toward her. “I’ll take you to get changed.”

Without giving her a chance to refuse, he had already started leading the way.

“The locker room is at the back of the club,” Li Huaidong said as he led the way.

Song Qingyu had never ridden a horse before and had no idea how to pick out equestrian gear, so Li Huaidong selected everything for her.

Strangely enough, the jacket, pants, and riding boots he chose all fit her perfectly, as if they had been custom-made just for her.

“Are your eyes a measuring tape or something?” Song Qingyu joked after changing into the outfit.

“Does it fit?”

Li Huaidong glanced at her. The fitted black riding jacket, paired with a high-collared white shirt underneath, complemented her long legs wrapped in crisp white breeches. The black riding boots added a touch of sharpness and elegance, making her look both cool and striking.

“It fits perfectly,” she admitted. “How did you know my size?”

The wedding ring he had given her fit flawlessly. Now, the equestrian outfit he had chosen was just as precise.

It almost felt like Li Huaidong knew her body measurements better than she did.

“I measured you,” he replied.

“When did you measure me? How come I don’t know about it?” Song Qingyu blurted out instinctively.

Li Huaidong gave her a meaningful look.

In an instant, she understood.

So that’s what he meant—he knew her size because they had slept together.

Of course. That night, his hands had traced every inch of her body, his lips had claimed every corner of her skin. Even the deepest places she herself could barely reach bore his imprint.

What could there possibly be about her that he didn’t know?

“What horse am I riding?” Song Qingyu hurriedly changed the subject.

Li Huaidong patted the sleek brown stallion beside him. “This one.”

This horse, named Chasing Wind, was one Li Huaidong had bought for an exorbitant price. Not only was it incredibly fast, but it was also intelligent and highly spirited.

“Get on. I’ll take you for a lap first so you can get a feel for it.”

Li Huaidong placed his hands on Song Qingyu’s waist, steadying her as she stepped onto the stirrup and mounted the horse. Immediately after, he swung himself up as well.

Sharing a horse meant their bodies were pressed tightly together, with no space in between.

His embrace was scorching hot. Every muscle on his chest felt like heated iron—hard, burning, searing through the thin fabric of her riding clothes, spreading warmth from her back to every inch of her body.

Song Qingyu instinctively leaned forward a little, trying to create some distance.

Li Huaidong, however, pulled her right back into his arms.