Chapter 15 – A Table Full of Deer Antler, Strengthening the Body

[New Group Chat: Wanna Be the Boss’s Secretaries (11)]

Gina: New group, people. That passive-aggressive tone earlier was driving me nuts.

Gina: Anyone who can’t complain about Capitalism with me—OUT of the chat!

Leo: 👍 (thumbs up.jpg)

Leo: Since when did our secretary office offend HR?

Leo: That intern secretary—she still can’t use the photocopier zoom function after I taught her five times. Did she study abroad just for the sightseeing?

Cloe: 666, I can’t believe she even got hired. 🤯

Gina: None of you are as miserable as me. At the upcoming summit, I’ve been assigned to mentor her.

Zach: Respect to you, warrior. 🙇🙇

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At the Bamboo Lodge, Qin Yushen returned just after dusk.

Servants laid dish after dish onto the table. He looked at the spread in silence.

On one side—two medicinal meals plus one dish drowning in chili peppers. Clearly Shuhui’s taste; he’d investigated before—people from Dongcheng adored spicy food.

On another side—tiny portions of children’s food, meant for Qin Suining.

That left the other half of the table…

Strange, dubious dishes.

Whose were they supposed to be?

“What are you standing there for? Sit down and eat.” Shuhui walked in right behind him, puzzled at his frozen stance.

Then she glanced at the table and almost burst out laughing, lips pressed tight to hold it back.

Nanny Liu strapped Suining into her chair, smiling. “Young Master, Young Madam, please sit.”

Then she began introducing enthusiastically: “Here we have bull penis soup, ginseng and deer antler congee, garlic oysters, and braised soft-shell turtle—”

Shuhui couldn’t hold it anymore and laughed outright. Nanny Liu really had gone above and beyond.

Qin Yushen’s face darkened. He gave Shuhui a meaningful glance. “So you’re that dissatisfied with me.”

Sensing danger, Liu Ma shrank her neck and cut off her introduction.

The eldest young master was known for being cold and unpredictable. Only because the Young Madam had treated her kindly lately had she forgotten herself and dared to touch his sore spot.

Now regret chilled her spine.

Shuhui disliked his constant cold face—it scared people and ruined the mood.

So she shoved him lightly. “Don’t glare at me! It wasn’t me, it was your mother who sent all this.”

He still didn’t respond.

She pushed him again. “Come on, eat. Smells amazing! Don’t waste your mom’s good intentions.”

“You’re being crude again,” he said coolly.

“…”

She forced a smile, resisting the urge to smack him.

“Fine. My apologies. Please, do not waste your mother’s thoughtful gesture. Is that better?”

“…Mn.”

If she pushed him a few more times, his shoulders would end up uneven.

“How do we even eat this stuff?” he muttered.

“…Have Nanny Liu explain,” Shuhui replied.

Relief flooded Liu Ma’s face as she lifted her head again. So the true master of Bamboo Lodge… was the Young Madam!

---

After dinner, Qin Yushen took Suining for a walk. Shuhui lagged behind and was stopped by Liu Ma’s hesitant expression.

“Something to say?” Shuhui asked gently.

Liu Ma tapped her temple, then confessed:
“Young Madam, I feel something’s off. When we checked the supplements earlier, I noticed—one old ginseng, three nests of bird’s nest, one deer antler, one bull penis… All in odd numbers.

Back home, our custom is gifts should always be in pairs—good things come in twos.”

She glanced around nervously and lowered her voice. “But the live poultry and seafood were all even numbers. Could it be… one of the servants here in Bamboo Lodge skimmed some off the top?”

Shuhui smiled knowingly. Yes, someone was pilfering—but not from Bamboo Lodge.

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That night, autumn wind whistled outside, while warmth filled the master bedroom.

No TV tonight. Instead—bedtime story.

Suining climbed onto the big bed with her fairy tale book, hopping beside her father. “Daddy, read!”

Shuhui was still in the bathroom, immersed in her meticulous beauty routine. She’d be a while.

Suining couldn’t wait. She shoved the book into her father’s lap and snuggled down beside him.

The book was mostly colorful illustrations, with very little text.

So the parent’s delivery—tone, rhythm, embellishments—was everything. Otherwise, the story would fall flat.

Like Qin Yushen…

“Mother Pig had three children—Eldest, Second, and Third… The eldest built a straw house. The hungry wolf blew and blew…”

Before the story was half done, Suining was fast asleep—getting her first taste of “dozing off in class.”

Shuhui emerged from the bathroom and paused at the sight. Normally the little girl pestered her with endless questions at story time. But today, sound asleep.

“Good job,” she praised casually.

Walking over, she saw him shift Suining to his right side.

She froze, arms crossed. “What are you doing? You want the middle spot? You’re even more childish than Ningning.”

Question after question fired out.

“…You’ll crush her if you sleep beside her,” he said flatly.

“Impossible,” Shuhui shot back—though her eyes flickered with a hint of guilt.

“Anyway, that’s not it. You just want the middle spot and made up an excuse. Shameless.”

“….”

She turned off the lights and lay down deliberately close to the edge, leaving a gap between them—guarding her dignity.

Time passed. Qin Yushen lay still. Then—smack! Her hand flopped onto his neck.

His Adam’s apple throbbed painfully. He coughed, but quickly stifled it so as not to wake them.

Peeling her hand away, he finally breathed normally.

That was close. Nearly died in bed.

But soon she rolled against him again, octopus-like, arms and legs tangled around him.

So much for the tonics—clearly effective. He silently recited every Buddhist scripture he knew before finally drifting off.

By morning, he got up for work early. Before leaving, he stuffed a pillow into her arms to keep her from smothering Suining in her sleep.

And so the days passed. Every night, the three of them shared one bed. Qin Yushen grew used to falling asleep in a state of mild suffocation.

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November 6th.

The five-day International Business Summit kicked off in Hong Kong—unstoppable, grand, and bustling.

The summit’s real industry insights and discussions peaked on the third day.

But for networking, the most crucial event was the opening-night banquet.

An unwritten rule: bring your spouse or partner. It fostered a harmonious, convivial atmosphere.

For married CEOs, it signaled stability in both family and career.

For young entrepreneurs, a beautiful and smart partner doubled their presence in social negotiations.

For female CEOs—likewise, a handsome companion.

Shuhui fell squarely into the first category. Countless eyes would be watching the Qin family.

She had to attend—to reaffirm the stability of this much-gossiped marriage.

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At the Bamboo Lodge’s dressing room—

Stylists and makeup artists bustled around Shuhui.

Her mind drifted. In her previous life, she had attended this very same banquet.

The Qin patriarch had insisted, telling her all she needed to do was look dignified, smile politely, and say little.

She had agreed. She was never one to fear the spotlight. Yet that night, she trembled uncontrollably. She spilled red wine on her dress, then got locked in the dressing room while changing.

It wasn’t until the banquet was nearly over that Qin Yushen’s secretary found her.