Chapter 110: A Wish Fulfilled, Madam Left You a Note

Xia Yuan wanted to go back to Shenghai Mansion with Zhenbao, her soft lips parting as she struggled to say, “Let’s go home together.”

No one dared to agree.

Qin Wu, seated in the driver’s seat, was sweating profusely. It was clear to everyone how much the master cared for his wife—who would dare take her away without permission?

“Madam, please just say a word to the master. Only then will I feel safe to drive you back,” he said cautiously.

Xia Yuan huffed, “You stink.”

Standing in the hazy light, she held her head high, revealing her delicate neck—a mix of petulance and defiance.

Su Yingxue chuckled.

Although Xia Yuan was practically imprisoned by Qin Mohuai, she still displayed her spirited personality, bold enough to speak her mind.

The man she’d called “stinky” drew closer, wrapping his arm around her slender waist, asserting his claim with a confidence that radiated through his posture.

“Xia Yuan will stay at the old residence tonight. Zhenbao will go back to Shenghai Mansion with Qin Wu. We’ll return tomorrow afternoon,” he stated firmly.

Zhenbao obediently got into the car, his chubby cheeks pressed against the window, dramatically sniffing like a puppy being given away, which made him all the more adorable.

Xia Yuan’s loving gaze followed him closely.

Qin Mohuai raised an eyebrow; it seemed his son wasn’t usually this dramatic.

“Sweetheart, if you’re impressed by Zhenbao’s acting skills, he’ll keep performing for you.”

“You stink to death.”

Xia Yuan rolled her eyes, not joining him in criticizing Zhenbao.

Her obedient child had just claimed he would think of her throughout the car ride home. How could she speak ill of him behind his back?

Qin Mohuai lifted his arm and inhaled the lingering smell of smoke on his suit. Over the past three years, he had grown accustomed to the scent of nicotine, forgetting just how delicate the woman in his arms was.

“I’ll be talking to Grandpa for a while. I’ll freshen up before heading to the bedroom. If you get tired, go to bed early. Don’t run around with Su Yingxue; if your feet hurt, don’t come looking for me to rub them.”

His voice was rich and soothing, tinged with a hint of the possessiveness typical of a Scorpio, hitting just the right note with Xia Yuan. She smiled coyly and rose onto her toes to plant a kiss on the corner of his lips.

When it came to expressing affection, the shy and obedient Xia Yuan was like a relic from a bygone era—she would never admit to Qin Mohuai that she loved his assertiveness and his little flaws.

After watching Qin Mohuai leave, Su Yingxue immediately took Xia Yuan to see the koi she kept in the pond at the Qin estate.

“Wow, they’ve grown so big!”

“They were only the size of my palm back then—so tiny and cute! Now they look a bit scary at night.”

“Why not make some sweet and sour fish?”

Xia Yuan had no objections and typed a message to Su Yingxue.

[Are you planning to return to the music scene?]

With the confidence that came from her privileged upbringing, Su Yingxue’s eyes sparkled. “My main account is gone, but I can relaunch under ‘Little Su Yingxue.’ Once my cool new prosthetic eye is ready, I’ll be back on stage. No matter which world it is, I want to be the best version of myself, not just the best Jingye wife.”

[Maybe we can collaborate!]

Su Yingxue beamed, “Definitely! You’re the golden lyricist, and I’m the little diva—a perfect duo that’s bound to shake up the entertainment industry! But will Qin Mohuai let you work? He seems more clingy than Qin Jingye.”

[I can be persistent; he’ll agree!]

Once back in her room, Xia Yuan took a shower, hastily dried her hair, and grabbed her iPad to write lyrics.

When she was in a good mood, she could write a song in as little as ten minutes or stretch it out to three days, but she was certain she would produce something.

Half an hour passed.

Not a single word appeared on the iPad.

Xia Yuan’s expression darkened, her thoughts turning chaotic. Why couldn’t she write anything?

With the fatigue of her late pregnancy and a string of recent events, she realized she hadn’t picked up a pen in nearly a year.

Maybe it was due to a lack of fresh inspiration, leading to this creative block; she consoled herself with thoughts like these, even as her fingers trembled slightly.

What she took pride in had never been her appearance, but rather her unique spirit and talent.

 Study

Today, Old Master Qin was feeling faint, having lost some of his vitality. He slumped into a comfortable position in the black Italian leather chair, reminiscent of a godfather.

“I know what you’re going to say. Your Ninth Uncle has already explained it clearly—those two aren’t ghosts. It was just my misunderstanding,” he said.

“Now that Xia Yuan is back, there’s no need for me to arrange a marriage for you. I see that her health isn’t very strong, so you’d better take good care of her. If she can have another child, that would be great,” he added.

Qin Mohuai didn’t respond but shot his grandfather a look that clearly said, “Mind your own business.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll take her to Qingshan Temple to repay my vows. I’m not sure if the deities will lend a hand, but it’s worth the trip to pray for her to have a long and worry-free life.”

—

Qin Mohuai remembered that Xia Yuan liked the vegetarian meals at Qingshan Temple. After breakfast, they set off early to catch the lunch crowd.

Once in the Maybach, Xia Yuan pulled out an essay by a British author that she had started reading the previous night.

Qin Mohuai couldn’t help but comment, “I read this essay in high school.”

Xia Yuan nodded.

It was fascinating how the histories and literatures of two worlds had similarities and differences.

Qin Mohuai tried to get her attention again, “This essay isn’t the best. Do you enjoy reading this kind of book? I can help you pick out some more when we get home.”

“Sounds good,” she replied, offering a perfunctory smile as she returned to her reading.

Qin Mohuai ruffled her hair, noting that the texture wasn’t as soft as before. He resolved to take better care of her hair.

The Maybach stopped at the foot of the mountain. There were 369 steps leading up to Qingshan Temple, and they had to walk.

Once out of the car, Xia Yuan was drawn to the fans held by two little girls, who were staring at her in astonishment.

The image of a woman on the fans was strikingly similar to her—Xia Yuan in person looked even more radiant than in the drawing. The only differences were that she wasn’t wearing her pink qipao today, nor was she adorned with the jade prayer beads.

“Someone painted me on a fan! I want to buy one,” Xia Yuan exclaimed.

Qin Mohuai raised an eyebrow, pleased to see her spirits lifting.

He bought her a fan and shot Qin Qi a look, making it clear that no one else was to sell those fans.

As they ascended the steps, they offered their respects to the deities at Qingshan Temple.

“I’m taking you to eat vegetarian dishes. The menu has changed a bit, but your favorites—vegetarian roasted duck, red plum shrimp, and stir-fried vegetables—are still available,” he said.

Yesterday, Old Master Qin mentioned that he frequently came to Qingshan Temple to pray, and even if he hadn’t said it, Xia Yuan knew what he was praying for.

Qin Mohuai was clear-headed, defiant, and exceptionally clever. He never believed in deities; one would have to be truly desperate to pray to the gods.

“Sweetheart, even if the vegetarian dishes are delicious, there’s no need to cry over them.”

“I’m not crying; I just feel a bit sorry for the Qin Mohuai who has waited for me alone for three years.”

“It’s all in the past now. You’re only allowed to feel sorry for me, not for him.”

“…”

After finishing their meal, a sudden rain began to fall, quickly turning into a downpour that hammered against the eaves and the ground.

They wouldn’t be leaving Qingshan Temple anytime soon.

Since Qin Mohuai visited often and had donated a considerable sum for the incense money, he had access to a resting area at the temple.

On the way to the small courtyard, he held an umbrella over them and draped his suit jacket over Xia Yuan, but her dress still got wet due to the heavy rain.

Once inside, Xia Yuan removed her dress, revealing her fair and exquisite figure, clad only in the pink bra that Qin Mohuai had put on her.

Qin Mohuai’s throat went dry, filled with thoughts that were far from innocent. He suppressed his rising desire and changed into a clean shirt, giving her his.

“I’ve already messaged Uncle Wang. He’ll bring some clothes and toiletries over when the rain eases up,” he assured her.

Xia Yuan let out a playful hum and wrapped her arms around his sturdy waist, her fingers teasingly grazing his abs and muscles, making her intentions clear.

Qin Mohuai found it hard to resist her, and with a rush of heat filling his cheeks, he fell onto the bed with her.

“Sweetheart, you’re so good… you’re the sweetest today… just a little more… I’d give my life for you…”

Qin Mohuai felt like he was drowning in her tender affection.

As the rain gradually lightened, the handsome man lay on the bed, his face serene, seemingly lost in a beautiful dream.

A few minutes later, he woke up.

“Sir, I’ve brought the clothes and toiletries,” Uncle Wang said.

“Where’s Xia Yuan?”

“Madam has already left, saying she wanted to stay at Yunxiang Mansion for a few days. Here’s a note she left for you.” Uncle Wang repeated the contents of the note.

[Sorry, I want to be alone for a few days. I can’t write lyrics—none at all. Without inspiration and talent, I’m just a pretty face; no one would like me.]

Qin Mohuai took the note, a dark smile creeping across his face, his anger palpable.

“Damn it, I see how it is. A game of cat and mouse, huh? Fine, I’ll play along!”