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Ouyang Jing didn’t want to call Old Master Qin.
The more you take from someone, the more you owe them. If she accepted that white Mini Maybach, she’d have no choice but to bear a child for Qin Mohuai, becoming nothing more than a tool for the Qin family’s lineage.
This went against everything she had been taught growing up about independence and self-respect.
“Cien, I will stand on my own in the entertainment industry, and I’ll earn enough to buy my own Maybach.”
Song Cien shrugged. “Alright then.”
But their conversation didn’t escape the ears of a few gossipmongers, and soon it started spreading.
Yang Ying, who was attending the opening gala for the luxury car club with her brother, overheard this ‘rumor’ while posing next to a pink Ferrari.
So, the white Mini Maybach was meant for Ouyang Jing?
Did Xia Yuan know about this?
Leaning against the second-floor railing, Yang Ying snapped a few pictures of the white Mini Maybach from above and posted them on her social media.
[Rumor has it that the custom Maybach modified by the Qin heir and Pei Jinchen is a gift for his fiancée?]
At Shenghai Mansion.
Xia Yuan slowly opened her eyes and gazed out the window. The golden light shimmered over the greenery, casting dappled shadows as time seemed to slip by like a quiet stream. She had slept until five in the afternoon.
After last night, the love meter of the “crazy” male lead had risen to 90. So close to success, yet still just out of reach. The closer she got to the end, the harder it was to fully capture the heart of the madly obsessive Qin Mohuai.
Despite his domineering nature, Qin Mohuai had a strong protective instinct. She could do whatever she wanted, from playfully annoying him to sitting on his shoulders while climbing up to the attic.
But she had to follow his lead in every other aspect of life. What she wore, ate, and how she lived—all required his approval. Sometimes his overbearing masculinity was overwhelming, but Xia Yuan didn’t mind. It was a reflection of her personality and upbringing.
Having lost her parents early, all of Xia Yuan’s relationships had been unstable. Teachers and friends were transient figures in her life. Her ex-boyfriend was a scumbag, and her aging grandmother needed constant care from her.
In Xia Yuan’s life, there had never been anyone willing to catch her when she fell or take responsibility for her. She desperately needed a safe harbor, a place to anchor her drifting soul.
But, unfortunately, it was all a lie.
Butler Wang entered the room. “Miss, you’re awake. Are you hungry? Would you like a little something to eat? Dinner will be in an hour.”
Xia Yuan shook her head. “I set an alarm, but it didn’t go off. I planned to learn how to bake a cake with the chef, but now it’s too late.”
Butler Wang’s eyes lit up. “The young master’s birthday is coming up. Are you planning to bake him a cake for the occasion?”
Xia Yuan nodded. “Yes, but you must help me keep it a secret. I want to surprise him.”
The butler smiled warmly. “Of course, no problem.”
Xia Yuan returned upstairs and curled up in a lounge chair, waiting for Qin Mohuai to return for dinner.
Her fair, porcelain-like skin almost glowed under the sunlight, and her slender fingers lazily scrolled through baking tutorials on her phone. Her sleepy, cat-like eyes seemed devoid of energy—learning to bake a cake was proving much harder than expected.
Her maid, Xiao Jing, who had a good relationship with Xia Yuan, leaned in to chat. “Miss, I thought you’d stay at the villa a few more days.”
Xiao Jing had noticed the marks under Xia Yuan’s collarbone. The young master certainly wasn’t one to hold back when it came to his affections.
Xia Yuan responded, “This house is livelier, filled with more people and warmth. Staying alone in the villa is too cold and lonely.”
Of course, that was just her polite, diplomatic excuse.
The real reason was…
At Shenhai Mansion, there were too many people around. Even Qin Mohuai, with his lofty status, had to maintain his dignity in front of others and couldn’t act recklessly.
Living in the villa, however, was a true loss of dignity for Xia Yuan. Dressed in a silk nightgown that barely covered anything, she’d be carried to the dining room to eat, forced to sit on Qin Mohuai’s lap. Resisting the tyrant was futile and only made him more excited.
Though her body couldn’t handle any more rough treatment, and unless Qin Mohuai wanted her dead, he usually wouldn’t push too far, Xia Yuan was still always on edge, fearing that he might do something impulsive. While eating, she’d worry about being “eaten,” always tense about what Qin Mohuai’s next move might be, nervously anticipating him slipping a hand under her dress or down her neckline.
So, she developed a simple strategy: take the initiative. She’d kiss the brooding, dangerous man with a smile, a gesture of appeasement, albeit slightly submissive.
During her conversation with Xiao Jing, Xia Yuan opened her WeChat and stumbled across Yang Ying’s social media post. She occasionally checked Yang Ying’s updates, thinking that if she found out Yang Ying was dating her gym coach, she might be able to stop her from being manipulated by that opportunistic man.
But instead of catching gossip about her, Xia Yuan discovered that trouble was brewing in her own backyard.
Qin Mohuai was giving Ouyang Jing a Maybach?
Her first reaction wasn’t anger but realization. When she’d mentioned wanting a white Mini Maybach, even she had found it strange. After all, she didn’t care much about luxury cars. Even as a top songwriter in the industry, she only drove a simple Volkswagen.
Now it made sense—her desire for a Maybach must have come from Ouyang Jing.
In the original novel, Ouyang Jing wanted a white Mini Maybach but refused to accept it from Qin Mohuai, determined to earn it herself. Her perseverance left a deep impression on Qin Mohuai, and surprisingly, he didn’t force the car on her. In fact, by the end of the story, Ouyang Jing had still never driven a Maybach.
Xia Yuan didn’t mind; Qin Mohuai was a man with his own plans, and she couldn’t control whom he gifted cars to. If he gave it to Ouyang Jing, even better—it would give her an excuse to act jealous and say the sweet, clingy things Qin Mohuai loved to hear. Maybe it would even boost his affection for her.
Before dinner, Qin Mohuai returned home. Xia Yuan went to greet him at the entrance but stopped a meter away, covering her nose with her delicate hand, her teasing eyes like those of a picky cat. “You stink. Go take a shower first.”
Qin Mohuai raised an eyebrow, his smile dark and elegant, as he casually suggested, “Kiss me first.”
Already catching the soft, sweet scent on his wife, Qin Mohuai was like a starving dog who had finally found a bone—he wouldn’t give up easily.
Xia Yuan quickly gave him a peck on the lips, making sure it was brief and that no other part of her body touched his.
Qin Mohuai clicked his tongue, but as he had personally spoiled her into this germophobic behavior, he had no choice but to continue indulging her.
After dinner, Qin Mohuai handed Xia Yuan a set of keys. “I wanted to surprise you, but since you didn’t come to the gala with me, I brought the car home. Go take a look in the garage.”
Xia Yuan’s eyelashes fluttered, feeling that the keys were burning her hand. “I was only joking.”
Qin Mohuai replied, “Babe, I just wanted to give you a gift. Whether or not you want it doesn’t really matter to me. If you don’t like it, just treat it as a collector’s item and keep it out of sight.”
A flash of inspiration struck Xia Yuan. “What if I want to earn enough money to buy a Maybach myself?”
Since the crazy male lead admired a strong-willed heroine, would showing some resilience boost his affection for her?
Qin Mohuai pinched the bridge of his tall nose, a rare moment of exasperation flashing across his usually composed face. “Even if I died, I’d leave you enough money so you’d never have to suffer.”
“And could you really handle hardship? You’re too lazy to even lift your hips in bed. What could I possibly expect from you?”