Previous
Fiction Page
Next
Font Size:
Chapter 48: Will Kissing Little Clean-Freak After Smoking Make Her Cry?
System: “Each card is like your intuition, no weaker than Qin Mohuai. You two are equally matched.”
Xia Yuan’s lip twitched. “Stupid straight guy. If you can’t give a compliment, don’t try.”
System: “…”
she had never dealt with such a difficult host before! She even dared to argue with the system!
Wait a minute.
When Xia Yuan first bound with the system, she was actually quite polite. Now she had turned into this bossy person—all thanks to Qin Mohuai indulging her!
Sure, Xia Yuan had stolen Qin Mohuai’s heart, but Qin Mohuai was also invading hers in his own way. Who would be the ultimate winner in this love battle was yet to be determined.
Qin Mohuai stood outside smoking. His tall silhouette was as deep as the ocean, sharp, insightful, and respected. Few things could trouble him, but something weighed heavily on his mind tonight.
Butler Wang advised Xia Yuan, “Young Master hasn’t smoked at home in a long time. He must be dealing with something difficult. He’s like Master Qin Jiu—he enjoys solitude. If you approach him now, it’s like walking into the line of fire. Better wait until he’s in a better mood to talk.”
“I want to, but… I’m the one who upset him tonight.”
Butler Wang clicked his tongue. “Then you really shouldn’t go. The Young Master isn’t petty—he won’t really hold a grudge against you.”
Not petty?
Xia Yuan didn’t see it that way.
The only area where Qin Mohuai was generous was spending money on her without hesitation.
Other than that, he was stingy about everything.
If she replied late to his texts or calls, he’d lash out with harsh words, accusing her of chatting with some other guy. He’d even act pitiful to coax her into giving him more attention.
If she didn’t greet him or kiss him after work, he’d obsessively and seriously ask if she didn’t love him anymore or if she was tired of him—like a drama king.
When she tried to stay quiet in bed, biting her lip to keep from making a sound because she couldn’t stand the humiliation, Qin Mohuai would go crazy. He’d wrap his arms tightly around her waist and seductively coax her to make noise, demanding her voice to be sweeter, more seductive, more pleading. He was like the evil boss from a horror game, even grading her performance by her sounds!
Wait a second.
If he wasn’t satisfied, he’d either leave her waist sore or, worse, completely exhaust her, leaving her feeling half-dead.
Who knew what crazy idea Qin Mohuai would come up with after finishing that cigarette to torment her next. Xia Yuan wasn’t as optimistic as Butler Wang. She walked over to Qin Mohuai, holding her breath to avoid inhaling too much secondhand smoke.
She hadn’t always been so delicate. The ground floor of her old apartment building had many card rooms, where regulars loved to play mahjong and dominoes all night long. The owner was an older woman who couldn’t stay up all night anymore, so she’d sometimes hire Xia Yuan to watch the shop overnight, paying her eighty yuan a night.
The mahjong parlor was always filled with thick smoke, with no such thing as smoking restrictions or indoor bans. Xia Yuan had earned 7,000 yuan from that part-time job.
Xia Yuan didn’t hate secondhand smoke because it had helped her earn enough for her grandmother’s medical expenses. She felt her life wasn’t worth much, and whether she died sooner or later made little difference.
But now, Qin Mohuai had spoiled her into a clean freak, as delicate as a noble lady.
Xia Yuan: “It’s getting late.”
Qin Mohuai remained silent, continuing to smoke. He knew Xia Yuan hated the smell of cigarettes. He wondered if kissing her now would make her cry.
Suddenly, Xia Yuan kicked off her slippers. Her pale, smooth toes, tinged with a soft pink like flower petals, rested on the cold, hard marble floor.
Was she teasing an inanimate object? How come it was getting the same treatment as him!
Qin Mohuai exhaled smoke through his lungs, letting out a dissatisfied grunt. His sharp, almond-shaped eyes narrowed as he glanced downward, asking bluntly, “Why did you kick off your shoes?”
Her little tricks were becoming more and more sophisticated, all designed to grab his attention.
Xia Yuan lifted her fair face, her cat-like eyes delicate, but her voice was soft and earnest. “I’m not a very good girlfriend. You’ve spoiled me and I live a good life, I’m not getting hungry even getting thirst. I shouldn’t be complaining about you smelling like smoke or alcohol. Whatever you smell like, I love it.”
Her words sounded nice enough, but there was a faint trace of sarcasm.
“I’ve only been thinking about my own feelings, not paying attention to how much you pamper me. Next time, I’ll make sure to be more considerate!”
A cold laugh slipped from Qin Mohuai’s lips. He crushed the burning cigarette and, with veins bulging along his forearms, lifted her effortlessly. His voice was icy. “Dare to mock me? Seems like you’ve grown some nerve. Has no one ever told you what happens when you offend me?”
If it weren’t for the fact that her affection score hadn’t dropped, I’d believe your nonsense!
Xia Yuan trembled slightly in his burning grip, her pale, delicate face tinged with an inappropriate blush, looking every bit like a pampered little troublemaker he had nurtured.
“So, how are you going to punish me? Lock me up in the bedroom or the basement?” Her eyes sparkled with anticipation.
Qin Mohuai chuckled angrily. “You wish!”
When he first brought her back to Shenghai Mansion, he was worried she wouldn’t adjust to the life of being kept by someone. So, he brought in a psychologist to explain things to her.
Qin Mohuai had severe psychological issues—intense control and possessive tendencies, along with addiction and skin hunger, making him overly dependent on her. Keeping her at Shenghai Manor wasn’t because he was a complete pervert; he had no other choice. Otherwise, his lack of security would make him volatile and easily angered.
Xia Yuan agreed to everything at the time, but Qin Mohuai and the psychologist both felt she didn’t grasp the gravity of the situation. To be safe, the psychologist stayed at the manor for a month, just in case Xia Yuan had a mental breakdown.
But by the end, it was the psychologist who almost had a breakdown, while Xia Yuan adjusted just fine.
Before leaving, the psychologist told Qin Mohuai, “She was probably a neglected little deity in her past life. That’s why she needs your devotion so much in this one.”
Qin Mohuai put her down and said, “Go put on your shoes. You’ve become so shameless, I’ve spoiled you into a little rascal. It’s embarrassing to admit how poorly I’ve ‘trained’ you as a wife.”
Xia Yuan put her shoes back on and returned to his side. She pulled out a stack of French cursive cards from her pocket. “I didn’t throw them away. Don’t be mad anymore. It’s not worth it to get sick over a little rascal like me. Your French cursive is beautiful, even though I don’t know what it says, but I’ll translate it after we get past the seven-year itch!”
“Seven years from now, I’ll be sitting by a window, shaded by trees, in a not-so-fashionable but comfortable nightgown. I probably won’t be as young anymore, and these cards will have turned yellow with time. You’ll read them to me, won’t you?”
Except by then, when you speak French, I won’t be in this world to hear it.
Qin Mohuai liked the picture she painted, his thin lips curling up as he added, “We might even have one or two kids by then. But the love notes on those cards are too mushy—I won’t let them hear it.”
“Baby, let’s go get our marriage certificate tomorrow.”
Xia Yuan was caught off guard by the sudden shift. She stammered, “Aren’t you still mad at me?”
Qin Mohuai: “Even if I’m mad, what can I do about it? You haven’t let me touch you all week.”
He had no choice but to forgive her a little.
The next day, Xia Yuan was drowsily sleeping in Qin Mohuai’s arms. He was halfway through dressing her, kneeling on one knee on the bed, kissing her from head to toe. Half-asleep, Xia Yuan didn’t realize what was happening. After being teased for a bit, she was carried to the bathroom to wash her hands and feet, finally waking up a little.
“Why do my wrists feel so sore?”
Previous
Fiction Page
Next