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n“Nothing.” He Lei shook his head. “I asked the young mistress what she wanted to eat today. I was just about to head off.”

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nTang Qiu reinforced his words with a nod. “What do you want to eat, dear?”

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n“It doesn’t matter,” Jiang Shaocheng said coldly. How did she expect him to have an appetite, with the fury broiling inside him? His little wife was really something–dating Ning Mufan behind his back, and now exchanging whispers with his aide in secret.

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n“I’ll make you a few different dishes, then,” she said appeasingly. “I’ll give you a list of groceries, He Lei.” The aide obliged.

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nJiang Shaocheng stifled an icy laugh. Making alliances, now, are we? He wheeled himself into the house without saying a word.

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nOnly after he had gone did He Lei relax. “If you don’t… persuade him like I told you, Young Mistress, it won’t bode well for either of us in the future.” He had served Jiang Shaocheng for many years and he knew that if his young master’s fury wasn’t mollified, it could well simmer for years on end–until it came back to bite whichever poor soul had incurred his wrath.

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n“I’ll try.” Tang Qiu couldn’t keep the dread from her voice.

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n“You have to,” he insisted, in a manner that somehow managed to be encouraging. “You enraged him, now you need to take responsibility.”

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nTang Qiu exhaled in resignation. Every footstep that carried her into the house felt like it was weighed down by lead. She approached her husband, sitting on the sofa, as she would a tiger. “Do you want some fruits, dear?” she asked cautiously. I can get some for you.”

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nJiang Shaocheng lifted his gaze to her. “Tell me: what exactly is your relationship with Ning Mufan?”

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nTang Qiu forced herself not to look away. “I was being bullied by someone in school,” she explained. “She poured coke into my food and even accused me of sleeping around for money. Ning Mufan said I was his girlfriend to protect my reputation. We were… we were afraid that if we allowed that woman to slander me, my teachers would hear of it and refuse to give me a scholarship…”

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n“How much is that scholarship worth?”

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n“Five thousand yuan.” Tang Qiu’s voice grew quieter, the full extent of her guilt sinking down on her.

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n“So you let him claim that you were his girlfriend, all for a little money?” Jiang Shaocheng’s anger boiled to the surface; he nearly abandoned his charade right then just so he could stand up and spank her. How could she be so foolish? Selling herself for that pathetic sum?

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n“I was wrong!”

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n“Oh?” He quivered with the effort of restraining his rage. “How so?”

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n“I let him call himself my boyfriend,” she mumbled.

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n“That’s it?” he shouted. Her words grated against his ears, a reminder that that man had dared to claim his wife for his own.

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nTang Qiu shriveled up in terror. It was a habit that had been beaten into her in the Feng household–making herself smaller, as if to shield her from a wrath she had no hope of defending herself against. “I was wrong,” she echoed. “I shouldn’t have used my senior to protect me. I’ll stay away from him in the future. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

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nJiang Shaocheng watched her cringe away from him. His jaw clenched. Look at her, acting all delicate, when she was clearly bold enough to go behind his back. “Come here,” he commanded.

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n“I…” Tang Qiu flinched back even further, seeing that her ploy had been discovered. Heart racing, she recalled what He Lei had said. She had to find a way to catch him off-guard with a kiss. But how?

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n“You’re my wife, Qiu.” Jiang Shaocheng made himself take even breaths. “That means you have to keep your distance from other men. Do you understand?”

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n“Yes. I understand.” She clenched her fists, clawing up every shred of courage in her–only for it to whittle away when she met his eyes.

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nHer fear of him only deepened Jiang Shaocheng’s anger. “Get Ning Mufan on the phone and tell him you’re someone’s wife,” he demanded.

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nTang Qiu didn’t move. “He already knows I’m married.” She risked a glance at him. “He… he wanted me to get a divorce.”

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n“A divorce?” The fury in his voice–like the crack of a whip–sent a shiver down her spine. Her husband was truly terrifying when he was angry. If she were to take off her clothes, would he throw her out, heedless?

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n“I refused. I told him no.”

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n“It’s not your decision to make alone. Didn’t you hear what I said to my family earlier?” His temples pulsed.

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n“Well…” The conversation had been so heated, she didn’t know which part of it he was referring to.

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nHer husband’s hand snaked out, yanking her onto his lap. “Don’t you remember what I said when they told me to divorce you?” His grip tightened around her waist. “‘Over my dead body’.”

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nTang Qiu was startled by his strength–but even more so by his words. Her hand flew to her mouth.

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