Volume One, Chapter 18: Not as Frail and Incompetent as She Appears

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Song Qinian was dragged by Shen Chiyan from the bathroom onto the bed, completely unable to resist. Outside, rain had begun to fall at some unknown moment. Amid the soft patter of rain, Song Qinian was utterly consumed by the pain and pleasure Shen Chiyan inflicted upon her.

The next morning, Song Qinian woke up late, the sun already high in the sky. Seeing that she was in Shen Chiyan’s bedroom, she was startled and immediately sat up. The movement aggravated her wounds, causing her to grit her teeth against the pain. Her body bore marks left by Shen Chiyan, even worse than the day before.

Shen Chiyan was no longer there, and Song Qinian dared not stay in his room any longer. But her clothes had been torn to shreds by him, leaving nothing wearable. With no other choice, she rummaged through Shen Chiyan’s wardrobe, found a shirt, and slipped it on. Then, she quietly opened the door, trying to leave unnoticed.

Just as she reached for the doorknob, someone pushed the door open. Seeing it was Shen Chiyan, her body stiffened and she instinctively stepped back a few paces. Noticing her reaction as if she had seen a monster, Shen Chiyan frowned slightly. Then his gaze fell on the shirt she was wearing—his shirt.

For Song Qinian, Shen Chiyan’s shirt was long enough to be a dress. In her haste to escape, she had buttoned it up haphazardly, with the top two buttons left undone. Shen Chiyan immediately saw the marks on her neck—where he had bitten her fiercely the night before.

Thinking of last night, Shen Chiyan was irritated to find his body responding involuntarily. Though Song Qinian was petite, her legs were fair, straight, and slender. Even mostly covered by the white shirt, they still stirred his imagination.

He smirked and chuckled softly, “Dressing like this so early in the morning—who are you trying to seduce?”

Song Qinian never expected that, at this late hour, Shen Chiyan hadn’t gone to work yet. Memories of last night filled her with even more fear. Seeing her trembling with fright, Shen Chiyan grew inexplicably annoyed. “What are you standing there for? Get out of here!”

Surprised that he would let her go so easily, Song Qinian thought: she had slept in his bed last night, and he was a germaphobe—how could he tolerate that? No matter, better to slip away quickly!

She hurried out of Shen Chiyan’s bedroom with such speed as if fearing he might change his mind the next second.

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Standing at the basement door, Song Qinian felt utterly dejected. She had originally lived in the basement, but now her bed and desk were strewn with all sorts of clutter, and large items were placed on the floor.

Could these things have been placed there by Zhang Qiaoqiao on Shen Chiyan’s orders? So the truth was, Shen Chiyan wasn’t avoiding confronting her this morning—he was trying to evict her from the villa.

Just as Song Qinian felt lost and distressed, Zhang Qiaoqiao arrived. “Young madam, are you looking for something?”

Song Qinian shook her head, her eyes filled with sorrow and her delicate face marked with grievance.

Zhang Qiaoqiao suddenly realized something and smiled warmly. “The basement is damp and lacks sunlight, which isn't good for your health. The young master has arranged for you to live in the guest room on the second floor from now on.”

At first, Song Qinian felt a flicker of joy—good, Shen Chiyan didn’t intend to throw her out after all. But the next moment, recalling that Shen Chiyan’s kindness was motivated by her blood and because of Lin Qiutong, a heavy weight pressed upon her heart, suffocating and painful.

“Come with me to the second floor.”

Song Qinian nodded quietly and followed Zhang Qiaoqiao to the guest room.

“There are skincare products and cosmetics on the table over there.”

Then Zhang Qiaoqiao opened the wardrobe. “These clothes are all custom-made to your size. Take a look and see if you like them. If you need anything else, just let me know.”

Song Qinian looked at the wardrobe full of clothes and the expensive skincare products, her emotions tangled.

Suddenly, her phone rang—it was a WeChat message from Shen Kexin.

“Sis-in-law, how are things with my brother? Did he bully you last night? Did you act spoiled with him?”

After thanking Zhang Qiaoqiao and sending her off, Song Qinian sat on the bed and replied to Shen Kexin.

“He didn’t bully me. Acting spoiled… doesn’t work.”

“Doesn’t work? That can’t be! Normally, nobody can resist when you act spoiled, so what’s going on with my brother?”

Biting her lip, trying to suppress her sadness, Song Qinian typed with difficulty, “He doesn’t like me!”

So acting spoiled was useless.

Sensing her distress, Shen Kexin quickly comforted her: “It’s okay. Ancient generals had thirty-six stratagems; we’ll take it slow. Don’t rush or be upset. I’ll come up with a good plan.”

Song Qinian wanted to tell Shen Kexin to stop meddling, but before she could send the message, her phone died.

After charging it, she had already forgotten about Shen Kexin’s matter, her mind preoccupied with Gu Zhiyan.

At three in the afternoon, Gu Zhiyan, dressed in a black strapless waist-cinching dress, finished attending an event and returned to her dressing room, where her assistant handed her an envelope. “Teacher Gu, this is a letter from President Shen.”

Gu Zhiyan lifted her eyelids slightly, her cold eyes casually glancing at the pink envelope. “Chiyan?”

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“Yes.”

Gu Zhiyan was silent for a few seconds. Knowing her son well, if Shen Chiyan wanted to contact her, he would call directly—not write a letter, and certainly not send it in a pink envelope.

Who would write to her under Shen Chiyan’s name?

“What’s inside?”

“Feels like a card.”

A card?

“Open it and see.”

The assistant opened the envelope and took out a bank card and a gradient green note.

The assistant handed the note to Gu Zhiyan. She took it and saw a string of elegant, neat handwriting in a style called Whale Fall script.

“Teacher Gu, hello, I am Song Qinian.

I wanted to call you 'Mom,' but thinking you might not like that, please forgive me for addressing you as Teacher Gu.

This card contains two hundred thousand yuan meant for my mother, the password is your birthday.

I apologize on behalf of my mother. I’m sorry; she won’t bother you anymore.

Lastly, please forgive me for saying one more thing—take care of your health while filming and get plenty of rest.”

Song Qinian had the habit of drawing a cute smiley face at the end of every diary entry or painting.

Perhaps unaware of it herself, but when Gu Zhiyan saw the smiley face, her gaze lingered on it for several seconds.

“Teacher Gu, this card…”

Gu Zhiyan handed the note and card back to the assistant. “Keep the note and card together.”

The assistant was surprised. In decades of her career, Gu Zhiyan never accepted gifts from fans or others—but this time she made an exception.

Though the assistant didn’t see what was written on the note, from Gu Zhiyan’s reaction, the sender must be someone special to her.

As Gu Zhiyan sipped the coffee the assistant had prepared earlier, she recalled how cautious and timid Song Qinian had been whenever they met.

It seemed her daughter-in-law was not as fragile and helpless as she appeared.

If this letter hadn’t been sent under Shen Chiyan’s name, it surely wouldn’t have reached her hands. Song Qinian did have some cleverness after all.