Volume One, Chapter Six: What Use Is It to Keep Your Entire Family Alive?

The maid pinned Song Qinian to the floor, raining down kicks and blows. Song Qinian, however, did not submit easily; she would not hold back whenever she found an opening.

It was only when other servants outside heard the commotion that they rushed in to pull the plump maid away.

"You bitch, you dare hit me? Don't think you'll have an easy life in the Shen household from now on."

The plump maid cursed as she was dragged out. Song Qinian lay on the floor, clutching her head, ignored by everyone. Many even looked on with malicious glee.

Lying on the cold floor, Song Qinian’s initial anger gradually faded into a sense of grievance and sorrow. She could not speak, so she could only cry out in her heart: "Father, Niannian misses you so much..."

In a daze, Song Qinian seemed to see Song Guanliang. He leaned down and gently lifted her up, reaching out to stroke her hair. "Niannian, be good. Father is here; I won't let anyone bully you."

Song Qinian’s tears flowed even more torrentially.

...

Outside, it was pouring rain. Shen Chiyan returned home, cloaked in a chill, and the servants immediately greeted him.

Not seeing Song Qinian in the living room, Shen Chiyan frowned and asked, "Where is she?"

Seeing this, the plump maid clutched her face, which had been scratched by Song Qinian’s fingernails, and grievance-filled, added fuel to the fire. She claimed that she had gone to deliver food to Song Qinian, but Song Qinian not only refused to eat it, she splashed the soup in her face, scratched her, beat her up, and drove her out.

The maid’s face was flushed, and scars remained where the nails had dug in.

Thinking of how Song Qinian had been fierce enough to beat President Liang until his head bled, Shen Chiyan found it easy to believe she would do the same to a servant. His face turned cold as he snapped, "Go, bring her out to me."

The maid felt a surge of triumph and arrogantly pushed open the basement door. Seeing Song Qinian lying on the bed, she aggressively hauled her out from under the covers.

Song Qinian was in great pain, her head spinning with fever. Seeing it was the plump maid, she was about to lash out, but the woman’s smug voice rang out: "The master is back, and he wants to see you. Song Qinian, you're done for!"

In the dining room, Shen Chiyan’s expression was dark and terrifying. Seeing Song Qinian’s frail and thin frame, his inner rage intensified. Perhaps sensing the fury radiating from him, Song Qinian instinctively stopped, afraid to go near him.

"Come here!"

Hearing Shen Chiyan’s cold, commanding tone, Song Qinian gritted her teeth and dragged her feet toward him.

"Why didn't you eat?"

Song Qinian dared not look at his face; every part of her body ached, her chest most of all. It was rare for Shen Chiyan to show concern for her, yet it was only because of her blood.

Shen Chiyan seemed to have no patience for her explanations. He simply said coldly, "Eat everything on the table."

Song Qinian glanced at the dining table. It was all food meant to replenish qi and nourish blood: black-bone chicken soup with mushrooms, longan and red date lotus seed congee, duck blood vermicelli, and the like.

Song Qinian had no appetite at all. She was allergic to mushrooms and longan, and she detested duck blood, so she stood there without moving.

Seeing this, Shen Chiyan stood up, walked over, and yanked Song Qinian onto the chair at the table.

"Song Qinian, do you really think of yourself as the mistress of the Shen family? Acting haughty toward servants and now giving me attitude? What? I refuse your father’s medical parole, so you’re staging a hunger strike? Who do you think you are?"

The pain in her wrists and body turned her face deathly pale. Seeing the servants watching the show, she clenched her fists. Shen Chiyan never cared about her; he didn't know that she was allergic to these things—that eating them could kill her!

Shen Chiyan didn't even give her time to use sign language, continuing coldly: "You will eat these, whether you want to or not! Don't forget, your beast of a father is still alive, and your mother and brother are still living normal lives, all because of your blood. If you aren't even useful for this, what use do I have for your entire family!"

Shen Chiyan scooped up a spoonful of the chicken soup and forced it into Song Qinian’s mouth without regard.

"Cough, cough..."

Song Qinian choked, and the soup splattered onto Shen Chiyan. A flash of deep disgust crossed his eyes, his expression turning even more gloomy and terrifying. He shoved her away violently, glared coldly at the coughing woman, and snapped at the servants: "Watch her. She doesn't leave this room until she finishes everything on that table."

It was already late, and the servants, eager to finish up and rest, had no patience for her to eat on her own. They exchanged glances; some held Song Qinian down, while others shoved the food into her mouth with large spoons.

Song Qinian struggled, but she was no match for them. She felt as though she had a fever; her body was burning, and she was weak. Dazed, she looked at the grim-faced nannies and felt they were no different from demons from hell.

Song Qinian didn't know how much she had been force-fed. She only knew that her whole body ached and her stomach burned like fire.

Finally, Song Qinian was tossed into the basement like a rag.

Her body was in intense pain, but it was nothing compared to the agony in her heart. Shen Chiyan made her eat this food only for her blood. His heart and mind were filled with Lin Qiutong, and as for her—even if she were to die, he probably wouldn't even furrow his brow.

She curled up on the floor, holding herself tightly, tears falling uncontrollably as her consciousness began to blur.

That night, Shen Chiyan received a call from Gong Yuqi. Gong Yuqi was an actor, busy filming and attending events every day. Having finally found a moment of rest, he wanted to find Shen Chiyan to drink and chat.

When Shen Chiyan arrived, only Gong Yuqi was in the private room.

Gong Yuqi was wearing a gold silk shirt and black trousers. He loved gold, especially 24-karat gold. A large gold chain hung around his slim, handsome neck, and even his belt was gold. On anyone else, this ensemble might look like a nouveau riche display, but Gong Yuqi was handsome and refined, his shirt collar unbuttoned to reveal a look that was both sexy and flamboyant.

When Gong Yuqi first became famous, he had even sparked a trend of gold-themed fashion.

Knowing Shen Chiyan disliked noise, the room was filled with soft, soothing music.

"Yo, you're here."

"How come it's just you?"

"Sinian couldn't make it due to some business. It's a lonely night; we brothers will just have to rely on each other."

Gong Yuqi tried to give Shen Chiyan a hug, but Shen Chiyan coldly dodged him.

Gong Yuqi pursed his lips as he missed. "Brother, being a germaphobe is an illness. You need to get that treated."

Shen Chiyan didn't speak. His dark eyes swept over the sofa, his expression not particularly pleasant.

"Don't worry, sit. No one has sat on your designated sofa. I even had the waiter disinfect it when I arrived."

In Gong Yuqi's eyes, Shen Chiyan was handsome and had a great physique, outshining all the stars in the entertainment industry. His only flaw was his severe germaphobia and his fastidious nature. He wouldn't let anyone touch the sofa he sat on, and the glass he drank from had to be brand new and disinfected three times.

Gong Yuqi had once suspected that Shen Chiyan would end up dying alone, but he never expected him to be the first among their brotherhood to get married.

"Hey, how are things going with your mute, delicate wife lately?"