Besides, the car windows were tinted; even if someone saw, so what? Even if they took a photo, so what? Even if it made the tabloids the next day, so what? It would just show everyone that their marriage was passionate, that they could kiss anywhere, anytime.
Zhuang Qiting kissed her deeply, fingers untying her scarf, pulling it away and balling it up.
Li Yaru’s eyes were wet from the kiss, her lips too.
Zhuang Qiting finally let her go, using the scarf to wipe away the drool at the corner of her mouth. “Miss Li, is the gift your Husband gave you so shameful? You have to hide it?”
Li Yaru’s breath trembled, her nose and mouth full of his scent, her mind a little dizzy. “You’re crazy. If I go see people with this, it’s you who’ll be embarrassed.”
Zhuang Qiting kissed her cheek, his voice low. “Doesn’t matter. You can embarrass me all you want.”
Li Yaru didn’t want to argue about this. He never cared what others thought—actually, he never cared about others at all.
Even if he was embarrassed, everyone around him would praise him, saying he was a gentle, devoted Husband.
“What did you have for lunch?” Zhuang Qiting twisted open a bottle of water and handed it to her to moisten her throat.
Li Yaru waved it off, indicating she couldn’t drink anymore; her stomach was too full. “Western food— steak, salad, that kind of thing.”
“Must’ve tasted good if you ate until two. What about your high school classmate— why didn’t he come down with you? We’re not in a rush, we could give him a ride.” Zhuang Qiting asked casually.
Li Yaru kept her face calm. “His office is nearby. Just a short walk.”
“Which company does he work at? Maybe I know someone there. Who knows, there might be a chance for cooperation.”
Li Yaru was sick of his questions. It was just a normal get-together, but now she felt like she had to hide it. The more she hid, the guiltier she felt.
She shot him an annoyed look. “Why are you asking so much? Just a small company executive, not worth the attention of a Big Boss like you. Enough about others— aren’t you taking me to Macau?”
Li Yaru took the initiative to put her arms around his neck, tilting her face up, brushing his chin with her nose. “Going to have fun for a few days?”
Like this, her slender neck stretched straight, the love bites like his brand. She threw herself into his arms, and Zhuang Qiting’s breath deepened.
Nothing else mattered.
Only she was important. No one else could ever move his heart again.
“How many days do you want to play?” He wrapped his arm around her waist.
“Three days. I want to go big. If I win, it’s mine. If I lose, it’s on you.” Li Yaru felt she was almost acting cute with him.
Zhuang Qiting kissed her forehead. “When have you ever lost and not had me pay?”
.
The Portugese Cuisine that night was delicious. Li Yaru especially loved the Seafood Rice and Cream-fried Clams. She’d been to Macau dozens of times, but every visit still felt great.
The luxurious Villa Suite was shrouded in a light haze.
On the very first night, they went from the bathroom to the balcony, nothing like a middle-aged couple together for over twenty years— no fatigue at all, stickier than young lovers.
They really were a perfect match, never tired of each other all these years.
The room was a mess, and neither of them bothered to call for cleaning. Li Yaru lazily curled up in a cashmere blanket, listening to music, toes flexing, entering a satisfied, sage-like state.
Zhuang Qiting smoked a cigar on the terrace. The night had cooled, and the breeze pressed his black knit sweater tightly to his muscular frame, outlining a powerful silhouette.
In this city of endless indulgence, money could buy the ultimate tranquility. Everything was quiet, with only the occasional chirping of birds. The scent of the Garden filled the air, roses dotted with dew.
Li Yaru licked her swollen lips, suddenly rolled over and sat up, resting her arm on the back of the sofa. Zhuang Qiting looked over, asking what was up.
“My throat hurts.” Her voice was really hoarse, sounding especially soft.
Zhuang Qiting raised an eyebrow, teasing her intimately, “Who told Baby not to take care of her voice? You almost blew the roof off.”
Li Yaru snorted, face unchanged. “Old Thing, if you keep pretending, I’ll show you! It was all your fault!”
Just seeing his sanctimonious face annoyed her.
He ate, and insisted on feeding her too. When she refused, he pressed down on her throat—absolutely wicked.
Zhuang Qiting’s eyes were deep. He put down the cigar, wiped his hands with a wet towel, then walked over, lifted her chin, and made her open her mouth to check if he’d hurt her. Li Yaru bit his finger mercilessly.
“Behave, you little thing—were you born in the year of the dog?” He pinched her cheek.
“You’re the dog. Old Dog.” Li Yaru pouted, too lazy to bicker with him, resting her head on his lap, her waterfall of hair spreading over his solid thighs.
“Hey.” She suddenly pushed Zhuang Qiting’s arm. He looked down at her.
Chatting about life with Fan Zizhuo at lunch had made Li Yaru sigh. She hadn’t expected so many years to pass in a blink— those deep loves and hates were now just stories to joke about. She’d never thought of eloping with Fan Zizhuo.
Marrying Zhuang Qiting had always been a one-hundred-percent decision. Still, she was curious— if she had really run, what would Zhuang Qiting have done? Maybe he’d have been furious.
Lying there comfortably, Li Yaru smiled seductively. “What if, back then, I suddenly didn’t want to get married, called off the wedding, or just ran away? What would you have done?”
Zhuang Qiting narrowed his eyes, surprised by her question, but not really. After all…
She’d seen her old flame at lunch.
“What do you think?”
“You’d definitely send people after me, but you probably wouldn’t catch me. Then you’d get mad and find another woman to finish the wedding—otherwise, too embarrassing.”
Zhuang Qiting laughed, gently caressing his wife’s face, his tone soft and slow, “Silly baby, first off, I’d definitely catch you. With your half-baked skills, you’d never make it off Hong Kong Island. Then I’d chop up the man who tried to elope with you and toss him into Victoria Harbour to feed the fish. After that, I’d lock you up and give you a golden and diamond anklet— didn’t you like those? They’d look nice on your feet. On the wedding day, I’d use your parents’ lives to make you obediently be my bride. Whether you cried or smiled, you’d marry me anyway. And on the wedding night, I’d really torment you— three places, none would be spared. You couldn’t leave until you got pregnant.”
“……………????”
Damn! Was that even human language? He was a devil!!
Li Yaru stared at him, tongue-tied, shocked. “You— you’re crazy, lunatic, pervert— sleep in the guest room tonight! Did I ask you for so many details?! You— you’re seriously sick!”
Zhuang Qiting sighed, his deep voice sexy and a little aggrieved, “You asked first. I answer, you scold me.”
“I scold you because you’re too perverted!” Li Yaru shuddered, kicking at his abs a few times.
He really dared to say it. She was going to call the Police and have him arrested. “And don’t flatter yourself. If I ran, I’d go alone. Why do you assume I’d elope with someone? Don’t slander me!”
“Really?” Zhuang Qiting played with her foot, lazily, lightly.
The more Li Yaru thought about it, the scarier it seemed. She pulled her foot away, not letting him touch it at all. “Forget it, forget it. You’ve blown my mind tonight. I’m going to bed to recover. You sleep in the guest room. I’m scared of you, Big Boss.”
She was already tired, and after hearing Zhuang Qiting’s terrifying words, she was even more shaken. Her steps were wobbly as she climbed into bed and fell asleep instantly.
Zhuang Qiting sat alone in the living room for a while. The unfinished cigar was still on the terrace table, and the smoke was blown inside by the wind.
He knew Fan Zizhuo had wanted to elope with Li Yaru back then.
He knew Fan Zizhuo had bought two plane tickets, two ferry tickets. Whether it was that flight or that boat, he had them all under control. If they had really tried to run away, there was no escape by land, sea, or air.
He also knew he wasn’t joking.
If Li Yaru dared call off the wedding or run, he really would do all that—he’d break her wings himself.
Those few nights, he hadn’t slept well. Every night he dreamed that his little darling, who should be sleeping beside him, had run off with some wild man.
Li Yaru was his woman— always would be, even in death. She had to stay by his side, even in death they’d be buried together.
He would never allow any man or woman to covet her, touch her, desire her, or lure her away.
Fan Zizhuo, Fan Zizhuo, Fan Zizhuo— like a ghost that wouldn’t leave! He was willing to spare the man’s life, but that man didn’t want it.
In that case, he shouldn’t blame him for sending him somewhere nice to wash away all that fox-like stench.