Baoyuan Temple was located in Dapu North, far away from the bustling, lively CBD.
With its beautiful scenery, backed by mountains and facing the sea, it was truly a land blessed by fortune and spiritual energy.
Back in the day, Zhuang Qiting’s grandfather had spent six million pounds to buy this mountain from the British.
After Zhuang Qiting’s father inherited the family business, more than two billion was gradually invested over the years to build this temple, which merged Tang-Song Aesthetics into its design.
It could be said the long construction witnessed the rise and prosperity of the Zhuang Family.
Everyone on Hong Kong Island knew that Baoyuan Temple was actually the Zhuang Family’s ancestral temple.
The mountain behind the temple was the Zhuang Family Graveyard, and every year, the Zhuang Family held their ancestral rites here.
The temple was tranquil and elegant, offering accommodations and Buddhist Cuisine.
It was fueled by incense from the outside world, with local devotees often coming to worship, meditate, or volunteer, and many tourists came to check in after hearing its reputation.
Today, Baoyuan Temple was under lockdown, with a crowd of reporters staking out the main gate.
As more than twenty black Mercedes-Benz cars arrived in a long, sweeping procession, flashbulbs burst wildly, the spectacle so grand it seemed to startle the mountain deities.
Inside one of the cars, Li Yaru raised her hand to close the sunshade and stifled a yawn.
She’d had insomnia until dawn and got up at six-thirty to do her makeup; now she could barely summon any energy.
Beside her, Zhuang Qiting looked perfectly refreshed, arms folded, eyes half-closed, listening lazily to experts on the Financial Radio analyze the recent crash of the US Stock Market.
From the moment they got into the car until now, neither of them had spoken a single word, as if locked in a silent standoff, a tug-of-war.
In this strange, oppressive silence, Li Yaru felt as if she were sitting on pins and needles.
She shifted her posture, then reached up to touch the mesh veil draping from her little hat.
Apart from her Diamond Ring, her fingers wore no other jewelry— this lightness made her feel unaccustomed.
Finally, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Li Yaru placed her hands primly on her lap and lowered her voice. “Give me my things back.”
Besides the driver and Li Guanjia in the front passenger seat, only Zhuang Qiting was left in the car.
A few seconds later, the man gave a low chuckle, still resting with his eyes closed. “What things?”
“…You know exactly what I mean.”
“Sorry, A’ru, I really don’t know. You’ll have to be a bit more specific.”
Li Yaru’s fingers dug fiercely into the leather seat of the Mercedes-Benz, almost tearing it apart.
She forced herself to swallow her shame and said, “Zhuang Qiting… don’t go too far. You entered my room without my permission. I’ll let that go. But that’s my thing— please put it back where it was in three days.”
The moment she realized something she’d used had been taken by Zhuang Qiting, she felt utterly humiliated.
For over a month, the two of them had been locked in a silent war. Whoever gave in first would lose, and that submission was both psychological and physical.
They had once been so intimate, spending night after night together— even without a shred of affection, it was enough to give rise to separation anxiety.
So many styles, so many models… Yet she had chosen the one most like Zhuang Qiting.
A man as cunning as him would see through it at a glance. No wonder he’d been so cocky lately— he’d approached her twice and handled it all with ease.
He must have decided that her talk of divorce was all for show, just a bit of drama, and that in the end she’d obediently return.
Truly, this was the greatest humiliation of Li Yaru’s life!
The motorcade drove in one by one, climbing the slope at an even pace.
Hundreds of Bodhi Trees, Crape Myrtles, Red Maples, and Mountain Banyans lined the way, shading the temple that blended various schools of aesthetics.
Warm sunlight filtered through, casting an ancient, tranquil coolness.
At last, in the shadowy interior, Zhuang Qiting opened his eyes. “I’ve already confiscated your things. There’s no way I’ll give them back. Baby, when you can’t take it anymore, just tell me— I’ll give you something even better to play with.”
He turned to face Li Yaru, his gaze lingering on her face, half-veiled by the mesh, where nobility and seduction met in perfect harmony.
“You—” Li Yaru was mortified, lowering her voice even further. “I’ve never seen a man more shameless and arrogant than you. Let me tell you, you lecherous dog, I will never come to you in this lifetime, so give up already.”
The car was completely sealed, as quiet as a still pond. Even the smallest sound could send ripples across the silence.
Li Guanjia and the driver in front tried hard to make themselves invisible, and for a moment, the car was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.
Zhuang Qiting’s brows twitched slightly. He didn’t like his wife speaking to him in this tone, but he was used to it by now.
Breathing in her cool and alluring scent, his mood remained calm. He smiled faintly. “If I’m a lecherous dog, then what does that make you, baby?”
He leaned in, the heat of his breath curling around her ear, his voice so low only the two of them could hear. “A sneaky little vixen doing naughty things behind my back?”
“…………”
Vixen, vixen, vixen! The most shameless one here is this dog!
Li Yaru sat stiffly, unable to believe he dared say such things in the sacred grounds of a Buddhist temple.
But then again, this was just who he was— outwardly dignified and steady, yet inwardly so arrogant he didn’t believe in gods or buddhas.
The car stopped in the temple’s open-air parking lot. People began getting out, and soon the place was lively.
Out of the corner of her eye, Li Yaru saw two sisters-in-law waving at her, probably signaling her to get out quickly.
She hurriedly pushed Zhuang Qiting aside and pretended to straighten her clothes with perfect composure, her gaze lowered. “…This is a sacred Buddhist place. I won’t talk to you about this. You may not care about your reputation, but I still care about mine.”
Zhuang Qiting let out a laugh.
Li Yaru ignored his mockery, fingers adjusting the scarf at her neck, making sure everything about her looked immaculate. Then, without hesitation, she opened the car door in one smooth motion.
Her long, slender legs stepped out gracefully, like a noble swan, though her cheeks were tinged with a faint blush.
“Auntie!”
“Good morning!”
“Auntie!!”
“I missed you so much!”
Soon, greetings filled the air— some deep, some clear, some casual, some gentle— all from the younger generation of the Zhuang Family.
There were so many Zhuang Family boys it was almost laughable— more than a duck farm, really.
Just today, there were at least seven or eight present, all with broad shoulders, narrow waists, and long legs, dressed in sharp three-piece suits, each wearing a Zhuang Family Signet Ring on their index finger.
The scene was spectacular, like the backstage of a luxury fashion show filled with male models.
Faced with such a pleasing sight, Li Yaru’s mood improved by half.
She smiled warmly, and after greeting a few uncles and sisters-in-law, she turned to the handsome young men. “Good morning, handsome boys. For the next three days, please cooperate with whatever your second aunt has arranged for you. Do what you’re told, no slacking, no trickery, no smoking, drinking, or gambling, and absolutely no sneaking meat! If I catch you, you’ll be punished by kneeling in the Ancestral Hall.”
Li Yaru had a strong reputation in the family— decisive, open-minded, fun, and extremely generous.
She wasn’t a lady molded by the rules of high society, nor a pampered canary, much less a domineering, sharp-tongued matriarch.
Even the most unruly playboys of the family behaved themselves in front of her.
Most importantly, everyone knew that if their aunt was angry, the consequences were severe—even their uncle would get scolded.
On the whole of Hong Kong Island, who dared scold Zhuang Qiting? People didn’t even dare call him by name.
“We’re doomed, we’ll be working hard again this year…”
“Last year, carrying water rubbed my shoulders raw.”
“You’re one to talk— I carried most of the water with Ming!”
“Fine, this year you and big brother can carry water, and the fourth, fifth, and sixth can clean the Ancestral Hall. Scrubbing the floor on your knees— let’s see how you like that.”
“Better than cleaning the pigeon cages—last year I wouldn’t clean those fat birds even if you killed me, the smell made me lose my appetite for three days.”
“What are we supposed to do, boss? I really want to eat meat right now…”
“All you think about is eating.”
“…………”
“Aiya, Qian, don’t blame your little brother. He’s still growing. Three days of vegetarian food isn’t too cruel. Once this is over, I’ll take everyone out on my yacht to go fishing and eat something fresh to make up for it.”
“I knew you’d show off that broken yacht of yours. You’ve played with it for a month and still aren’t tired of it?”
It was rare for all the brothers to gather like this, and soon the group was chattering and joking, testosterone practically crackling in the air.
But as Zhuang Qiting leisurely stepped out of the backseat, the lively scene went dead silent.