The palms of a man who had spent years sailing and hunting were covered in rough, wild calluses. He let out a sigh, the heat from his palm burning hot.
Her dress strap had snapped, half-revealing her fair skin.
She wanted to stay cool, so she’d only put on a thin, breathable patch, but now, with Zhuang Qiting glaring at her so fiercely, her face inevitably grew warm.
In broad daylight, and right in a serious, proper office— he really was one person in public and another behind closed doors.
And he actually had the nerve to complain about other men staring at her.
The most shameless one was him, this pretentious old thing! She didn’t even know what he found so attractive— he’d always been obsessed.
Even when he was young, just one look from him could change his entire aura: dangerous and unrestrained.
He’s still the same, after all these years.
Li Yaru closed her eyes, muttered a half-hearted curse, but didn’t struggle anymore.
The corners of Zhuang Qiting’s lips curled with a faint smile. After days apart, she must have missed him too— even if her mouth refused to admit it.
He bent down and kissed his wife’s cheek, thinking, No wonder those young brats lose their minds over her. He alone had savored this taste for over twenty years and still couldn’t get enough.
He often wondered if Li Yaru was a fox spirit in disguise, sent to seduce him, planting a spell on him that he could never break.
Without the slightest pause, he swept her up into his arms and strode toward a solid, ancient-looking bookcase.
Li Yaru knew exactly where Zhuang Qiting was taking her. She couldn’t be bothered to resist, letting herself be carried, her breath trembling like flowing water.
She hadn’t tasted that feeling these past days on the island, and she missed it too. After all, she was a married woman.
Just think of him as a gigolo she paid for—sure, he was old, but at least he was clean, capable, good-looking, with an excellent body. He had plenty of capital, really!
Inside the Rosewood Chilong Mosquito Cabinet were all sorts of priceless ornaments: a Jade Buddha, a Golden Qilin, Ru Kiln Porcelain, an Ivory Burner, and some high-ranking medals and trophies.
Among them, a large Gold Bauhinia Medal in gold and silver, awarded to Zhuang Qiting at the age of forty-three by the Victoria Harbour District Government— the highest honor, commending his outstanding contributions to Hong Kong Island’s economic development.
Suddenly, the cabinet bearing the highest honor of Hong Kong Island moved, slowly rotating one hundred and eighty degrees.
Revealing a hidden world inside.
In stark contrast to the subdued, orderly office area, a wave of luxurious opulence swept in.
Iridescent mother-of-pearl floor tiles gleamed, a waterfall crystal chandelier cascaded to the floor, a seven-figure Qingjin Silk Inlaid Gemstone Screen paired with a transparent Jade Tea Table, and in the corner, a Pastel Large Porcelain Jar nurtured several Eighteen Scholars… Everything spelled out Li Yaru’s name.
No one would ever guess that inside the famed landmark Shenghui Tower on Hong Kong Island, there was a Golden House meant just for hiding a beloved woman.
Li Yaru kept her eyes closed, refusing to look at the all-too-familiar surroundings.
In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, in the bathroom, on the carpet, beside the bed, on the sofa— memories of them lingered everywhere.
“You’re filthy in this state…” Even now, she couldn’t help but say it.
“Baby, I already showered before you came.”
He’d prepared everything in advance.
Zhuang Qiting gently set Li Yaru down, lips pressed tight, then took off his vest and loosened his tie. His calm movements hid a streak of harshness.
Right now, he only wanted to properly discipline this reckless little thing.
Just mentioning divorce was enough to make him uncomfortable. A
nd vacationing on the island, she couldn’t stay out of trouble, flirting with some hot-blooded young boy.
That waiter was only twenty! Younger than both their sons!
So disobedient.
Zhuang Qiting looked down at his blushing wife, coolly scrutinizing her.
“Why do you insist on not listening? I let you go out to relax, to see the sights and calm your mind—not to flirt with some little boy who hasn’t even grown all his hair.” His words were cold, but his touch burned as he kept kissing her cheeks and ears, his palm growing ever hotter.
Li Yaru couldn’t hear a word he was saying. Her whole being was lost in a pink haze, lips curling into a lazy smile as she sprawled out on the chaise like a cat enjoying a perfect petting.
After over twenty years of marriage, Zhuang Qiting knew her better than he knew himself— how to make her happy, how to make her comfortable, and how to make her suffer, caught in between.
……………
Li Yaru was enjoying a top-tier massage, her body soft and languid, when suddenly she plunged into a vast emptiness. She struggled to open her eyes, meeting a deep, enigmatic gaze—dark and predatory, like a beast lurking in the shadows.
“Hey… don’t do that…” She grasped his strong arm, mumbling.
Zhuang Qiting tried to steady his breathing, his deep voice tinged with obsession, “Don’t mention divorce again, alright, baby… Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you— jewels, haute couture, yachts, planes, anything you like. All yours.”
Li Yaru was thoroughly exasperated by his shameless moves.
Why does he always like to tease me? Is this one of his twisted pleasures too? Even the corners of her eyes crinkled with annoyance.
She raised her hand and slapped him, stubbornly declaring, “…If you can’t do it, get someone else.” Her breath trembled, “There are plenty who’d be willing… y-you’re not the only one.”
No man could resist a beautiful, sexy woman who owned half the Shenghui Empire— whether she was twenty, forty, or sixty. If it weren’t for fear of Zhuang Qiting’s power and methods, who knew how many men would be clamoring to be her plaything.
Zhuang Qiting gave a cold laugh, “Only you could make me angry with just a single sentence.”
He forcefully pinned both her wrists above her head, holding them down. With his other long arm, he reached for the bedside drawer and pulled out a beautiful pair of Red-Gold Ostrich Leather Handcuffs, like a pair of handcuffs.
Made from expensive Ostrich Leather, the inside was lined with thick, soft Rabbit Fur to keep her delicate wrists from getting hurt.
Red and gold were Li Yaru’s favorite colors, and together, they looked elegant and striking.
“Zhuang Qiting, you old bastard! Don’t you dare!” Li Yaru’s eyes flew wide— she didn’t want to play this rough.
“There’s nothing I don’t dare, baby.”
His voice was low and clipped, and as soon as the words fell, Li Yaru’s left hand was cuffed. The next moment, her eyes were covered as well— by his silky tie.
“Zhuang…”
The unknown made Li Yaru tremble. She remembered how these handcuffs had once restrained both of them together.
But this time, she felt even more nervous than ever before.
Her only free right hand wasn’t spared either, as Zhuang Qiting interlaced his fingers with hers, holding tight and refusing to let go.
She couldn’t see him, but he could see her— completely.
His rough fingertips traced over her lips, then replaced by a trail of delicate, lingering kisses. He loved kissing her— tenderly, from her cheeks to her brow, to the tip of her nose, and then deeper still.
Zhuang Qiting’s heart melted, his fingers tightly entwined with hers, sticky with sweat but unwilling to let go. He whispered, “Be good, Ah Ruo, don’t ever say things like that to make me angry again…”
“Baby…” “Baby…”
.
All of his afternoon meetings were canceled, and it wasn’t until evening, as the sun set, that things finally quieted.
Zhuang Qiting, for some reason, seemed completely wild today.
Li Yaru was so exhausted she fell into a deep sleep, skipping dinner. When she woke up, it was already after nine at night, and her stomach was growling with hunger.
The bedroom curtains were open, letting in cool moonlight. Not far away, a group of elegant black swans glided across the man-made lake, while rare camellias bloomed throughout the garden.
This wasn’t Zhuang Qiting’s office—she was back at the Zhuang Residence. She didn’t even know when she’d returned.
Li Yaru got out of bed in frustration, her legs shaking, nearly losing her balance.
Does that old man still think he’s in his twenties? So greedy, so ruthless—he’s going to kill himself at this rate!
She made her way to the small dining room. The maid, tidying up, saw she was awake and hurried to ask if she wanted a late-night snack.
Li Yaru asked what was available. The maid said there was Black-bone Chicken and Softshell Turtle Soup simmering, Abalone Shrimp Dumplings made that afternoon, as well as fresh sea conch and lamb chops— if she wanted anything, it could be ready in no time.
Just hearing it made Li Yaru feel queasy— Black-bone Chicken with Softshell Turtle was too rich for her taste.
“Just some shrimp dumplings, cold sea conch, and a glass of Banana Cucumber Juice.” She always ate light at night to keep her figure.
“Won’t you try some soup, madam? The chef said it’s rare to get Wild Old Softshell Turtle over ten years old these days. The broth is creamy and fresh, and sir had two bowls himself.” The maid remembered Zhuang Qiting’s instructions— madam must have some turtle soup to nourish her body.
Li Yaru suddenly laughed. That old man does know how to care for me— probably drinking the soup himself while his back ached.
“He’s getting on in years, needs a little tonic. Otherwise, where would he get the strength to show off?” Though her tone was mocking, it sounded rather coy.
The maid lowered her head, pretending not to hear, and didn’t dare press Li Yaru to drink the soup again.
With the lady’s late-night order, the kitchen bustled into action.
The juice came up quickly, and Li Yaru sipped it while flipping through the new season’s brand lookbook.
Every year, major luxury brands sent their new product catalogs to important VIC Clients months before launch, so they could pre-order their favorites.
The styles Li Yaru wore usually wouldn’t hit the market for another three months— and that was just ready-to-wear. If it was haute couture, it was guaranteed to be one of a kind.
Her annual wardrobe budget alone reached nine figures.
Within the Zhuang Residence compound, there was a separate four-story building just for her clothes, shoes, and bags. On Queen’s Road, she had a boutique that wasn’t even open to the public—just to display her collection of haute couture and perfumes, named “Eleanor’s.”
Thanks to these extravagances, Li Yaru had earned titles like “Hong Kong Island’s Most Powerful Socialite” and “Queen of Burning Cash.”
Zhuang Qiting, who controlled everything— down to her picky eating and the length of her skirts— never minded her “spending sprees.” In fact, he spoiled her when it came to money.
The conch slices were crisp and springy. As Li Yaru ate, a rushing sound of footsteps approached.
“Mummy! You’re back from Fiji?”
This was their youngest son, Li Shengming, a high schooler at Deans International School. Still in his uniform, the sharp British-style suit fit his tall, slender frame, full of youthful vigor.
Seeing her handsome youngest, Li Yaru’s mood instantly improved. She crooked her finger, beckoning him over like calling a puppy.
Her three sons were all different. The eldest seemed steady but was secretly repressed. The second pretended to be calm but was actually rebellious. The youngest was the most obedient—lively, cheerful, and clingy. He was a proper little puppy.
Kids really should take their mother’s surname. Those who do listen best!
Thinking of her youngest’s surname, Li Yaru’s gaze darkened.
It was complicated— too many things involved.
She believed Zhuang Qiting letting their youngest take her surname was his way of making up for the past.
But why couldn’t a child take her name? It was only right, yet it was made into compensation. Besides, Zhuang Qiting didn’t care about his sons! The Zhuang family didn’t care about one less boy with their surname! Boys were worthless in the Zhuang family!
“You’re all sweaty—smells terrible. Don’t jump on me.” As Li Shengming drew close, Li Yaru caught a whiff and shrank away in disgust.
Li Shengming scratched his head, “I was at drama club rehearsal tonight. For this year’s Mid-Autumn Festival, you and Daddy have to come watch! I’m the lead!”
“I’ll come, that’s enough. Your daddy’s busy these days.”
“Daddy upset you again?”
Li Yaru shot her son a surprised look. “…How could you tell?”
“Second brother said you went on vacation alone, and Daddy didn’t even dare call you. He even had second brother spy on you.”
Li Yaru clicked her tongue mentally. Acting in front of the kids again, pretending to care, as if he doesn’t know her every move is under his nose?
Just then, the shrimp dumplings came out, steaming hot. Li Shengming’s mouth watered at the sight, and he reached for one.
Li Yaru hurriedly told him not to use his hands, but before she finished, her son yelped, “—— So hot!”
Now he wanted them even more, grabbing her used chopsticks in desperation.
“Sun Ma, bring the young master a set of utensils and make him his own supper.”
A deep, indifferent voice sounded from behind, startling Li Shengming into dropping the chopsticks.
His heart thudded— Daddy was home too!!
He turned, standing up straight, and forced a goofy smile at Zhuang Qiting, “Daddy, you’re home too.”
Li Yaru glanced up at Zhuang Qiting— she hadn’t expected him home either, thinking he’d be out at some engagement.
He was dressed casually at home, in a relaxed Linen Shirt and Suede Loafers, sleeves rolled up, honey-colored forearms veined and strong.
Standing next to a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old boy, his presence alone made his son seem half his height.
The son was still growing— not yet as tall or imposing as his father.
Zhuang Qiting walked over, giving his son’s head a punishing pat, “You’re too old to be using your mummy’s chopsticks. It’s rude and unhygienic.”
Li Shengming protested, “Mummy’s chopsticks are clean!”
Zhuang Qiting replied, “You’re the one who’s not clean.”
“…………”
The big boy pursed his lips in grievance. When he was younger and drank from his mummy’s cup, Daddy had lectured him harshly.
Daddy never let the three brothers touch anything of mummy’s.
Her food, her utensils, her bed, her rocking chair, her bedroom…
Everything belonging to mummy was Daddy’s private domain. Anyone who crossed the line would face his wrath. Like a beast fiercely guarding his territory— first a male, then a father.
Forget it. I can’t beat him. Even second brother can’t beat Daddy.
Li Shengming stifled his hunger and called out, “Sun Ma, I’m going to shower! Bring supper to my room. Mummy, Daddy, I’m going— enjoy your meal.”
The long-legged high schooler dashed off, terrified of being caught and lectured by the headmaster.
Li Yaru couldn’t stand her son’s cowardice, chuckled in exasperation, and played with her straw, stirring the slightly oxidized cucumber juice.
She said idly, “If you’re bored, have more turtle soup. Don’t keep throwing your weight around as the head of the family in front of me and our son.”
Zhuang Qiting smiled faintly, sitting down beside her. “The soup’s good tonight. Why not try some? If you eat so little, you’ll be hungry at night.”
Li Yaru raised an eyebrow. “Such good soup ought to be saved for Zhuang Sheng to boost his kidneys.”
So flippant, so mocking. Not only was she not gentle or considerate, but she even had the nerve to ridicule her husband like this.
A trace of embarrassment flashed across Zhuang Qiting’s face, but he couldn’t bring himself to get angry at her.
It was precisely because of this weakness that he’d spoiled her for so many years, letting her run wild and ride roughshod over him.
He leaned back in his chair, watching his wife eat. Truth be told, he liked her spoiled, willful ways. Still, some things had to be kept in check.
He said softly, “If you’re so concerned about my kidneys, Ah Ruo, aren’t you the one who knows best? Have you already forgotten the gift I gave you this afternoon?”
.