The sandy beach along Sardinia’s Baunei Coastline was unlike any other, its unique steep canyon terrain lending the shore a wild, untamed beauty.
The azure sea looked like a giant transparent jelly, studded with vibrant tropical fish swimming inside.
The sunlight was intense, and the men and women passing by on the beach wore light, airy clothes.
Zhuang Qiting sat beneath a beach umbrella, his strong, muscular frame hidden beneath a floral short-sleeve shirt, only his lightly tanned arms exposed.
Oversized sunglasses concealed most of his face, making his expression unreadable, but the taut line of his jaw revealed a coldness beneath.
He had no mood to enjoy the natural gifts of sun and sand; behind the dark lenses, his eyes fixed intently on the flamboyantly dressed Li Yaru taking photos in the distance.
She wore a very sexy white swimsuit, her long legs completely exposed without a hint of cover.
Her round hips were perfectly hugged, and the generous curves of her chest swayed enticingly with every movement.
Ada held the camera, dutifully snapping candid shots of her.
Asian skin tones were different from Western ones.
Westerners’ fair skin often appeared rough and lifeless, so many of them preferred to tan to a healthy-looking wheat color.
Asian skin was finer, and a woman’s fairness often glowed from within like exquisite warm jade or delicate white porcelain.
On this little stretch of beach, Li Yaru stood out as a radiant presence, her figure seductive, drawing many men and women eager to strike up conversation.
Just as a blond guy had invited Li Yaru for a swim and she declined, a young kid approached, holding out a fresh coconut to offer her a drink.
Zhuang Qiting instantly regretted bringing Li Yaru to the beach.
Unable to tolerate it any longer, he grabbed a shawl and strode over to her side, glaring off a nearby flirtatious suitor.
He opened the shawl and gently draped it over Li Yaru’s shoulders, wrapping her completely.
His expression was stern and silent.
“What are you doing? I’m hot,” Li Yaru said, confused. The shawl was made of fine cashmere, light and thin, but still… hot!
Zhuang Qiting replied seriously, “I’m afraid you’ll get sunburned. If you tan, you’ll go crazy again.”
Li Yaru frowned. “Go crazy about what?”
“Covering yourself in mud and sleeping in a turtle shell. What else would drive you crazy?” he said, frowning.
Li Yaru’s head nearly exploded. “That’s Special Prescription Herbal Mud, for moisture removal and whitening. And the thing I sleep in isn’t a turtle shell; it’s the Hollywood Female Celebrity Black Technology Anti-Aging Capsule! Do you know how much one session costs? Twenty thousand dollars for half an hour!”
“No wonder,” Zhuang Qiting murmured softly, his palm caressing her delicate cheek. “You look like you’re nineteen. So white and smooth.”
His voice was deep and dark, carrying an indescribable sensuality that sounded almost erotic.
Li Yaru’s skin prickled with goosebumps. She yanked off the shawl and tossed it over Zhuang Qiting’s head. “Old pervert, stop harassing me all the time.” She said this as she ran off.
Zhuang Qiting pulled off the shawl, then followed her with long strides, his eyes indulgent. “Just don’t call me that where other people can hear.”
“You care about your reputation,” Li Yaru teased with a grin, glancing back at him. He always acted so serious in public, even with a floral shirt on. “You probably don’t know how your son and brother mock you in private.”
Zhuang Qiting frowned slightly. “How do they mock me?” Although he didn’t use internet slang himself.
His wife was very trendy, always on the same wavelength as young people, familiar with all the latest buzzwords.
Zhuang Qiting often joked that she was like a younger sister, no wonder they had a generational gap.
Li Yaru returned to the umbrella, rinsing the sand off her calves and feet with bottled water.
Then she sat cross-legged on the lounge chair, tilting her head up to look at Zhuang Qiting.
He stood tall, looking down at her. His posture was upright and imposing, radiating a sense of pressure.
“A Zhou says you’re a grumpy old man who blows up at the slightest thing. Mingzi says you’re scarier than the headmaster at their school. Your fourth brother says that when he was a kid, there were times he almost called you ‘dad’ by mistake. It cracked me up, Zhuang Qiting. You really like being treated like a father figure! I always thought you were weird for that, loving to be the ‘dad’—but you’re not serious in bed, always spanking me and saying those things… Oh, you’re even cruder than me. I despised you at first.”
Zhuang Qiting’s face darkened with exasperation. He looked at Li Yaru solemnly, swallowing hard. “I spank you because you like it. And those words… men just know instinctively.”
“I’m crazy, liking being spanked. Don’t say nonsense,” Li Yaru shot him a sharp glare.
Zhuang Qiting leaned in close, gently turning her face to plant a kiss. There was no one around, and behind them loomed the steep cliff.
His voice was soft, like a warm breath blowing into her ear. “You always cry a lot when I spank you, don’t you?”
Li Yaru’s cheeks flushed, her throat dry as she swallowed. The man’s deep, captivating eyes seemed to pull her in.
He looked at her. “If you don’t believe me, we can test it tonight. But you have to give me that right.”
Zhuang Qiting was restrained now, only fondling her a little during moments of passion.
If it were before, if she dared wear a swimsuit that revealed her buttocks so openly on the beach, he would have devoured her long ago, even applied in advance to coax her.
His control was an unpleasant feeling but not entirely bad.
Li Yaru turned her head, ignoring the stirrings in her heart.
Her moist eyes quivered slightly. “You scheming old man, stop trying to flatter me. If I open my mouth, you wouldn’t get a thing tonight.”
“Get lost.”
After spending one night on Sardinia, they boarded the yacht named Zuanhai for the return trip.
This yacht wasn’t as large as the one Zhuang Qiting kept docked at Gangdao Shenghui Pier, but it was brand new with excellent equipment.
The main suite was designed with windows on three sides facing the sea, something Li Yaru really liked.
They set sail just as the sun was setting over the ocean.
A golden-orange disc draped in gilded light slowly sank into the deep blue horizon, the entire sea bathing in molten gold.
An orange beam stretched from sky to sea like the Dingdal Effect.
The distant mountain peaks formed dark silhouettes, silently attending this solemn natural ceremony.
Li Yaru sat quietly on the deck, admiring the sunset. Zhuang Qiting sat beside her, sipping champagne, not disturbing her serene mood.
Li Yaru thought of the Serengeti sunsets in Africa—not as grand or magnificent, yet he was still there with her.
They had watched many sunsets together: Victoria Harbour, Hu Cheng, Paris, New York, Tokyo…
“If we hadn’t divorced, wouldn’t it be our twenty-fifth anniversary soon?” Li Yaru exhaled softly, turning her face.
The sunset bathed Zhuang Qiting’s deeply set brows. He narrowed his eyes slightly. “Three months and eight days more. Twenty-five years exactly.”
“Time flies,” Li Yaru whispered, reclining on the lazy sofa, arms resting behind her head.
“Ah Rou , do you want to…” Zhuang Qiting was unsure why she suddenly brought up their wedding anniversary. A spark flickered in his eyes.
“Want what?”
“I know you envy Yi Er and his wife’s anniversary party. We could remarry now and still catch the twenty-fifth. Then we could throw a big party.”
He had already started planning which guests to invite. He would definitely bring Yi Kunshan over and make him the guest of honor.
Thinking of that guy bragging about his luck in front of him made his skin crawl.
Li Yaru looked at Zhuang Qiting’s serious face and couldn’t help but let out a strange laugh. “Why are you always so clueless? I told you, I won’t remarry you.”
Zhuang Qiting’s gentle expression instantly stiffened, darkening somewhat. “I won’t do anything to hurt you again. We’re not only harmonious in bed now, but also off it. I like you, and you… like me, right? Remarrying isn’t a matter of if but when.”
“Ah Rou , the Zhuang Residence can’t be without a mistress; otherwise, it would be a scandal,” Zhuang Qiting said, remembering the many nights he had survived on Li Yaru’s nightgowns and perfume. His heart felt cold and empty.
He had nearly worn out all her nightgowns. He couldn’t let the servants wash them.
After every use, he washed them by hand and dried them with a hairdryer. If the laundry staff saw, they might think the master was some kind of pervert.
At his age, he still cared about his reputation.
Li Yaru waved her hand dismissively, “No problem. Once Ayan and A Zhou marry, and the Zhuang Residence has young madams, there will be a new lady of the house.”
Zhuang Qiting’s tone turned cold, his commanding presence sharpening instantly. “When they get married, they have to move out. If anyone clings to the house for life, I’ll break their legs.”
Over the years, three sons had lived in the Zhuang Residence, breaking the two-person world he shared with Li Yaru.
He wasn’t happy about it. He was just waiting for the sons to move out so he could enjoy a peaceful time alone with his wife.
Yet, unexpectedly, Li Yaru had run away and refused to return.
Just as Zhuang Qiting was getting worked up, Li Yaru kicked out playfully, “Don’t show off your power, old man. They’re my sons. If you bully them, you’re bullying me!”
Zhuang Qiting’s lips tightened, his gaze softening as he glanced at his wife. “Ah Rou , is there somewhere I haven’t done well enough? You don’t want to come back.”
He had used all his tricks and was at his wit’s end. All he wanted was to remarry his wife. Was that too much to ask?
“You’re doing okay for now, pretty good,” Li Yaru said lazily, swaying her fair foot.
The sunset sank quickly at sea. Before long, the golden light dimmed, night descended upon them.
Seagulls circled in the fading glow, singing their songs. The yacht soon lit up all its lights, illuminating the space like broad daylight.
“Then come back, baby,” Zhuang Qiting whispered, reaching out to hold her foot, letting her rest it on his suit pants.
Li Yaru’s heel was held by something warmer and firmer. She wiggled her foot happily, giggling, “No way.”
She was comfortable and free at the Li Residence, surrounded by handsome bodyguards, servants, and managers.
She was having a blast and had no intention of remarrying.
As Zhuang Qiting was now just her bed companion, she was very satisfied.
At most, she might upgrade him to boyfriend status, but letting him be her husband and boss? Impossible.
Li Yaru still couldn’t fully trust Zhuang Qiting.