The first year of their marriage, Li Yaru was still studying on Hong Kong Island.
She felt utterly embarrassed—among her classmates, she was the only one who was married.
Every time Zhuang Qiting came to pick her up after class, she would act secretive.
Either she’d make him park in some out-of-the-way corner, or forbid him from driving that conspicuous Rolls-Royce with the flashy license plate number “1.”
She dreaded drawing attention and inviting gossip.
Once was tolerable, but as time went on, Zhuang Qiting grew increasingly annoyed.
Inside the luxury car, fragrant with the scent of perfume, the windows had been fitted with curtains.
The blazing summer sunlight was filtered, leaving the interior cool and soft.
Li Yaru curled up in the corner of the back seat, her head hanging low, lips pouting, looking every bit the unwilling subject of a lecture.
“Li Yaru, we were married openly and properly, our wedding in the newspapers all over Hong Kong Island. Why are you so afraid of being seen?”
“If it weren’t for the fact that your friends, relatives, classmates, and teachers all know, I’d have thought I was your secret lover.”
His voice was low and cold, his tone none too pleasant. He just glanced at the girl, and ordered, “Look at me, Ah Rou.”
Li Yaru was burning with irritation. She looked up, her seductive eyes glaring fiercely at him: “Look, look, look—why should I look? You think you can scold me like I’m your subordinate?!”
Zhuang Qiting saw her childish expression and felt helpless; his voice softened a little. “Ah Rou, I’m your husband. Why can’t I be seen?”
Li Yaru huffed, rubbing her feet together and kicking off her dainty low-heeled shoes. “You know exactly why. I’m still a student, and I got married. In my whole class, I’m the only one who’s married. Isn’t that embarrassing?”
Zhuang Qiting let out a chuckle, his long, dark eyes narrowing at her.
“It’s not so strange to be married and have children while still a student. Plenty of people had arranged marriages in secondary school. My mother, at your age, was already expecting her second child.”
“Shut up! Who said anything about having children?!” Just hearing the words “have children” made Li Yaru’s heart tremble.
She lunged forward to cover his mouth, pinching his arm in the process.
The always steady Rolls-Royce Silver Spur braked sharply just then.
Li Yaru nearly lost her balance, but Zhuang Qiting was quick to wrap his arm around her waist, using his other hand to shield her head from bumping into the window.
“Why are you always so reckless? Did you hurt yourself?”
Li Yaru shook her head, whispering no. She was a little afraid he’d scold her or spank her, so she just bit her lip and lay on his chest.
From the front, the driver apologized, “Sir, Madam, sorry, a dog suddenly ran out.”
“Just focus on driving.” Zhuang Qiting said coldly, raising the divider in the car.
The girl in his arms was unusually well-behaved, her body exuding a rich floral scent mixed with the heat of summer and her own faint fragrance. Altogether, it filled his senses.
Zhuang Qiting knew exactly why she was suddenly so docile—she was afraid he’d scold her again for being reckless.
Feeling a ripple in his heart, he pinched her cheek gently, his gaze half-smiling. “Afraid I’ll spank you?”
Li Yaru dared not voice her anger, glaring at him instead.
“You little thing, knowing to be afraid is progress. Next time, don’t fidget in the car. Anything can happen in a moment—what if you hit your eye? I’ve told you countless times, safety comes first. Your temper is just too prone to trouble.”
Zhuang Qiting lectured her in a serious, almost parental tone.
Li Yaru couldn’t stand him acting like an older brother, a father, or some boss—especially since he was the one always being handsy in the car.
If he wasn’t touching her, he was kissing her, even making her pull her panties aside and sit right up against his ugly stick.
Li Yaru rolled her eyes.
Zhuang Qiting pinched her cheek again, “Don’t curse me in your heart. I’m your husband.”
“So what if you’re my husband? I can still curse you.” Li Yaru fumed inwardly. A husband should be scolded every day!
“You little thing, a man scolded around by his wife all the time—what kind of man is that? Wouldn’t that make him a loser?”
Li Yaru was speechless at his feudal thinking. “So by your logic, a man who scolds his wife is a real man?”
Zhuang Qiting frowned, answering seriously, “A man like that isn’t even worth calling a person. What’s going on in that little head of yours?”
“You’re always threatening to spank me, so you’re not worth calling a person either.”
Zhuang Qiting couldn’t help laughing at her sulking expression. He cupped her chin and precisely kissed her soft, full lips. “That’s not called spanking—it’s called… loving you.”
Li Yaru got goosebumps, shoving his face away with a look of distaste. “Love, my ass. You just like fooling around with me, you perverted freak.”
Zhuang Qiting’s brows knit. This little thing, what nonsense is she spouting!
He taught her, guided her, pampered her, loved her—he wanted to wrap his whole heart around her, and this was the image she had of him?
Frustrated, but with no way to take it out on her, he just patted her butt. “Let me hold you, darling. Sit up.”
Unwillingly, Li Yaru climbed onto his lap, curling up in his solid, muscular embrace, her bare feet swinging in the car.
At least this damn man always kept himself clean, smelled nice, and was warm—so sitting on his lap was actually comfortable.
Seeing her so lazy and content, like a satisfied cat, Zhuang Qiting’s expression softened as well.
Stroking her long hair, he asked her some questions about her studies, making her go through her textbooks and quizzing her on whether she was paying attention in class.
Li Yaru was fed up. School was hard enough; now she couldn’t even relax after class.
Zhuang Qiting, holding her, flipped through her ancient literature textbook—the only thing on the cover was her name, it was cleaner than her face.
“What you’re learning is pretty basic—just the fundamentals of literature…”
“Come on, Ah Rou, explain—”
Li Yaru was momentarily dumbfounded, stammering, “Jian’an Style… is from the late Eastern Han… um… the literary style of the Three Caos and the Seven Masters of Jian’an…”
After stumbling over her answer, Zhuang Qiting asked her who the Three Caos were, who the Seven Masters were.
There were so many names, how could she remember! She could barely remember the names of all the Zhuang Family members, let alone this.
He’d be better off quizzing her on math—she was a whiz at accounting!
Frustrated, Li Yaru kicked the seat in front.
“Ugh! Zhuang Qiting, you’re so annoying! I study all day at school, I’m exhausted, and you won’t give me a break! Are you my husband or my dad? Even my dad doesn’t quiz me on homework! If I’d known you’d be like this, I wouldn’t—”
“You wouldn’t what.”
A suddenly cold voice cut her off.
Her mouth snapped shut. She bit her lip and peeked at the man’s expressionless face, feeling aggrieved.
She wanted to say: If her days kept getting worse, she’d have never gotten married!
Who’s better, anyway!
“Wouldn’t what, darling? Tell me the truth, I won’t get mad.” Zhuang Qiting tossed the textbook aside.
These were just small matters. Even if she hated school and never wanted to go, he could get her the most impressive degree in the world.
Money and power could do anything, but what use was a fake qualification?
He just wanted her to learn more, cultivate herself, even if it was just for fun—it was still meaningful.
He’d already planned her path: after graduation, she’d intern at Shenghui Group, learn about investment and management by his side, get to know the network, and he’d teach her how to secure her place as the Zhuang Family Young Madam.
Once she was ready, she could start her own company or take up a position at Shenghui—he’d arrange it all.
In short, as long as Li Yaru listened to him and behaved, her life would be smooth, brilliant, and bright.
She, however, was never obedient.
Intimidated by the look in his eyes, Li Yaru’s heart pounded, and she dropped her head. “It’s nothing…”
“Are you regretting marrying me?” Zhuang Qiting said calmly.
“No, no, no.” Li Yaru shook her head so fast it was like a rattle-drum.
Heaven help her, if she really said she regretted it, she wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight—he’d probably have her seeing stars.
That thing of his—terrifyingly formidable. She’d asked her friends: normal men could last thirty or forty minutes, and that was already something.
Even the guys at clubs had to take medicine to last three or four rounds a night.
If Zhuang Qiting didn’t hold back and got wild, even four times wouldn’t satisfy him.
“Really, no, Husband.” Li Yaru knew when to yield and when to resist. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard.
“You’re the most eligible bachelor on Hong Kong Island. Which socialite doesn’t want to marry you? I still don’t know how I, an ordinary girl, managed to snag you. It must be fate—we’re destined for each other!”
Zhuang Qiting let out a low laugh, lips curling. He was long immune to her sweet talk, but her calling him “husband” and kissing him on her own still made him feel good.
A newlywed wife, so cute and mischievous—he really didn’t know what to do with her.
He just hoped that after two more years, when she graduated, she’d be a little more mature.
“Say it again, Ah Rou.”
“Husband, husband.”
Li Yaru grinned. She could call him that—it wasn’t like she’d lose a pound. Anyway, he was her husband, though the word felt too sweet for her taste.
She preferred to call him Zhuang Qiting, or “old thing!” Since he always called her “little thing,” such an embarrassing name, she could only answer in kind.
“I want Japanese food for dinner.” Having soothed Zhuang Qiting, Li Yaru immediately started thinking about what to eat.
“Alright. We’ll have Japanese food.”
How could Zhuang Qiting refuse? If she wanted dragon liver or phoenix marrow, he’d find a way to get it for her.
With his wife’s scent filling his arms and her clinging to him, his breathing grew uneven.
He pinched her chin and kissed her deeply, tongue exploring her cool mouth, conquering every corner.
In the narrow space of the car, softened sunlight streamed in and the air conditioning whirred, yet the atmosphere was burning hot.
If Zhuang Qiting didn’t deliberately restrain himself, he could be aroused by Li Yaru at any moment.
Just holding her was enough to lose control, let alone kissing her.
His lips wandered down her delicate neck, eyes half closed, inhaling her natural fragrance.
His arms tightened even further, holding her closer and closer.
Unwilling to let go, he used his teeth to undo her shirt buttons, slowly biting each one.
Her collar fell open, revealing the fully rounded curve of her breasts, pale skin cupped by black lace, rising and falling with her breath before his eyes.
Zhuang Qiting’s eyes burned hot, his breath heavy and spilling onto her skin as he bit down, grinding his teeth against her.
Li Yaru gave a muffled cry, looking down to see that dark head gnawing at her like a dog with a bone.
This damn man wasn’t young anymore—he looked thirty, and still hadn’t been weaned!
She dared not push him away, enduring the delicate sucking, her gaze wandering, the closed space closing in, ears filled with his rough breathing.
Her breasts became the focus, sucked at like a straw.
The force of it brought tears to Li Yaru’s eyes; the ache made her cry out, and in the end she couldn’t bear it anymore, slapping Zhuang Qiting on the head.
“What are you… Are you drinking a beverage? There’s nothing there!”
The temperature in the car was comfortable, but Li Yaru was sweating. She couldn’t take it.
What was he sucking for! She only did that herself when sucking marrow from pork bones or slurping black sugar pearls from the bottom of a milk tea!
Zhuang Qiting’s eyes were bright red, his gaze dark with desire. He looked up at her. “I thought there was something inside. The white kind.”
“You…” Li Yaru’s face burned, and she bit her lip. “Haven’t you studied biology… I haven’t had a baby, where would there be anything?”