“Xiaohua, since Mommy won’t be home for a few days, Auntie Zhang will take care of you. Remember—not to bite anyone’s butt.”
Ye Qingju stroked her piglet-girl with a sad face.
Ever since Qi Weiran said they’d all be going to A City together, she’d tried every trick in the book to gross him out and make him drop the idea.
As if cursed—he’d doubled down.
She couldn’t let her reluctance show too obviously.
Even without her stupid system warning her about OOC behavior, she knew that outright refusal carried consequences.
So when Qi Weiran and the excited Qi Xinian appeared at the door early that morning, Ye Qingju had already been waiting outside.
The dawn wind was icy and ghostly, making her look even paler.
In a flimsy dress and thin cardigan, she stood small and fragile—her sleepy dark eyes brightening into a dazzling smile when she saw Qi Weiran.
“Sir.”
He nodded. From looks alone, Ye Qingju was exactly his type—delicate, pitiable, endearing.
【Crap, I forgot to wear thermal leggings. I’m freezing.】
Except this voice wasn’t hallucinated this time—it came from inside her head.
That’s Ye Qingju’s inner monologue.
Once they were seated in the car, Qi Weiran glanced over at her—a woman who stared at him with admiration and jabbered on about meaningless things.
He was intrigued.
If that wasn’t her real nature, then why pretend? Why act so annoyingly…?
For the first time, he felt actual curiosity toward the wife he’d married for two years—and barely treated as anything more than furniture.
“What about that pig? Was it removed?”
His voice broke the silence—marking his first attempt at casual conversation.
Ye Qingju pretended to glisten with tears, begging for more time.
But inside, she thought: 【You’re jealous I know how to raise a pet! And I know when you were nine, you killed four rabbits and three turtles.】
Qi Weiran’s spine stiffened. He mentally reviewed everyone who knew the pig story… as potential suspects.
As he fell silent, Ye Qingju was pleased.
She’d always preferred to be invisible to him.
Their marriage had been two years of one-sided harassment—only Ye Qingju making all the moves. Gift breakfasts, stalker-level pursuit, forcing resignations of other women…
Over time, his tolerance turned into annoyance.
Eventually, he refused to see her. Security guards would escort her out of the office. He even moved into a different residence just to avoid her.
As Ye Qingju remembered all that, Qi Weiran too reflected on their history.
He didn’t just want to understand why she hated him. He wondered: Why the hell did she hide her true self so well?
He’d married her to honor his brother’s wish—but after years had passed with no affection, guilt alone kept him returning.
Hei Meilu knew exactly how powerful old money could be.
Back when he used to entertain wealthy women, he’d been discovered before by enraged husbands. He always survived.
But when Qi Weiran fired him—just like that—his reputation imploded overnight.
The very next morning, job inquiries turned into silence.
High-end recruiters who used to roll their eyes at his “small companies” now snubbed him respectfully.
In a designer suit now dusted with grime, Hei Meilu sat on a park bench. His polished loafers were dull, speckled with ash.
If he were the original host, he’d bounce back—fortitude forged by years of education and ambition.
But this body… it was shaped by superficial pleasures. The “real Hei Meilu” had no plan, no richness of thought.
He checked his banking app—his savings, a large legacy, nearly robbed away just hours earlier.
No money meant no access to high society, no rent for his rented villa, no lifestyle.
It had all slipped away in one night. How could so many catastrophes strike at once?
He was supposed to be in control—an insider. A guy with options.
Now, even his credit cards betrayed him.
Yet when a new message popped in—Ye Qingju’s in A City, sent by a detective—it became his last lifeline.
He cooked up a plan.
Why waste time seducing her? If he kidnapped her and extorted money from Qi Weiran later, it'd be pure profit.
And that brat who messed him over—he’d pay.
Fuelled by greed, he began plotting like a man dying of thirst.
Qi Weiran preferred quiet hotels. But this time? He specifically chose the most luxurious property in A City: the Grand Fengling Hotel.
When the hotel learned he was arriving, the general manager and his staff lined up to greet them.
Ye Qingju trailed behind Qi Weiran meekly.
【Look at how they stare at him—not as a guest, but as a god of wealth.】
Qi Weiran glanced at the manager again—he made the staff bristle as if they’d stolen something.
His assistant, Mr. Wan, was a short-named but capable fox of a man.
After seeing the VIP off, it was left to him to look after the adult and child.
Ye Qingju and he were old acquaintances—she’d been the one to push the previous female assistant out of the job.
Wan assistant bowed and smiled, then spoke to Qi Xinian in hushed tones:
“Young master, Mister Qi thought you should enjoy the hotel for a day and get acclimated.”
“Tomorrow, when Mister Qi visits for the new project, you’ll come with us.”
Qi Xinian’s eyes lit up.
“Really?”
Wan nodded.
Knowledge could be learned—but worldliness and negotiation skills developed through immersion from a young age.
It was clear Qi Weiran intended to groom his nephew as heir.
“Assistant Wan, since there’s no further business tonight, take him out to explore. I’m heading up to rest.” Ye Qingju yawned.
Wan simply smiled faintly, not asking if she wanted to come along—and took the boy away.
Ticks of habit: Ye Qingju changed rooms, tapping the card at the door—when the hotel room suddenly swung open.
She turned to see a familiar figure standing there.
Only one day had passed—he looked the same, but different; still wearing that polite, scholarly smile from their first encounter.
“Miss Ye, you stay here too?”
Ye Qingju responded with a polite but distant smile.
“Mr. Hei, what a coincidence.”
Then she shut the door and entered her room—no further small talk.
In Ye Qingju’s mind nothing had changed—but Hei Meilu’s wounded pride made him see contempt in her expression.
“Wait till I get my hands on that bitch…”
He pulled a pill bottle from his sleeve and smiled cruelly.
Meanwhile, inside her room, Ye Qingju was about to change into something more comfortable—when her phone buzzed.
Unknown number: I’m almost there…
She glanced briefly, then deleted it.
Then returned her focus to two messages from another number sent hours earlier:
«That guy might look sharp, but he's an idiot. Once I teased him, he fell for it immediately. Want me to send you the money?»
She tapped a reply almost instantly:
«No need. Wait for my instruction—then I’ll return everything tenfold.»
Because soon… the real Hei Meilu would be back.
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