When He Lei came back from buying the groceries, he went prying as to what the situation was like now. The atmosphere seemed peaceful enough, untinged by a foreboding cold. Emboldened, he treaded towards the noise coming from the kitchen. He had thought it was his young master helping his wife to wash the vegetables; instead, he was greeted by the sight of them chatting happily together. He exhaled in relief. The whole time he was out, he had been fretting over whether his young master had flown into a violent rage.
“I’ve bought the groceries you requested, Young Mistress.”
Tang Qiu accepted the bag with thanks. Behind her, Jiang Shaocheng lifted a brow at him from his wheelchair. He Lei’s heart skipped a beat, and he all but fled from the kitchen.
Today’s meal was a satisfying one, with a variety of dishes. After Tang Qiu had retired to their room, Jiang Shaocheng had He Lei follow him to the study.
“I told you to get rid of Ning Mufan. Why haven’t you brought me any news?”
A chill raced down He Lei’s spine. “I’ve already informed the Ning family to send him overseas, but he refused…”
“He said my wife was his girlfriend. What did you find out about it?”
“Someone was slandering the young mistress on the school’s social media page. A woman named Niu Caijie has been Ning Mufan’s longtime admirer, and resented Tang Qiu for being his junior.” He Lei took out his tablet. “The post has been deleted, which means whoever uploaded it didn’t want their identity to be found out. They must have used some kind of special technology to remove it. When the commotion happened, though, it was Qian Hongwei who said the young mistress was dating Ning Mufan.”
“Who?” Jiang Shaocheng’s brows furrowed.
He Lei coughed awkwardly. “Qian Hongwei is the son of Second Young Master Qian, remember? His aunt is Jiang Ming’s mother… which makes him Jiang Ming’s…”
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Jiang Shaocheng could have laughed. So his brother was trying to trick him into a divorce by using Qian Hongwei to set a trap for him. And his wife, the naive girl, thought it had been nothing but a misunderstanding. “Since Jiang Ming cares so much about his reputation, see to it that he eats his fill of humiliation somehow,” he said.
“I will,” He Lei assured him with a nod.
“How do you think I should make Ning Mufan stay away from my wife?”
“It… it might not be possible to force him to stay away, but I’ll try. You should remind the young mistress to be wary of people’s intentions, so she’ll avoid him of her own accord.” He Lei didn’t know if it was the answer his young master wanted, but it was his honest one. It wasn’t as if Tang Qiu could resolve matters of the heart by avoiding Ning Mufan–no, she had to dig the issue up by the roots.
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“I did. She said she doesn’t want to divorce me. She even admitted that she likes me.” Jiang Shaocheng unconsciously thumbed his lips, as if savoring the imprint of her mouth on his. She was certainly far more delicious than any meal she could make.
The corner of He Lei’s mouth quirked. His young master had been furious just a few hours ago; now he was smiling dreamily. Whatever relationship he and Tang Qiu had, it wasn’t anything ordinary.
“I’ll make sure something happens to Ning Mufan so he’ll stay away from the young mistress.”
***
Later that night, while Tang Qiu got ready for bed, Jiang Shaocheng was reading a book on Marxism–a ponderous read, but he seemed engrossed in it. Her husband was so clever, she remarked.
“It’s late. We should sleep.”
Jiang Shaocheng agreed; he had been waiting for her to say that. His book on Marxism actually hid another, smaller tome inside, titled ‘How to Control Your Woman’. He carefully put it away before pushing his wheelchair towards Tang Qiu.
“Qiu, now that it’s our first night after coming to a… mutual understanding, wouldn’t it be a pity to go to sleep so soon?”
“What do you have in mind? Come, I’ll help you onto the bed.”
He obliged. He was capable of supporting himself with his arms, but if Tang Qiu was offering to help him, he wasn’t going to turn her down. She bent slightly beneath his weight, and he suppressed a smile, taking advantage of her imbalance to pull her onto the bed with him. “Did I hurt you, Qiu?” he asked with mock-concern.
He was lying on top of her–rather heavily–but Tang Qiu said nothing. “I can’t move my legs,” he said regretfully. “What should we do?”
“Ask He Lei to help.” Tang Qiu’s nose scrunched up in exertion as she tried, and failed, to push him off.
“He’s asleep.” This close, her husband’s eyes were dark with intensity. “Why don’t you kiss me and give me a boost of strength?”
Tang Qiu eyed him skeptically. “With a kiss?”
“Just try it,” he said without a trace of humor.
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