After Su Yue’s drama wrapped up, it ended earlier than anyone had expected — barely three months instead of the planned four or five.
Her acting had been exceptional, drawing everyone into the story, and her calm professionalism helped the entire crew fall into rhythm. As a result, Director Guan’s production efficiency had nearly doubled. Compared to the neighboring crew’s sluggish pace, theirs seemed like a divine miracle. It was no surprise that everyone in the team admired and adored Su Yue.
Feeling everyone’s warmth and respect, Su Yue often asked her assistant to bring back delicious dishes from the hotel to share with the crew — little gestures that filled the set with laughter and harmony.
But one person she continued to ignore was Xu Shen.
Despite his repeated attempts to apologize or strike up a conversation, Su Yue simply didn’t respond.
Jiang Ci had already told her that those vicious online rumors had been deliberately spread by Xu Shen’s agent — all to divert attention away from the actor’s secret relationship and shield his girlfriend from backlash. Su Yue understood his reasons, but she could not forgive him. She had been the one targeted and humiliated in the public eye. And Su Yue was not the type to forgive easily, especially when someone had schemed against her.
Since the truth about Xu Shen’s girlfriend had gone public, his popularity had plummeted. Online comments were now ruthless — many criticized him for selfishly dragging Su Yue into his mess, saying his actions didn’t match his once “cool and aloof” image (a term netizens used to describe male idols who appeared emotionally distant yet charismatic).
Meanwhile, Su Yue’s candidness stood in sharp contrast. When the media asked about her marriage, she had directly admitted that Jiang Ci was her husband, with not a trace of evasion. That bold honesty had won her the affection of countless fans — so much so that many now adored her and Jiang Ci as a “fierce yet affectionate power couple.”
The weather had grown colder. Fine, silvery snowflakes drifted from the sky, melting the moment they touched her skin. The winter wind outside howled through the windows, sharp and biting.
On the soft, warm bed, Su Yue stirred lazily in Jiang Ci’s arms. Her cheeks were flushed from sleep, her expression soft and unguarded. She hated winter — the bone-deep chill made her want to curl up like a cat and sleep endlessly.
Just as she tried to move, the man beside her reached out and pressed her head gently back against his chest. His voice was low, husky, and tinged with sleep. “Sleep a little longer.”
His long leg moved, effortlessly pinning her beneath the covers — possessive and unyielding.
Su Yue blinked toward the window. The gray morning sky was still scattered with drifting snow. She couldn’t tell the time.
“We need to get up. It’s your mother’s birthday today. We have to go back to the Jiang family,” she murmured drowsily, though her tone lacked conviction. In this weather, she’d rather stay buried under the quilts than step into the freezing air.
“No rush,” Jiang Ci muttered, eyes closed, pulling her closer. Her soft warmth against his chest was addictive — like holding a cloud.
Hearing his voice rumble against her ear, Su Yue’s eyelids drooped again, and she drifted back to sleep.
When she woke again, the clock hands had crept toward noon. Panic jolted her awake.
“Jiang Ci, get up! It’s already so late!” She scrambled to sit up, guilt washing over her. They were supposed to arrive early — as the eldest son and daughter-in-law, it would be improper to come later than the guests.
“Let me go!” she huffed, trying to push him off.
Jiang Ci cracked open his eyes, watching her flustered expression with faint amusement. The corner of his mouth curved lazily. Instead of letting go, he shifted — rolling her back beneath him.
The quilt fell over them again.
“We’re already late,” he said lazily, voice teasing. “A few more minutes won’t make a difference.” His hair was tousled, falling slightly over his forehead, and with his half-lidded eyes, he looked unexpectedly youthful — almost boyish.
Su Yue could only stare at him helplessly. “Stop joking around,” she scolded softly, though her tone held more affection than anger. “Even if we’re late, I still need to wash my face and change clothes.”
His dark eyes glinted with amusement as he leaned closer. “Your birthday is in less than a month, isn’t it?”
Su Yue blinked, puzzled by the sudden change of topic. Still, she nodded. “Yes. Why?”
“Have you prepared something?” she teased lightly, her lips curling into a smile.
“Something special?” Jiang Ci’s tone deepened, his lips quirking upward. “Of course I did. I’ve prepared a very special gift for you.”
Su Yue’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “You mean the ribbon you gave me before wasn’t it?”
“If you want it to be, it can be,” Jiang Ci drawled. “But there’s another gift. You’ll like this one even more.”
Excited, Su Yue wrapped her arms around his neck, her smile sweet and bright. “Then I’ll look forward to it.”
His gaze darkened, voice rough and teasing. “Just look forward to it.”
Her face flushed pink. Feeling the shift of his body against hers, Su Yue pushed him away, stammering, “Get up, seriously! We’re really late this time!” She slipped out of bed and darted into the bathroom like a startled rabbit.
Because it was Song Xiaoqing’s birthday, the Jiang family mansion was lively and grand. The driveway was filled with luxury cars, and the sound of chatter and laughter carried from inside.
By the time Jiang Ci, Su Yue, and little Jiang Haoyan arrived, it was already dinner hour.
The cold wind bit at their skin as they stepped out of the car. Su Yue, wearing a light blue low-necked dress (a formal winter gown paired with a thin white shawl), looked stunning — but the chill had her shivering.
Jiang Ci glanced down at her attire, his tone slightly scolding. “Cold? Who said you have to suffer for beauty?”
Su Yue sniffled, tucking her freezing hands into his arm. “Let’s just go in quickly. My nose is freezing.”
Jiang Ci chuckled lowly, wrapping an arm protectively around her shoulders as they followed the butler inside.
Inside the hall was already bustling. Guests mingled in elegant qipaos (traditional fitted dresses with side slits) and tailored suits. The air was heavy with the scent of perfume and fine wine. Most of the attendees were socialites and wives from wealthy families — all there to celebrate Song Xiaoqing’s birthday.
When Jiang Ci and Su Yue appeared at the entrance, the room seemed to still for a moment. Heads turned.
Whether it was Jiang Ci’s tall, commanding figure, Su Yue’s ethereal beauty, or little Jiang Haoyan’s soft cherub-like face — the trio drew every gaze in the hall.
“Isn’t that Jiang Ci?” one guest whispered. “Wasn’t he blind? He looks perfectly fine to me.”
“I heard his condition was incurable. How did his eyesight come back?”
“And that scar on his face — it’s barely visible now! I saw him once before; it looked… terrifying.”
“Now that he’s healed, I wonder if he’ll try to take back Hengyuan Group from Jiang Muhang.”
“And that’s his wife, Su Yue? She’s gorgeous! Did she get cosmetic surgery? She looks like a different person!”
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
At the center of the commotion, Song Xiaoqing, dressed elegantly in a deep red gown, turned toward the entrance. Her smile faltered. Seeing Jiang Ci arrive so late — and with Su Yue, no less — brought an edge to her mood.
It was already noon. Clearly, her eldest son had no regard for her as his mother. Her younger son, Jiang Muhang, had personally helped prepare the decorations that morning — how could she not favor him?
Before she could speak, Old Madam Song, seated nearby with her tea, spotted her eldest grandson and broke into a delighted smile. “Ah, that rascal finally decided to visit! Come, come here!”
Her tone was mock-scolding, but the warmth in her wrinkled eyes betrayed her affection.
Su Yue stepped forward with a sweet smile, bowing slightly. “Grandmother, happy birthday mother ,” she said, then offered polite greetings to Song Xiaoqing. The butler presented their gift — an elegantly wrapped box.
“Why are you so late? The banquet’s already started,” Song Xiaoqing said coolly.
“I overslept,” Jiang Ci replied, tone smooth as ever.
Su Yue’s lips twitched. She wanted to cover his mouth. Did he really have to say that?
Song Xiaoqing’s expression darkened.
But Old Madam Song only chuckled. “Good sleep makes you healthy. Come, sit down with me. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”
The guests exchanged glances — clearly amused. The old lady was openly defending him.
Nearby, Jiang Haoyan greeted politely, “Great-grandmother.”
“Oh, my sweet boy, come here!” Old Madam Song pulled the little one into her arms, her face glowing with joy. “Are you in kindergarten now?”
“Haohao goes to kindergarten. Haohao can write!” the little boy replied proudly.
The old lady laughed, patting his head. “Just like your father when he was young — clever and spirited.”
Jiang Ci leaned back on the sofa, arm around Su Yue, and said lazily, “He’s not nearly as clever as I was.”
Su Yue hid her smile. No wonder Grandma used to call him Ao Ao — such arrogance clearly ran deep.
Old Madam Song only laughed and scolded him affectionately.
At that moment, Jiang Muhang appeared at the doorway, his face composed. He greeted the elders, then looked at Jiang Ci and said calmly, “Brother, Grandpa wants to see you.”