The next day had already dawned when Jiang Ci received the call from Grandpa Jiang. He hung up slowly, tossing the phone aside with a careless thud before reaching over to pinch Su Yue’s cheek. She was nestled against his chest, lost in a deep, peaceful slumber. Perhaps it was the lingering warmth of the room, but her cheeks were flushed a soft, glowing pink.
Jiang Ci stretched out his long fingers and pulled the blanket down slightly to let her breathe. Watching her—so soft, so adorable—he felt a sudden, sharp tug of affection for her . Unable to resist, he leaned down and playfully nipped her cheek.
A slight sting broke through her dreams. Drowsily, Su Yue opened her eyes to find a pair of dark, shimmering eyes hovering inches from her own. She blinked, her mind a fog for a few seconds, before the realization hit her: Jiang Ci had actually bitten her.
“Tsk, the delicate little thing is finally awake.”
Jiang Ci pulled back, his gaze lingering on the faint teeth mark and the slight dampness he’d left on her pale skin. His usually icy expression softened into a genuine, private smile.
“Don’t bite my face… I haven’t even washed up yet, it’s filthy,” Su Yue muttered, her voice thick with sleep as she gave him a half-hearted shove.
“Get up.” Jiang Ci traced the mark he’d made with his thumb, his magnetic voice humming with a hint of dark pleasure.
Su Yue glanced at the window. “Why are you up so early? Do you have somewhere to be today?”
Jiang Ci propped his head up on one hand, lounging on his side with a dangerous grace. “Yeah,” he said lazily. “I’m taking you to see a good show.”
Hearing that, Su Yue’s eyes snapped wide open, her sleepiness vanishing in an instant.
After washing up, Su Yue traded her pajamas for a beige turtleneck sweater and slim-fit black jeans. She sat before the dressing table, gathering her hair to tie it up.
Jiang Ci had already changed. As was his custom, he was dressed in head-to-toe black; his long, structured overcoat made his tall figure look even more imposing. With long, effortless strides, he moved to stand behind her, watching her reflection in the mirror.
“Give it to me,” he said, extending a hand.
“Give you what?” Su Yue looked up, her eyes wide with confusion.
“The comb.” Jiang Ci took the natural wood comb from her hand. His fingers—marked by faint scars—gathered a section of her hair and began to pull the comb through it.
Su Yue’s hair was like liquid silk, possessing a dark, healthy sheen. As the soft ends brushed against his palm, Jiang Ci felt a sudden, sharp itch in his chest—like an ant nipping at his heart.
“Finished combing. What now?” he asked, playing with the strands, his face a mask of nonchalance despite the flutter in his pulse.
“I need to tie it up.” Su Yue reached for her box of elastics. “I can handle it.”
“Don’t move.” Jiang Ci tightened his grip on the comb. “Just a tie-up, right?”
“You’re going to help me? Do you even know how?”
Jiang Ci let out a scoff. “Tying hair? How hard can it be?” He gathered her long tresses into a bundle. “How do you want it? All of it up?”
“Yeah, just a ponytail.” Su Yue decided to let him have his way.
Jiang Ci’s grip softened. He used the comb in one hand and his fingers in the other to sweep the hair upward. Because it was so silky, a few strands playfully escaped his grasp, sliding through his fingers like water. He eventually secured it with a light pink band.
“Done.” He stepped back.
Su Yue studied her reflection. She had expected a mess, but the ponytail was perfect—sleek, centered, and neat. It gave her an energetic, youthful air. She shook her head, watching the ponytail sway. “Ao Ao , you’re actually quite good at this.”
Knowing this man thrived on praise and sweet talk, she turned around and looped her arms around his waist. Tilting her head back with a touch of Sajiao [the Chinese art of acting cute/coquettish to get one’s way], she smiled brilliantly. “It looks even better than when I do it myself!”
Jiang Ci looked down into her shimmering, almond-shaped eyes. The ponytail made her look incredibly innocent. He curled his lip in a smirk of pure pride. “Of course it does.” He glanced at the snow falling outside. “Which coat?”
“Anything is fine,” she replied, still admiring his handiwork.
Jiang Ci opened the wardrobe, a fresh, clean fragrance wafting out. He bypassed his own dark collection and pulled out a light, lotus-pink wool coat with a fuzzy trim. “Hands,” he commanded, holding the sleeves open for her.
“Why this one?” Su Yue asked, lingering in surprise.
Su’s mother doted on her and frequently sent batches of high-end clothes. While her mother had an excellent eye, she often chose styles that Su Yue found a bit too “girly,” leaving them tucked away in the back of the closet.
Jiang Ci raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like my choice?”
“No, it’s just… it’s very pink.” But she obediently slipped her arms into the sleeves.
“Tch.” Jiang Ci looked at her in the mirror. In the pink wool, with her hair tied back, she looked like a fresh flower bud on a branch—so delicate and innocent that one would feel guilty plucking it. But Jiang Ci was no “flower-cherisher.” He pinched her cheek and leaned in close. “Little Yue’er, be good. Stick your tongue out.”
Su Yue tilted her head back, blinking in confusion. Impatient, Jiang Ci lifted her chin and pressed his lips firmly against hers. Fine—if she wouldn’t do it, he’d find what he was looking for himself.
In the car, Su Yue kept her face buried in the fuzzy collar of her coat, her cheeks burning. She knew “the good show” was going to take place at the Jiang ancestral home.
“The old man called this morning. Says there’s something ‘important’ to discuss.” Jiang Ci leaned back, his arm draped possessively around Su Yue’s shoulders, pulling her into his side. “I’m just worried that if I go back, his medical team is going to be very busy today.”
Su Yue blinked. It was the first time she had heard someone describe “infuriating someone to the point of collapse” so elegantly. “Is something wrong?”
“The old man is looking for trouble, so I’m going to go get your revenge,” Jiang Ci said slowly. Su Yue understood immediately. This was about Song Nianyue’s confession that Jiang Xuan was the true mastermind of the banquet stabbing.
At the Jiang villa, the air was thick with tension. Even the “injured” Jiang Xuan was present. Recently, the scandal surrounding her had exploded; reporters had even successfully Pai-shua [stalking/filming secretly] her hospital ward, making it impossible for her to recover. So she had fled back to the family home for sanctuary.
“Muhang, are the documents ready?” Old Master Jiang, dressed in a formal gray Zhongshan suit [a traditional Chinese tunic suit], looked weary and pale.
“Yes, Grandpa. This is the transfer agreement for the shares of the Hengyuan Group.” Jiang Muhang handed over the file.
“Good. Where is that brat Jiang Ci?”
“Probably stuck in the morning rush hour traffic.”
Just then, Jiang Ci and Su Yue arrived. Despite the heavy snow, Jiang Ci took the time to meticulously brush the flakes off Su Yue’s pink coat before pulling her into the hall. He looked at the butler and gave a lazy, “Oh,” in response to the man’s frantic greeting.
Inside, the family was gathered. Jiang Ci didn’t bother with the seat his mother, Song Xiaoqing, offered. Instead, he led Su Yue to a sofa at a distance, crossing his long legs with an air of utter defiance.
“I heard you secured the Yongheng project,” Old Master Jiang began, his voice tight. “Is that true?”
“Do you think your ‘golden grandson’ is lying to you?” Jiang Ci smirked.
The Old Master glared. “You knew our group was also bidding for that project.”
“I heard.”
“And you only recently entered the fray?” the old man pressed.
“Correct,” Jiang Ci said. “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. Honestly, the project is beneath me.”
The Old Master nearly choked on his tea. “Then why compete with your own family? Are you doing this on purpose?”
“Old man, you’re stating the obvious. Of course I did it on purpose.” Jiang Ci shook his head. “Did you think I did it for the charity?”
“Brother, mind your tongue,” Jiang Muhang interjected. “Grandpa isn’t well.”
Jiang Ci raised an eyebrow. “Don’t jinx him. I’ve seen his health report; he’s stronger than you are.” He turned to Muhang, his eyes narrowing. “Why are you really here? Oh, right. You wanted me to take down the news about your wife.”
“She’s a Jiang,” Song Xiaoqing added. “If her reputation is ruined, the whole family loses face.”
Jiang Ci gave his mother a dark, inscrutable look. “You suddenly care a lot about ‘face,’ don’t you?”
“Big brother,” Jiang Muhang said, patting Jiang Xuan’s hand. “I know you’re upset about the banquet. But this rumor that she hired a hitman? It’s absurd. It’s a fabrication.”
“Fabricated?” Jiang Ci’s gaze shifted to Jiang Xuan. The woman’s hands were trembling in her lap, her face pale as parchment. “What do you think, Jiang Xuan?”
“I… I can apologize to Yueyue,” Jiang Xuan stammered, tears instantly welling up. “But I didn’t hire anyone! If I did, why would he attack me? I was stabbed!”
Su Yue watched them. Seeing Jiang Ci—arrogant, sharp, and utterly devoid of “gentlemanly” mercy toward the weeping woman—her heart fluttered. He was doing this for her.
“Brother, I know my wife. She doesn’t have a malicious bone in her body,” Muhang insisted.
Tch.
Jiang Ci pulled a digital voice recorder from his pocket. “Song Nianyue is currently in a mental hospital. She’s confessed everything. This is a recording of your ‘cooperation.'”
Jiang Xuan’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with horror. “Impossible! How could she record?”
“She’s a smart woman,” Jiang Ci smiled coldly. “She kept a backup in case you betrayed her. Do you want me to play it for the room?”
“Don’t!” Jiang Xuan shrieked, her voice turning shrill. “Song Nianyue is lying! I never wanted to kill her! I only wanted to disfigure her!”
The room went deathly silent. The mask of the “Sweet, Kind Jiang Xuan” had finally cracked. She realized what she had said and covered her mouth in shock, tears streaming down her face.
“Disfigure her?” Jiang Ci’s voice was a low, dangerous whisper.
Jiang Xuan shook her head frantically. “No, I… I had a lapse in judgment! Everyone said only one of us could be in the entertainment industry. I wanted to stay… I just wanted her to leave…”
Song Xiaoqing, furious at being implicated, snapped at her, “So you’re blaming me now? You committed a crime and want to pin it on me?”
Jiang Ci turned to Su Yue, his thumb tracing her cheek. “Tsk. Such a beautiful face. And someone wanted to ruin it out of petty jealousy.”
He looked back at the room, his expression vanishing into a mask of ice. “I don’t have many virtues, but I am very good at ‘fair trades.’ You wanted to ruin Su Yue’s face. You wanted to force her out of her career. So, I will give both of those fates back to you.”
Jiang Ci’s philosophy was simple: if you hurt him, he would repay you tenfold. But if you touched Su Yue—his heart, his Ni-lin [the ‘inverse scale’ of a dragon—the one spot that, if touched, provokes a lethal rage]—he would destroy your world.
🌸 Hey! Translating this story takes a LOT of time ⏰💦
If you liked it, leave a comment 📝💖 — it really makes my day!
Your support keeps the story alive and helps me deliver the next chapter faster! 🚀📖