The headache-inducing ringtone came to an abrupt halt.
Su Yue turned to Jiang Ci in disbelief. Could he really be this easy to coax?
A flicker of joy bubbled in her heart.
Jiang Haoyan’s chubby hand tugged at the hem of her clothes. His wide, innocent eyes stared at her in a mixture of fear and curiosity, still bright with a childlike gleam.
“Dad?” he turned and looked up at Jiang Ci uncertainly.
“No need,” Jiang Ci answered coldly.
Su Yue leaned in slightly and whispered, her voice laced with sharp sarcasm, “What? Do you still plan to bring in another woman to serve and care for you? I’m not letting Xiao Haohao get mistreated again.”
“Besides, just now… didn’t you choose to believe me? That must mean you think I have some good character, right?”
Jiang Ci’s lips curled faintly, a trace of mockery playing across his scarred face. “I don’t trust your character,” he replied flatly. “That woman’s voice was panicked, her words shaky—obviously lying.”
He might be blind, but his senses were far sharper than the average person’s. He Xiaoqin’s voice had betrayed her—rushed, unstable, too frantic.
Su Yue’s eyes widened. So, in the end, he hadn’t trusted her at all—he’d simply deduced who was lying by the sound of their voice?
“And just now,” she said dully, “when I offered to take care of you, your anger vanished. I guess you’re not mad anymore?”
Jiang Ci raised a pale brow. Though half of his face was marred by scars, the unblemished side carried a mocking laziness. They said Jiang Ci’s looks were ruined, that he was hideous and revolting, but Su Yue found him… strangely handsome.
“You think someone like that deserves my anger?” he asked casually.
Oh. So, she had been self-indulgent after all.
The afternoon sun blazed fiercely overhead, casting everything in a harsh light. It was the kind of weather best spent dozing indoors. Su Yue happily got up from the sofa. Outside, the housekeeper had arrived with over a dozen workers, all waiting in the yard.
“Let’s remove all the flowers in the back garden today. Not a single one left,” she instructed, standing under the shade of a tree.
“Yes, Miss. Any other instructions?” the housekeeper asked.
Su Yue’s gaze landed on the lonely swing set in the grass. Little Jiang Haoyan was struggling to push his cat coriander on the swing. After a moment’s thought, she added, “Have someone check the swing. Make sure it’s secure and repaint it. Let’s go with… light blue.”
“I’ll inform the workers.” The housekeeper, who had served the Jiang family for most of his life, knew well what kind of person Jiang Ci was. Regardless of his current power or status, the housekeeper’s attitude remained unwavering. Toward Su Yue, he remained equally respectful.
“Thank you, Uncle Zhang.”
“It’s my duty, Miss.”
After finishing her instructions, Su Yue made her way to Jiang Haoyan, watching silently as he carefully pushed the cat on the swing.
The little boy glanced up and saw her. He pouted, turned around, and show her his small back—refusing to speak.
Here came the bad woman again.
Su Yue didn’t say a word, simply smiled and waited.
After a moment of inner struggle, the little guy couldn’t help but sneak another glance. His large eyes locked with her gentle smile, and he froze. His pale, pouty face was simply too adorable.
“Do you want to swing?” Su Yue asked, crouching down. “Want me to lift you up and push you?”
Jiang Haoyan’s eyes lit up instantly, filled with longing. But the next second, caution clouded them. He clutched the coriander , pouted again, and walked away unsteadily.
He wanted to play—but he mustn’t give in!
Hmph. He wouldn’t believe a bad woman could be that nice.
That evening, after her shower, Su Yue lounged on the sofa while Jiang Ci fumbled in front of the closet, trying to find clothes. The nurse who used to assist him was gone, and now he had to manage by himself.
Before long, his expression grew darker and darker.
“Didn’t you say you’re my wife and supposed to take care of me?” he asked.
“I recall you turned me down earlier today,” Su Yue replied lazily, watching him with amusement. “You rejected my offer to care for you, didn’t you? And now you’re asking?”
Jiang Ci didn’t respond. He grabbed a bath towel, fumbled his way to the bathroom, and disappeared inside.
Su Yue pouted, smug. No headache, no ringtone—clearly, he wasn’t angry. She’d wait until he asked her directly. She didn’t want to be proactive only to get mocked for it.
Her fingers drifted to her belly. Was it her imagination, or had it shrunk a little?
Curious, she went to the corner and pulled out the scale.
Yesterday, she’d weighed herself: over 150 pounds. A shocking number, especially considering she used to maintain herself at around 90. Slim, photogenic, camera-ready.
It was the first time in her life she’d broken into triple digits.
She exhaled deeply and stepped onto the scale.
The number that appeared made her eyes widen.
She had lost five pounds since yesterday!
So it wasn’t an illusion. She had actually lost weight.
Delighted yet confused, Su Yue touched her stomach again, frowning. Even with a light diet and small appetite, losing five pounds in a single day was unheard of.
Could something be wrong?
She made a mental note to get a new scale tomorrow.
Not long after, the bathroom door opened and Jiang Ci emerged—dripping wet.
Su Yue’s eyes unintentionally dropped to the floor. His bare feet stepped onto the soft grey carpet, and her gaze lifted slowly, taking in the sight before her.
And then—her breath caught.
This man… he was doing it on purpose!
His upper body was bare, droplets of water trickling down defined abs, and the bath towel wrapped around his waist looked like it could fall any second.
Su Yue’s face burned.
She had worked with countless male stars. She’d seen more than her fair share of abs, but none of them compared to Jiang Ci.
He walked over to the bed and sat down, frowning slightly. Then, as if sensing her gaze, he tilted his head in her direction.
“Why?” he asked lazily. “Want to keep staring at my naked body?”
“What?!” Su Yue snapped out of her daze.
“You’re not going to get me clothes?” he huffed.
The scar on the left side of his face had gone pale from the water, and though it was still hideous, his deep, dark eyes beneath it drew attention like a magnet.
Su Yue suddenly recalled the first night she met him. He had terrified her then—his aura cold and dangerous. But now, she wasn’t scared. She could tell when he was angry, after all.
“Oh, so you’re asking for my help?” she asked sweetly.
Jiang Ci leaned back on his hands, long legs stretching out with ease. “Help if you want to. But I don’t like sleeping in uncomfortable clothes…” He started to tug at the towel, the motion slow and threatening. “You don’t mind if I sleep naked, right?”
“Wait, wait!” Su Yue hurried over. “I’ll get it for you.”
Honestly—how shameless could this man be?
She opened the closet, rummaging past rows of identical black suits until she found a silky black pajama set. Perfect.
“Here. Pajamas,” she said, dropping them in his lap before fleeing back to the sofa.
Then came the sound of rustling fabric—and his voice again.
“What about underwear?”
Su Yue’s hand jerked mid-scroll on her phone. Thank goodness her skin was naturally dark—no one could see her blush.
“Wait a moment,” she murmured.
She returned to the wardrobe, opened a drawer, and found a stack of neatly folded black underwear. Grabbing one without looking, she walked over and handed it to him, eyes locked on the ceiling the entire time to avoid any accidents.
The sound of dressing resumed.
Just as she breathed a sigh of relief, his voice rose again, nonchalant but firm.
“Blow-dry my hair.”
“You’re asking for too much,” Su Yue grumbled. “Didn’t you just say you didn’t want my care?”
Jiang Ci, now dressed in smooth black silk, looked even paler and more fragile. He smiled faintly, “I’m asking now, aren’t I?”
Su Yue gritted her teeth. “Did the nurse blow-dry your hair?”
“No.” A low chuckle escaped his lips. “Only a wife has that privilege.”
She’d really shot herself in the foot this time.
Plugging in the hairdryer, she asked him to sit near the headboard. Standing behind him, she started to blow-dry his hair.
The night outside was cool. The crescent moon hung sharply in the sky, its pale light spilling into the quiet, stripped-back garden.
Inside, the only sound was the soft whir of the hairdryer.
Su Yue’s fingers threaded through his hair. Contrary to what she’d expected, it was soft—softer than her own.
Jiang Ci sat still, eyes closed, inhaling the faint scent of her shampoo mixed with a milky sweetness that seemed to linger around her.
Eventually, she turned off the dryer and ran her fingers through his now-dry hair.
“All done,” she said.
There was no response.
She leaned closer—he was asleep, eyes closed peacefully.
“Jiang Ci?” she called softly, patting him.
“Mm,” he answered, then lay back on the bed and stretched out with a faint sigh.
Su Yue put away the dryer and returned to the sofa.
Lying sideways, she glanced longingly at the spacious bed.
So big. So comfortable. So unfair.