After Marrying the Wrong Crazy Husband, I Ran Away with His Baby - Chapter 139

YuanYuan’s birthday fell on the sixth day of the third lunar month. According to Qin Mohuai, her twenty-fifth birthday had to be celebrated in grand style.

On that very day, a massive cruise ship named Iris—so large one could drive cars on its deck—was anchored on the calm, windless sea.

The sun was sinking toward the horizon.

Since Xia Yuan had been born at 6:30 in the evening, that would be the precise moment for candles, wishes, and cake cutting.

“Happy birthday, YuanYuan!”
“Our fairy is gorgeous!”
“May our fairy be happy for a lifetime!”

A few radiant young ladies in evening gowns surrounded Xia Yuan, each planting a kiss on her flawless cheek, leaving bold and delicate lipstick marks that paraded across her snow-white skin.

From a distance, Qin Mohuai’s brows knit together ever so slightly, even the sharp crease of his tailored black trousers seemed to carry a sudden edge.

At the sight of him, the girls scattered like startled birds.

With composed elegance, Qin Mohuai pulled out a wet wipe and carefully erased every trace of lipstick from her face. When his finger brushed against her lips, he pressed harder than necessary, dark with possessiveness—thankfully no one had kissed here.

“Baby, are you drunk again?”

“Noo, I only drank the kind without alcohol~”

So, she was at least a little tipsy.

Even when it was non-alcoholic, if she drank too much, this was always the result. Hopeless.

Qin Mohuai wrapped an arm around her waist. “Come on. Time to cut the cake.”

“Yay!”

Never in her life had she been given such a grand, joyous birthday. If only Grandma could have been here…

Though she had once earned enough money to move Grandma into a bright, spacious apartment, the old woman’s frail health had only let her enjoy it briefly.

“Ah-Huai, if I could go back to eighteen… I don’t think I could’ve done better than this.”

“You’ve already been stronger and more diligent than most. Baby, don’t burden yourself with so many chains. There will always be someone who aches for you.”

“Who?” Her fair little face tilted upward, eyes darting around curiously.

Qin Mohuai gave a low laugh. He’d deal with this mischievous wife later.

The first slice of cake she cut went to Zhenbao, the second to Qin Mohuai, the third and fourth to her parents…

By then, her wrist was sore, so she handed the knife to Butler Wang to portion it evenly.

Word had it this three-tier cake cost eight figures, topped with two tiny figurines of Qin Mohuai and Xia Yuan.

“Why is your figure standing on my birthday cake?”

Qin Mohuai drew her against his cool, white shoulders, his voice low and steady. “Probably because I want to share your lifespan, Baby.”

Her breath caught. Crystal eyes lifted to the refined man before her, and under the blooming fireworks, they kissed.

The fireworks continued exploding across the sky.

Yet Qin Mohuai, ever mindful of her frail health, would never let her linger in the cold night air. Almost to the second, after five minutes he guided her back to the presidential suite.

“Baby, you can still watch from the room.”

“It’s prettier outside.” But once inside, she obediently watched through the windows until the final burst.

Her eyes ached faintly, so she rubbed them and pulled up the videos Butler Wang had sent her.

Zhenbao, perched on the bed, ate cake. After his bath, he dried his soft black hair himself. In starry blue pajamas, he diligently practiced German with his tutor, then calligraphy strokes before bed, and even picked up a junior high physics book…

By the last clip, the fairy’s smile had faded. She tugged Qin Mohuai closer to watch again.

“When did Zhenbao get interested in physics? His goal was always you—he wanted to be a businessman who contributes to society. Shouldn’t he be reading finance or economics?”

She had only realized her son was a prodigy after he could do triple-digit multiplication in his head. Now that he was flipping through physics textbooks, perhaps it wasn’t so far-fetched.

Qin Mohuai’s gaze darkened slightly, his deep, magnetic voice soothing, “Zhenbao not only loves physics, he loves math. He may grow into a scientist. Qin Jingye has long sponsored Professor Zhang. When Zhenbao is older, we can let him apprentice there.”

Xia Yuan glared at him.

“At dinner with Professor Zhang last time, sure, he was brilliant, but we couldn’t even follow his lecture. And he muttered to himself constantly—totally weird.”

“Qin Mohuai, Zhenbao’s goal is you! I want him to be a steady, reliable businessman like you. Not some self-talking oddball. If he turns into that, I’ll cry myself to death!”

That night, Xia Yuan wore a red backless dress, her luminous white skin stunningly seductive, drawing Qin Mohuai’s hand to rest on her back all evening.

Even when he stepped away briefly, he draped his suit jacket over her shoulders—earning teasing jabs from Pei Jingchen and Yang Yi that he was acting like a doting old dad.

Qin Mohuai didn’t care. Any man would mind. If someone didn’t, they weren’t a man.

“Wife, whatever you say, goes.”

Though his eyes sometimes shifted away, they always returned to her bare back within a minute.

So very fair. So very beautiful.

Noticing his indulgent gaze, she suddenly spun, yanked on his tie, and brought her dazzling face close.

“You are not turning my adorable son into some mumbling science freak. If you do, I’ll never forgive you!”

This man… the older he got, the more dangerous he became.

Before, she could read a little of his mind. Now, not at all. And yet, every word he spoke carried hidden weight.

If he’d voiced “apprenticing under Professor Zhang,” it was no whim—he must’ve planned it long before.

Qin Mohuai’s broad hand braced against the wall, veins raised, his head dipping as he let her toy with his tie. His voice came hoarse and thick.

“I can only promise one thing. I won’t interfere with Zhenbao’s choice. If he truly wishes to pursue physics, I’ll support him with everything I have.”

A spark flickered in Xia Yuan’s mind an idea just out of reach—before his kiss drowned it in chaos.

The red backless dress he both loved and hated slid from her body, pooling at her feet like a decadent camellia bloom.

After her birthday, Xia Yuan won the Xiangzhou Golden Melody Award for Best Lyricist with her smash hit Rose of Thorns, which swept across Asia.

Once the broadcast aired, netizens uncovered that the founder of Love Summer Records and the wife of the Qin Group’s Chairman… were the same woman!

Fans flooded the comments of her lyrics with a new nickname: “The Queen’s Chosen.”

Sharp-eyed fans noticed that for every three songs she wrote, at least one singer became a star.

The weight of “The Queen’s Chosen” was self-evident.

Marketing accounts exaggerated further calling her a top-tier lyricist, one of Asia’s top three golden pens, even the “Godmother of Pop.”

Idol fans begged under her social media posts for her to notice their favorites.

But Xia Yuan herself never saw—her accounts were managed by assistants. Besides, she had just passed the entrance exams for Xiangzhou University’s Chinese Literature graduate program.

Her new advisor was none other than Professor Li Zhiyuan, who had once supervised her undergraduate thesis. She would soon report for classes.

Why grad school?

Because once, while accompanying Qin Mohuai at sea, she attended a global finance summit.

He had stood on stage, his refined features serene yet commanding, speaking with sharp insight and boundless vision. The room had been spellbound—not by his power, but by his wisdom.

It was another side of him. And if she could not accept his possessiveness and control, this side would have made her fall all over again.

She’d watched, utterly captivated, and decided then and there to pursue graduate studies.

She wanted to be more knowledgeable, to raise her sense of worth, to never fall into the anxious trap of “He’s so incredible—do I deserve him?”

Loving someone was also about making yourself better.

And she was deeply glad… the one she loved was Qin Mohuai.