After Marrying the Wrong Crazy Husband, I Ran Away with His Baby - Chapter 42

The system screamed frantically in Xia Yuan’s mind: Don’t drive the crazy male lead away! You two aren’t even a real couple, what’s the point of throwing a tantrum? The strategy task is the most important!

Xia Yuan told it to shut up.

She never really intended to kick Qin Mohuai out anyway, so she went along with the flow and agreed to his request to stay the night.

Qin Mohuai’s thin lips curved, pressing a kiss to his wife’s soft, sweet cheek before he provocatively glanced at Pei Jinchen.

“This has nothing to do with you anymore. Go home and play.”

Pei Jinchen cursed, started up his sports car, and sped off. He shouldn’t have come here to watch the drama in the first place—damn it, he only ended up choking on dog food.

In the kitchen, Xia Yi was washing the tea set. Liang Min opened the door, seeing the two who had returned, her expression freezing for a moment. “Yuan Yuan, you… he…”

On rainy nights, Xia Yuan always missed her grandmother a little more. Her fair, pure little face was pale and listless. “Mom, I’ve decided to talk to him tonight. We’ll keep our voices down so we won’t disturb you and Dad’s rest.”

Liang Min hesitated, then said, “Alright, then you two talk.”

She knew it would be very difficult to separate them—unless Qin Mohuai himself was willing to break up.

As for Yuan Yuan, her daughter’s character she understood well. If Qin Mohuai proposed a breakup, Yuan Yuan would never cling to him.

Qin Mohuai stepped into his wife’s boudoir. Perhaps because she had lived here so long, the entire room was filled with her scent—his wife’s scent.

“Go take a shower first. I saw your pant legs are wet… Hmm, but we don’t have your clothes here. I’ll get Dad’s pajamas for you, okay?”

Qin Mohuai, born into wealth and with an obsessive cleanliness streak, normally wouldn’t touch anything second-hand—he even disdained off-the-rack luxury clothing. From head to toe, every piece he wore was custom-made.

“Uncle is only a little shorter than me. His pajamas should fit. Trouble my wife to fetch them.”

Usually, before showering, Qin Mohuai would act up dragging Xia Yuan in for a forceful kiss or coaxing her to bathe together. But tonight, he behaved, silently walking into the bathroom with an unusually restrained air.

Xia Yuan fetched her father’s pajamas. When Qin Mohuai didn’t come out for a long time, she set them at the bathroom door and lay on the bed pretending to sleep, waiting for him.

How should she negotiate with Qin Mohuai so he’d restrain himself a little?

The best solution would be to fix it at the root to find the author of this novel and make her remove Qin Mohuai’s excessive desire setting.

But that was clearly impossible.

Half-asleep, Xia Yuan felt like a little dog was licking her. Her eyelashes trembled.

She had already showered after dinner. Her fair skin was soft and carried a faint fragrance. Qin Mohuai cradled her face in his palms, kissing her delicately.

“Did I wake you?”

“Mm.” Xia Yuan blinked open her eyes, reaching out to touch his damp gray-blue short hair. It was actually a bit long, but at this length, tying a tiny ponytail at the back looked particularly cool and stylish.

Qin Mohuai wasn’t into that sort of thing, but Xia Yuan liked tying it for him. If he cut his hair short, this little interaction would disappear.

Her soft fingertips brushed against his scalp, sending a shiver down his spine. His usually deep, cold phoenix eyes narrowed into slits, instantly transforming into a harmless, handsome puppy.

When Qin Mohuai wasn’t being crazy, he was actually dazzlingly charming.

His gaze fell to Xia Yuan’s right hand. What was she holding?

Normally, he would’ve pried it open to see, but this was the Xia household—and his wife was still angry.

“Baby, blow my hair dry.”

Xia Yuan sat up, picked up the hair dryer, and obediently blew his hair like a puppy’s fur.

Qin Mohuai half-closed his eyes, but his hand slid beneath the pillow, brushing against the object she had been clutching while sleeping.

It was a soft clay figurine, abstractly shaped, its features unclear.

Could it be Mu Yao?

Qin Mohuai flipped the little clay figurine over and saw a string of blue Sanskrit etched on the back. It was exactly the same as the one behind his own ear—just a few times smaller.

This figurine was him.

Even when she ran off to her mother’s house in a fit of anger, even when she acted cold and indifferent to his face, she still held onto him when she slept.

His heart, which had just plummeted into a barren abyss, was instantly lifted high into the clouds. Qin Mohuai’s lips curved uncontrollably.

System: “Love Value of Crazy Male Lead has risen to 93%!”

It had guided countless hosts through missions before. All of them had taken the safe route, slowly nurturing emotions with the target. Only Xia Yuan didn’t play by the rules. Yes, part of it was because time was short but more than that, it showed her sharp instincts.

It had thought she was merely throwing a tantrum. Who would have guessed everything was already within her calculations? Good, very good. As expected of the woman it had chosen!

Xia Yuan turned off the hairdryer and saw Qin Mohuai fiddling with the figurine. Her soft voice rose playfully, sounding almost coquettish.
“Give it back. Qin Mohuai, why are you staring at yourself like that? Didn’t know you were this narcissistic.”

“Wife.”

Qin Mohuai leaned in for a kiss, but Xia Yuan dodged, her voice tinged with lingering fear.
“My body still hasn’t recovered. I can’t give it to you.”

The tall, handsome man knelt on the bed like a guilty pup, lowering his voice.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do anything tonight. Don’t hide from me.”

He really did look remorseful. Xia Yuan seized the chance to lay down her terms.
“For the next week, you’re not allowed to touch me. If you can’t do it, then just go back to Shenghai Manor tonight.”

“I’m not going back.” Anywhere without his wife was nothing but a freezing prison cell. A trace of struggle flickered in Qin Mohuai’s eyes before he agreed to her condition.

Cautiously, he tested the waters:
“…But what about goodnight hugs and kisses?” Surely those weren’t off the table?

Xia Yuan: “…Not tonight.”

If she gave in now, then what would her demand even mean? She angrily kicked Qin Mohuai’s abs. He hissed, his phoenix eyes tightening in pain. It didn’t look fake—sweat was already beading on his forehead.

Xia Yuan frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”

Qin Mohuai’s voice was hoarse and weak.
“I didn’t want to let you know, so you wouldn’t worry. But baby, your little foot really knows how to aim.”

He lifted his shirt. His abs were wrapped in white gauze, a faint trace of blood seeping through. Xia Yuan leaned closer, worry filling her eyes.
“Does it hurt? Did I kick your wound just now?”

Qin Mohuai: “Just barely missed.”

Xia Yuan’s fingers traced the gauze, then slid across the uninjured ridges of his abs, all the way up to his chest. The firm muscles that had been pliant moments ago tensed hard beneath her touch.

“Why your abs? Who hit you? Was he jealous your abs looked too good? Seriously, what a jerk. Luckily your chest is fine. If that got ruined, who would you blame?”

He knew her love for his muscles was a form of affection. But why did he feel just a little…unhappy about it?

“My Ninth Uncle. Qin Jingye. But he didn’t get away unscathed—he took the heavier hit.”

Xia Yuan knew Qin Jingye was a taboo subject in the Qin family, so she didn’t pry further. Her fluffy little head dipped down, and she planted a kiss on his perfect, sculpted chest. Her affection was clear as day.

Qin Mohuai chuckled, amused and exasperated.
“How can you be so biased? The abs need kisses too.”

When Xia Yuan glanced up at him, he deliberately put on a half-dead expression—like a war-torn, dangerously beautiful man on the verge of collapse. And against her better judgment, Xia Yuan found herself drawn in. Before she realized it, Qin Mohuai had coaxed tonight’s hugs and kisses out of her. The bad man hooked the corner of his lips, brimming with smug laughter.

Meanwhile.

Qin Jingye glanced at the newspaper headline about himself being admitted to the ICU. His cold eyes showed no anger, no joy—only a deathly stillness, like everything around him was already dust.

“So this is the generous gift from my dear nephew. Go. Send him a gift in return.”

Like a shadow, the figure beside him disappeared from the study.

To provoke Ninth Master was to provoke Death itself. Deep Sea Corporation was the piece he showed the world, but in secret, Ninth Master had long been gathering physicists from every nation. No one knew what he was truly plotting…