After Marrying the Wrong Crazy Husband, I Ran Away with His Baby - Chapter 47

She was angry and still acting all cute—how could a little demon like her exist in the world?

Qin Mohuai’s anger over being blocked had already subsided by half, but it was a bad habit. If one day she blocked him from every contact, it would be too late.

He cast a glance at the two rats hiding in the shadows and snorted lightly.

His clean, cool lips brushed against Xia Yuan’s forehead, like rain over a silent mountain. The scent of his woody perfume—ebony, cedar, sandalwood—was both somber and refreshing.

“Let’s go home,” he said.

Xia Yuan obediently let him take her hand, though her fair, moist little face still radiated defiance.

All this fuss over a single dinner? Qin Mohuai didn’t want her to be upset over something so small. In a low, magnetic voice, he said, “Don’t be mad. Next time, I’ll host and treat them myself.”

Once inside the Cullinan, the poised, elegant man gripped her chin and kissed her delicate, petal-like lips with a ferocity that seemed to draw every drop of sweetness from them.

“…Mmph, it hurts.”

She cried out several times before Qin Mohuai finally relented, stroking her soft, wet lips with roughened fingertips. “Earlier, you said I held a consort selection banquet—what did you mean?”

“You still have the nerve to ask?!”

Qin Mohuai paused, recalling a memory tucked away in a corner of his mind. His memory was excellent, but not everything deserved to be remembered. This, however, involved Xia Yuan.

Whenever it concerned her, every detail was etched clearly into his mind—a habit that would later torment him. His heartbeat seemed to stop when she left, yet his photographic memory replayed every moment of sweetness and passion as if it were yesterday, driving him almost mad, blurring yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

Xia Yuan: “Why aren’t you saying anything?” Her large, tearful eyes sparkled as she glared at him, itching to hit him. “So it’s true! Ouyang Hongyi wasn’t lying—you really did hold a consort selection banquet at Tianxi! You… you’re filthy! Don’t touch me!”

Ouyang Hongyi?

A flash of cold anger crossed Qin Mohuai’s eyes—so it had been him spreading rumors in front of Xia Yuan.

“That wasn’t a consort selection banquet,” Qin Mohuai admitted, low and deferential. “The first time we met, you were so bold and proactive. I couldn’t help reacting. Except for the morning flag-raising, I’ve never reacted that strongly before.”

“If I only desired your body, I wouldn’t have touched you. I don’t let desire control my mind. Men who give in to temptation rarely succeed in their careers.”

“That night at Tianxi, I went to confirm… I felt as if you’d cast a spell on me. Even glancing at another woman made me physically uncomfortable. The truth? I fell in love at first sight. Because I liked you, I felt the desire to possess you.”

The girl, originally turning her back to him, couldn’t help but turn and listen closely to his low, magnetic confession.

He really knew how to speak.

Not at all like the abstinent, twenty-seven-year-old man she imagined.

Faced with a major emotional crisis, he explained clearly in just a few words—and confessed in a way that was utterly captivating. His control over the situation was remarkable.

He was supposed to be the hunted in her trap, yet Qin Mohuai seemed so… effortless.

“Your words contradict each other. Didn’t you say you wouldn’t let desire control you?” Xia Yuan bit her lip, nitpicking, determined not to forgive him so easily—though her mood had brightened slightly.

Qin Mohuai’s lips curved, his smile noble and gentle—the expression Xia Yuan adored most.

“I’m not controlled by desire. Only by you.”

He leaned in close, lips and teeth nearly brushing, his scarlet tongue pressing against her upper palate. Their breaths mingled, restrained yet intimate.

Xia Yuan thought: Good thing I’m not the one being seduced—otherwise, I’d be doomed in seconds.

The single villa within Saint Sea Manor was Georgia-style, red walls, bright windows, glittering lamps. From afar, it looked grand and resplendent. Day and night, the lights never went out, like a nineteenth-century steam engine, ready to carry a memory that would burn itself into the heart.

Xia Yuan was in the shower while Qin Mohuai stood in the hallway, phone in hand, making a call.

“Have you confirmed it?”

Qin Wu replied: “Yes. It wasn’t a rumor spread by the Old Master. The information came from Qin Jingye.”

Qin Mohuai sneered. Qin Jingye had defamed him by claiming he was in the ICU, and in retaliation, Qin Mohuai’s own scandalous rumors were leaked about him.

“That widower,” Qin Mohuai muttered. “He can’t stand to see others happy since his wife died. Forget him for now—when I have the time, I’ll deal with him properly.”

Today it’s one trouble, tomorrow it’s another. Seems like no one can tolerate his happiness.

His grandfather called again, asking him to come home for dinner tomorrow. Ouyang Jing would probably be there, too, and Qin Mohuai didn’t feel like navigating the usual politicking. Tomorrow, he’d just take Xia Yuan straight to register their marriage and hold a proper wedding later.

He’d been making Xia Yuan suffer a little lately.

Xia Yuan, however, had a talent for taking care of herself. No matter the setbacks, she still ate and slept well, treating herself kindly, never feeling wronged. He wondered what she was really thinking—was it all an act of strength?

Before sleep, Xia Yuan was kissed into comfort by Qin Mohuai. “Can you wait for me to wake up with you tomorrow?”

“Baby, do you have to get up at six?”

“I can’t… but will you wait for me?” Xia Yuan wanted to greet the morning together with him, so she told him honestly.

“Plaything? You think I treat you like a plaything?”

Qin Mohuai turned over, switched on the light, and stood at the bedside, looking down at her. The corner of his eyes were reddened from her earlier anger.

“I may not wait for you to wake up, but every day I personally clip a blue rose for you and write a confession on a little card in French. Who wastes time doing that for a plaything?”

Xia Yuan scratched her head. “So it was you giving the blue roses! Your French is amazing—I thought they were store-bought. Wait, I even kept one…”

Kept one?

Did that mean she tossed the rest?

Qin Mohuai usually didn’t mind her scatterbrained ways, but arguments made people sensitive; even little things could be magnified.

“I’m the plaything! You cheer me up like a dog when you’re happy, and stomp on my heart whenever you’re not. You’re killing me!”

He strode out of the bedroom, fearing he might strangle her in his anger.

System: You could have calmed him down just now.

Xia Yuan murmured: “Yeah… all I had to do was lie to him.”

System: You’re softening? Have you fallen for your target? Are you going to sacrifice your own life to tell him the truth?

Xia Yuan: “What a joke.”

She had always known what she wanted. She wanted to go home, so she decided to keep deceiving Qin Mohuai.

Giving just enough affection to a man helped keep her conscience clear. Too much affection, and she’d be cursed for life.

System: “…”

Suddenly, it occurred to the system—Xia Yuan wasn’t a saint. She was a natural little green tea!

A heart full of pity for the world, yet capable of selfish cunning. Truly, the perfect host he had meticulously chosen.

Xia Yuan hadn’t kept just one card. The French calligraphy was too beautiful, so without realizing it, she had kept them all—every single one.

Clutching a stack of cards, she went to coax Qin Mohuai once again.