Late at night.
The man lay in peaceful slumber, his hands resting neatly over the brocade quilt, like a prince trapped in a sleeping spell. Suddenly, a weight pressed against him, the girl expertly burrowing into his arms to find a comfortable spot, her small face nestled against his chest as she smacked her lips twice, like a child still clinging to its babyish ways.
Shen Xiaoxing had expected her to crawl over in the middle of the night. He let out a resigned sigh, having long given up resisting—besides, he had grown used to the girl's peculiar sleeping habits.
The faint, sweet scent of the young woman lingered around him, his mind filled with images of her fair, smooth body. Gradually, he began to realize something was off with him.
As if on purpose, the girl squirmed at that very moment, tormenting him. She let out a soft murmur, uncomfortable from the hard object beneath her.
"Don't move!" Shen Xiaoxing's breath grew heavy, his voice unusually hoarse.
Unable to bear her teasing, the man gripped her shoulders and pressed her firmly onto the bed, lowering his head to gaze deeply at her. Noticing she seemed about to wake from the sudden movement, he raised a hand to cover her eyes, feeling the ticklish brush of her trembling lashes against his palm.
He patted her back gently, coaxing her back to sleep like a child. Only when the girl's breathing evened out did he endure the discomfort and head to the bathroom.
Under the shower, the man's taut muscles traced smooth lines. Water droplets slid down his thick lashes, splashing onto his chest and scattering into tiny misty beads. His chiseled, handsome face seemed to be holding back something.
Outside the window, sparse snowflakes drifted in the winter chill. The cold water poured over him, biting and bone-deep, as if only this could quell the heat burning inside him...
Shen Xiaoxing lifted his dark, deep-set eyes, his knobby hand pressing against the marble wall. His thin lips pressed into a straight line, and his Adam's apple rolled slightly.
Damn it—he was actually feeling desire for this girl!
Ever since she came into his life, his heart had been stirred with ripples time and again. What was happening to him?
Shen Xiaoxing didn't think this was a good sign. He shouldn't sink deeper into this quagmire.
---
Early morning. An Ruo was sleeping soundly when the man shook her awake by the shoulders.
"An Ruo, wake up!"
Her lashes fluttered as she slowly opened her clear, puzzled eyes. Yawning wearily, she covered her mouth with her hand and asked, "What's wrong?"
"You..." The man's gaze was vacant, staring blankly ahead. "What did you spill on the bed?"
Hearing this, An Ruo looked down and saw a patch of blood on the man's sleep pants, and even her nightgown was stained with it.
Her mind went blank.
Seeing her strange expression, Shen Xiaoxing's heart jolted—was she... miscarrying?
They had never been intimate, so there was no way she could be carrying his child. Unless... it was really that Zou Yikai's seed!?
The man's handsome face darkened instantly. He shoved her away with his palm. "Get off me!"
Her period had come without warning. Before An Ruo could react, she was pushed aside by the man, his face twisted with fury as if he wanted to kill someone.
Mistaking his anger for being upset about the soiled clothes, she quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I... I'll wash these clothes for you."
He fumbled to get out of bed, and An Ruo tried to help him, but was met with cold rejection.
"Don't touch me!"
Shen Xiaoxing had never loathed her as much as he did in this moment. Even when they first met, he had only been wary of her, unwilling to let her close. But now... his anger was laced with disgust!
Seeing his cold attitude, An Ruo bit her lip hard.
Yesterday, they had gotten along fine. Today, because of this, their relationship had only grown more strained.
---
A maid carried the bloodstained men's pajamas and tossed them disdainfully at An Ruo. "Madam, the young master ordered you to wash these clothes. And these sheets and covers—they're all high-end items. You'll have to hand-wash them yourself."
With that, the maid left haughtily before An Ruo could say a word.
It was her fault for embarrassing the man, so An Ruo accepted the blame.
She carried the pile of her own "handiwork" to the laundry room, which was empty of servants—clearly prepared just for her.
An Ruo turned on the tap and reached out to touch the water, only to jerk her hand back in shock.
Cold water?
Just then, someone passed by—the same maid who had delivered the message earlier.
"Excuse me, why is the water cold? Isn't there warm water?"
"The temperature regulator broke yesterday. Please bear with it, madam. The water isn't that cold, and you're not that delicate, are you?"
Everyone knew the young master despised his wife. He had just specifically ordered her to supervise the woman washing the clothes, which showed she had no standing in the villa at all.
An Ruo could tell the maid was deliberately making things difficult for her. She walked straight to the door, intending to find Steward Xu, but the maid quickly blocked her way.
"Madam, the young master wants you to wash them quickly. Time is limited, so hurry up!"
This was likely the man's order too. Otherwise, a maid wouldn't dare to lord it over the mistress—and besides, she wasn't really the master of this house.
An Ruo bit her lip, turned back to the sink, and began scrubbing with the cold water. Her hands ached from the chill, but she gritted her teeth and persisted.
Back in the An family, An Qing had often picked on her too, making her wash clothes in the freezing winter, even throwing the servants' laundry at her. Her hands would crack from the cold, but she had to endure it without telling Grandma An.