CHAPTER 55: CHAPTER 52: A MISERABLE END (10 UPDATES)

Sure, here is the translated text:

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Yin Shuyao didn’t recognize the woman, but she seemed somewhat familiar, though she couldn’t recall where from. She asked the person outside through the intercom of the video doorbell, "Who are you looking for?"

The woman brushed aside her curly hair that fell to her chest, casually flicking her long eyelashes: "Mr. Qin gave me the address, told me to come over tonight to keep him company. Are you the maid? Help me open the door."

The person inside could see the person outside on the screen, but the person outside could only hear the voice of the person inside. The woman just assumed Yin Shuyao was the maid.

Yin Shuyao felt a surge of anger, her face instantly turning cold: "What nonsense are you spouting?"

On the wedding night, no matter how unreliable Qin Fan was, it was impossible for him to call a woman over to keep him company. Where did that leave his new bride?

"Open the door quickly, I’m freezing to death..."

Before the woman could finish her sentence, Yin Shuyao hung up the line and turned upstairs furiously, only to run into Qin Fan stumbling down the stairs at the landing.

Yin Shuyao’s brow twitched, her voice tinged with displeasure: "Why did you come down?"

"Is someone here?"

Qin Fan leaned slantingly against the handrail of the spiral staircase, a few buttons of his white shirt undone, the collar wide open, revealing skin on his chest. His head tilted slightly, a smile mirrored in his peach blossom eyes, looking inebriated, frivolous, wanton.

Yin Shuyao stood a few steps below, looking up at him, her pale pink lips biting into whiteness: "She went to the wrong place."

"Really?" Qin Fan raised an eyebrow, tugged at his collar, and walked around her down the stairs.

Yin Shuyao held the handrail tightly with one hand, turned and shouted at his retreating figure: "Where are you going?"

"Where else would I go on my wedding night? Of course, I’m staying home."

Qin Fan said unhurriedly with his back to her, opened the door, and soon after, walked in with a tall and graceful woman in his arms, a teasing smile spreading across his lips.

The woman, with a slender waist, snuggled into Qin Fan’s embrace like a water snake, cooing and flirting: "What’s going on Mr. Qin, your maid doesn’t know manners, making me wait so long, my body is freezing."

"Let me feel where it’s frozen." Qin Fan said, reaching out to touch her face, laughing, "Softer than a peeled egg, there’s no stiffness."

"Hate it." The woman blushed, brushing against him deliberately, kindling a spark.

The two flirted as if no one was around. A few meters away, standing on the stairs, Yin Shuyao’s eyes widened.

She recalled who this woman was, a member of a girl group in the country. She had seen her a few times while scrolling through Weibo before.

The woman’s coquettish laughter came again: "Don’t, someone’s watching, let’s go to the room, okay?"

Yin Shuyao’s eyes turned frighteningly red, and she rushed down the steps barefoot, not caring when her slippers fell off, confronting the two and hysterically pointing at the woman and shouting: "Qin Fan, what is your relationship with her?!"

The woman, holding Qin Fan’s neck, snickered: "Is there a need to ask?" After a pause, she turned to Qin Fan and said, "Mr. Qin, your maid is really meddlesome."

Qin Fan glanced at Yin Shuyao, his smile vanished in a second, and he said with a cold face: "I told you, the wedding was as you wanted it, but how things are after marriage is not your concern. If you can’t stand it, just leave."

Yin Shuyao looked at him in disbelief: "What did you say?"

"I said get lost, didn’t you hear?"

The malice lingered in Qin Fan’s eyes. He released the woman in his arms and walked towards Yin Shuyao one step at a time, reaching out to grip her neck.

"You... *cough cough*..." Yin Shuyao didn’t expect him to use so much force. She couldn’t finish a sentence before she felt suffocated, her face flushed red, pupils dilating.

Qin Fan leaned in closer, raising one side of his lips, his tone icy cold: "Didn’t you think about the consequences when you plotted against me in the first place?"

Yin Shuyao opened her mouth, unable to catch her breath, let alone speak.

A wave of fear spread from her soles upwards, engulfing her entire body. Her lips trembled, tears rolled down.

Qin Fan let go, and Yin Shuyao fell to the floor like a limp rag doll, panting heavily: "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Still denying it up until now, you really won’t cry until you see the coffin." Qin Fan squatted in front of her, slapping her face with a crisp sound, "Do I need to make it clearer? Luring me to the hotel, drugging me, calling reporters to take photos, you played your cards well."

The color drained rapidly from Yin Shuyao’s tear-streaked face, leaving it deathly pale.

How did Qin Fan know?

She had done everything so meticulously, leaving no trace of suspicion, he couldn’t possibly know.

Yin Shuyao shook her head desperately, clutching his pant leg, crying as she explained: "No, listen to me..."

Qin Fan didn’t want to hear her speak. Waving his hand, the seductive woman stepped forward, ignoring Yin Shuyao’s presence, taking Qin Fan’s arm and heading upstairs, her voice soft and coquettish: "Your home is so big."

"Do you like it?" Qin Fan pressed his thin lips against the corner of her lips, lowering his voice, "If you like it, come often."

"Don’t lie to me, or I’ll take it seriously..."

In the festively decorated bedroom, shortly afterward, ambiguous sounds emerged.

Yin Shuyao sat on the cold floor, feeling the warmth draining from her body, with no one to confide in.

The marriage, exchanged for the sacrifice of the family business, now seemed more like a joke. Apart from the empty title of "Mrs. Qin," she had nothing left.

*

Shen Jianian woke up with a slight headache, the sky outside was dark, the indoor lighting dim, the digital clock showing 2:15.

Had she slept from noon to midnight?

Shen Jianian rubbed her forehead, taking a moment to sit up, only then realizing she was in Fu Jichen’s bedroom, beneath her the dark blue bed.

Since it wasn’t the first time sleeping in this bed, Shen Jianian calmed down after her initial surprise.

Her throat felt dry, and there was a cup of water on the bedside table. Shen Jianian picked it up and took a sip, finding it slightly sweet, seemingly honey water.

After drinking the whole glass, a sense of hunger came over her. Shen Jianian set the cup down and leaned against the headboard, staring blankly, her memories lingering on the banquet hall, accompanying Fu Jichen for socializing, having a few glasses of red wine, and then lost consciousness.

She covered her eyes with a hand, wondering if she had embarrassed him.

"Awake?"

The room was carpeted, footsteps silent, and it wasn’t until Fu Jichen’s voice sounded by the bedside that Shen Jianian realized he had come. She uncovered her eyes and looked at him.

Fu Jichen, dressed in dark home clothes, his features were elegant, his demeanor uncharacteristically gentle.

"Hungry?" Fu Jichen asked, "Anywhere uncomfortable?"

Aside from the headache, there were no other obvious symptoms. Shen Jianian was truthful: "Hungry."

Fu Jichen smiled: "What do you want to eat? I’ll call the chef to make something."

"No need." Shen Jianian didn’t want to trouble anyone at half-past two in the morning, "I’ll just eat something to fill up, not too much appetite for anything else."

"What can fill you up?"

"Cookies."

Fu Jichen was momentarily stunned but said nothing, bringing her a box of her favorite cookies, then went to the bathroom to shower, having been in the study handling work earlier.

Coming out in clean pajamas, Fu Jichen’s action of drying his hair suddenly froze. In his sight, Shen Jianian sat on his bed, cradling the round tin of cookies, demolishing one in three bites. Despite the dim lighting, he could clearly see cookie crumbs falling steadily.

Fu Jichen prided himself on not being overly germophobic, but the sight before him was unbearable, the vein on his forehead pulsing.

"Shen Jianian." He called out, the other party looking over in confusion, and he pointed at her, "Take your cookies and eat them in your room."

Shen Jianian didn’t know why he suddenly acted strange, didn’t argue, lifted the quilt, slipped on her slippers, and left.

Fu Jichen took a few steps to the bed, found the switch on the wall, and turned on the ceiling light. The room abruptly brightened, and indeed, the sheets and coverlet had remnants on them. That character...

In the guest room, Shen Jianian had enough after a few cookies, closed the lid, and tiredly sprawled on the bed.

Soon, hearing the sound of the door opening, she raised her head to take a look.

Fu Jichen had come in.