After the Bankrupt Heiress Married into a Rich Family - Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Mingzhu suddenly used her leg to nudge Rong Zhao’s knee.

How to thank her?

Mingzhu’s train of thought had hit a snag. She couldn’t think of any serious way to repay Rong Zhao, but she had plenty of “unserious” ideas. Given their current relationship, however, she could only keep those thoughts to herself.

So, Mingzhu started with the most sincere thing she could offer right now: “Rongrong, this Saturday, I promise to perform well. I’ll work hard to make your parents like me and definitely won’t let you down.”

There was silence for over ten seconds.

“Rongrong?”

“…Bad signal. I heard you. Thank you.”

“Don’t be so polite, it’s only what I should do.”

“Mhm.”

“By the way, Rongrong, make sure to read the script I wrote carefully—especially the parts about me. Don’t let our stories clash when the time comes.”

“Mhm.”

Hearing Rong Zhao’s two lukewarm “Mhms,” Mingzhu felt a bit deflated. Sensing that Rong Zhao might not be too thrilled with her “gift” of a good performance, Mingzhu asked softly, “Then how do you want me to thank you?”

Rong Zhao: “…Performing well is thanks enough.”

Mingzhu: “…”

Isn’t that just the same result?

Mingzhu gave a quick goodbye and hung up, grumbling for a while about Rong Zhao’s cold attitude.

Back in the bar, Mingzhu settled the bill for the drinks at her and He Chan’s booth. It wasn’t too bad—less than five thousand yuan. He Chan and her friends were there to keep her company and cheer her up; she couldn’t let He Chan foot the whole bill, but knowing He Chan, she’d be unhappy if she didn’t pay for something. So, Mingzhu decided to drink and play for another twenty minutes, then let He Chan cover a smaller tab—that would be just right.

While Mingzhu was busy drinking and socializing, back at the villa, Rong Zhao was in the study flipping through the script Mingzhu had written.

In the quiet of the night, Rong Zhao wore Mingzhu’s white windbreaker, resting her head on one hand as she slowly turned the pages. Beside her sat half a glass of wine—her second one.

She had never met someone so exasperating.

Saturday Morning, Hezhi Apartments.

After her shower, Mingzhu gave her hair a quick blow-dry and prepared to head out with a bare face. He Chan drove her back, helping her carry her suitcase and a large tote bag into the elevator. The bags contained the leftovers Rong Zhao had sent over, as well as things He Chan had packed for Mingzhu to take back.

“I’m teaching kids all weekend, and you’ll be busy too. Come back over on Monday,” He Chan said. As an English teacher, her weekends were packed.

Mingzhu joked, “It sounds like your house is a daycare center.”

He Chan laughed, “Might as well be! That’s exactly what it feels like.”

They chatted as they exited the elevator. As He Chan dragged the suitcase toward her parking spot, a horn honked from the temporary parking area.

After Wan Qing’s apology the other night, Wan Ling still hadn’t shown up. Rumor had it she was being stubborn and was still grounded. Hearing the horn, He Chan assumed it was Wan Ling.

Instead, a car pulled up and the window rolled down. Mingzhu cheered, “Sister Xiang, why are you here?”

Xiang Xi stepped out in leather boots. “CEO Rong sent me to pick you up so Miss He wouldn’t have to make the trip. Also, Miss Rong asked me to bring these for Miss He’s parents as a thank you for looking after Miss Mingzhu.”

Xiang Xi handed over two red gift boxes. They weren’t too heavy, but they weren’t light either—prominently labeled as Changqing Mountain Wild Ginseng.

He Chan accepted the gifts, offering her thanks, but her mind was racing. Why does Rong Zhao seem to actually be treating Mingzhu like a wife?

Mingzhu hopped into the car and waved. “Hehe, I’m off! I hope the kids in your class are all well-behaved today!”

He Chan smiled. “Go on then. I hope you win over your in-laws today.”

“That’s a given!”

Mingzhu’s smiling face was gradually obscured by the rising window. In the underground garage, He Chan watched the taillights disappear, the image of Mingzhu sleeping in Rong Zhao’s bed flashing through her mind.

Something is off. This is too strange.

He Chan’s eyes suddenly widened. No way… It couldn’t be, right?

As they approached the gates of the villa, Mingzhu felt a strange sense of “coming home.” However, upon entering the courtyard, her heart sank. “The cherry blossoms have all fallen?”

She had arrived at Rong Zhao’s on the 18th; today was the 29th. In those eleven days, the blooming period of about half a month had passed, and most of the petals were gone.

“Well, it was time. They fall once they’re done blooming,” Xiang Xi said, noticing Mingzhu’s slight melancholy. “But as the flowers fade, new branches sprout. Look, the green buds are already growing. Every season has its own beauty, and there will be more good food to eat soon.”

Mingzhu felt comforted, her gloom vanishing as she chatted with Xiang Xi about food. They reached the front door, and Mingzhu stepped inside.

In the living room were two people and a rack of clothes. Makeup supplies and jewelry were spread across the coffee table—the styling team.

“Auntie Guan, where’s Rongrong?” Mingzhu asked first.

The housekeeper smiled. “Miss Rong is upstairs. She asked Miss Mingzhu to get styled first; she’ll come down once you’re done.”

Mingzhu introduced herself to the stylists. After Xiang Xi brought in the luggage, Mingzhu pulled several bags from her tote. “Auntie Guan, these are some snacks I just bought—chocolates, nuts, dried shrimp. Please share them with the stylists, the other housekeepers, and Sister Xiang. It’s Saturday and you should be resting, but you’re all here helping me. Thank you.”

The housekeeper was surprised by the thoughtful gesture, but then remembered that during her stay, Mingzhu had proven to be a lively and warm person. She accepted them with a smile, thinking the bored housekeepers would finally have something to gossip about again.

Mingzhu pulled another bag out. “Auntie Guan, I’m going upstairs to talk to Rongrong for a second. Give me five minutes.”

Without waiting for an answer, Mingzhu dashed upstairs. She pushed open the bedroom door but didn’t see Rong Zhao. Passing the walk-in closet, she caught a glimpse of white.

Rong Zhao was standing in front of a full-length mirror with her back to the door. Her bra strap left a faint, delicate mark on her slender back. A thin back, a narrow waist, a perfect silhouette—it was a stunningly sexy view.

Rong Zhao saw Mingzhu in the mirror. Her spine stiffened imperceptibly for a fraction of a second before she calmly pulled a shirt over her shoulders.

“Why are you up here?” Rong Zhao asked, buttoning the shirt without turning around.

Mingzhu walked in, admiring the view. Rong Zhao was wearing lingerie that perfectly matched her skin tone; at a glance, Mingzhu had thought she was bare. She looks so cool and distant in clothes, but she’s so sexy without them.

Rong Zhao’s shirt wasn’t long. Mingzhu unabashedly lowered her gaze to Rong Zhao’s legs. “I missed you! It’s been four days. Rongrong, your legs are so straight and long. Why do I feel like your waistline is higher than mine?”

As she spoke, she reached out, wanting to lift Rong Zhao’s shirt to check.

“It’s not. Just an illusion,” Rong Zhao said, dodging Mingzhu’s hand as she finished the buttons. If her waistline really were higher, Mingzhu would be upset.

Sure enough, Mingzhu was pleased to hear it was an illusion, her smile deepening.

“Why did you call a styling team over?” Mingzhu had expected to get ready herself.

“I didn’t want you to worry about it. Look over the gift list while they do your makeup.”

Mingzhu laughed. “No problem. I’ll memorize the whole thing.”

Rong Zhao sat on the sofa to put on her trousers. She looked up. “What’s in your hand?”

Mingzhu noticed Rong Zhao’s white shirt happened to be collarless. She pulled an item from her bag. “Since today is so important, we have to play the part fully. I bought you a silk scarf. Does it look good?”

It was 18mm mulberry silk; the boutique price was five thousand yuan. In the eight days they’d been married, Mingzhu had already spent over fifty thousand.

The color was bright, the pattern unique, and the style elegant. Rong Zhao raised an eyebrow. “Is this the ‘thank you’ gift?”

“Not exactly. After all, I bought it with your money—it would be insincere to call it a repayment. I just saw it while shopping and thought it suited you, so I picked it up.”

“…” Rong Zhao realized she shouldn’t have asked.

Mingzhu: “But I did buy it specifically for you. What do you think?”

Rong Zhao gave a reluctant critique: “It’s not bad.”

“It’s definitely good! I bought it based on your vibe. Want me to put it on for you?”

Rong Zhao didn’t refuse. She lifted her long hair, exposing her slender, fair neck.

Mingzhu suddenly used her leg to nudge Rong Zhao’s knee.

Rong Zhao went quiet for a moment, then opened her knees.

Mingzhu stood between Rong Zhao’s legs, leaning down to tie the scarf. The cool silk brushed against Rong Zhao’s arm, and Mingzhu’s jasmine-scented hair grazed Rong Zhao’s cheek.

Mingzhu focused intently on tying the knot. Usually, she only tied scarves for herself and had never done it for someone else from this angle. She took her time, eventually even naturally sitting down on Rong Zhao’s lap.

Rong Zhao looked up at Mingzhu, her breathing suddenly hitching for a beat, and then another.