After the Bankrupt Heiress Married into a Rich Family - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

At night, the alcohol-induced Rong Zhao seemed to have transformed into a completely different person.

Her cheeks were unnaturally vivid; the flush on her cheekbones spread all the way to her forehead, making her face look as if it were bathed in the red glow of candlelight.

Mingzhu’s heart tightened, and her brows furrowed. “Rong Zhao, are you okay? Where does it hurt? Do you feel like throwing up?”

Rong Zhao shook her head gently, her voice soft and somewhat sticky. “Cold…”

“Cold?”

Does she have a fever?

Mingzhu immediately propped herself up to check her temperature. Rong Zhao’s forehead was small and full; it fit perfectly under the palm of Mingzhu’s hand. However, her forehead wasn’t hot at all; on the contrary, she was breaking out in a cold, damp sweat.

Mingzhu followed up in a soft whisper, “Rong Zhao, are you sure you’re cold? If you are, I’ll go turn up the air conditioning.”

Rong Zhao was usually a woman of few words, preferring action over speech. Consequently, her villa was only equipped with smart home features but no voice control; adjusting the temperature required finding the remote or using the wall panel.

“No.”

Just as Mingzhu lifted half her body to get out of bed, she was suddenly grabbed by Rong Zhao. Two buttons of her pajamas were pulled open in the struggle.

Mingzhu’s collar fell wide open. She hurriedly tried to button it back up, but before she could finish, Rong Zhao hugged her by the shoulders and pressed her back down. Rong Zhao lowered her face, burying it into the soft, tender hollow of Mingzhu’s neck. Her hands gripped Mingzhu’s shoulders tightly, and her legs tangled upward, as if she were using Mingzhu as a human body pillow—or perhaps seeking a comfortable temperature from her body.

“It hurts…” Rong Zhao murmured.

The more Rong Zhao said she was in discomfort, the more anxious Mingzhu became, yet Rong Zhao held her so tightly she couldn’t leave the bed.

Mingzhu could only struggle to pull the quilt over Rong Zhao while saying, “Rong Zhao, let go of me a little. Where does it hurt? Are you dizzy, or is your stomach upset? Do you feel nauseous?”

If she had known Rong Zhao would be this uncomfortable after drinking, she wouldn’t have kept pouring glass after glass!

“Rong Zhao, can you hear me? Where is the discomfort?”

“Everywhere…”

Rong Zhao weighed down half of Mingzhu’s body, her forehead pressed against Mingzhu’s collarbone. Suddenly, she grabbed Mingzhu’s hand, her breath hitching in a light gasp. “Help me… help me…”

Mingzhu’s pupils trembled violently. What was Rong Zhao asking her to help with?

Mingzhu immediately tried to pull her hand away, but she couldn’t; her wrist was gripped firmly by Rong Zhao.

“It’s unbearable…”

Mingzhu couldn’t believe this was the “discomfort” Rong Zhao was feeling. Although everyone reacts differently to alcohol, she never expected this side of Rong Zhao—soft, delicate, and clingy, as if tonight really were their wedding night.

Mingzhu thought unseasonably: Is this the first time Rong Zhao has been drunk? How did she deal with it before?

No, this won’t do. I, Bai Mingzhu, am the most upright and honest person in this world.

“Mingzhu, help me…”

Mingzhu was about to push Rong Zhao’s shoulder away when she heard her name. It wasn’t the cold “Mingzhu” from before; it was a “Mingzhu” spoken as a plea.

Mingzhu’s brain worked at lightning speed. She was like a little actress being paid by Rong Zhao; Rong Zhao was her benefactor. She owed Rong Zhao a favor. It… didn’t seem entirely impossible.

She didn’t feel any resistance; in fact, she gradually grew excited.

This was the complete opposite of the daytime Rong Zhao, who was as cold as a wintry moon. Right now, Rong Zhao was incredibly passionate. Although she didn’t kiss her, she kept burrowing into Mingzhu’s arms and rubbing her face against Mingzhu’s neck. Heaven knows the sense of satisfaction one gets when an aloof cat you’ve known for over ten years suddenly snuggles into your embrace with such fervor.

I finally have the upper hand over Rong Zhao!

Mingzhu’s struggling strength gradually dissipated, following the movement of Rong Zhao’s wrist. With just a touch, Mingzhu saw Rong Zhao’s face, eyes closed, suddenly become radiant, like a delicate flower blooming in an instant. Tears even trembled from the corners of Rong Zhao’s eyes.

Mingzhu suddenly thought of herself as a child. She had always loved the outdoors. In her youth, she played with rollerblades and ice skates—the faster she went, the more excited she became. As she grew older, she took up skiing, still loving the thrill of speed. Later, she wanted to learn horse riding, so her parents gave her the fastest and most beautiful Akhal-Teke horse—shimmering gold, elegant and beautiful. She named it “Moon.”

When riding a horse, one must follow the horse’s strength, constantly observe its reactions, feel its breathing rhythm, and rise and fall with it. Mingzhu’s ability to grasp and control seemed innate; she only needed a very short time to go from unfamiliar to proficient.

And she especially loved accelerating in a short burst. She couldn’t slow down. She loved the thrill of constant acceleration amidst the feeling of losing control; it made her blood boil.

In a very short time, Mingzhu felt Rong Zhao suddenly bite the collar of her pajamas. She felt Rong Zhao clutch the fabric at her waist so tightly that Rong Zhao’s whole body trembled. She heard the hurried, delicate gasps of Rong Zhao’s forehead pressed against her damp neck, and the murmurs like sleep-talking, begging her not to stop.

Rong Zhao’s body had turned into a pool of water, as if she had broken a fever and was covered in sweat. Mingzhu used warm water, wet wipes, and towels to carefully wipe her down.

The bothersome pajama pants lay in a messy heap at the foot of the bed. Both the pants and the sheets looked as if they had been crushed under Rong Zhao’s feet with force—they were covered in wrinkles.

Fearing she would wake Rong Zhao, Mingzhu dressed her with extreme care. She still saw Rong Zhao occasionally furrow her brow or restlessly blink her lashes. Whenever that happened, Mingzhu would stop her movements until Rong Zhao fell back into a deep sleep before continuing.

After finishing the task, Mingzhu tucked Rong Zhao in, wrapped herself in her own quilt, and finally closed her eyes.

But just as Mingzhu was drifting off, her eyes snapped open again. Unbelievably, Rong Zhao had crawled into her quilt once more, grabbing her hand and tangling herself around Mingzhu!

She knew that if Rong Zhao were sober, she would never do this. Rong Zhao was such a pure and high-minded person; she would never look at someone like Mingzhu, who only cared about having fun. Rong Zhao must think she was in a dream. But was Rong Zhao really this lacking in restraint in her dreams?!

One of Mingzhu’s shoulders was held tightly by a Rong Zhao who had clearly developed a taste for this, leaving Mingzhu with only her wrist free to move.

The night should have been silent, but Mingzhu’s ears were filled with the fragmented sounds of Rong Zhao—sometimes hurried, sometimes slow, sounding like a mix of sobbing and sighing. Occasionally it was a soft nasal sniffle, sometimes a tremolo from her slightly parted lips, and sometimes rapid gasps coming from her heaving chest.

Drunk, chaotic, soft, panicked, and ceaselessly clinging—those sounds sent waves of numbness through Mingzhu’s body.

Suddenly, Rong Zhao rolled over in Mingzhu’s arms, pressing her forehead against the pillow and biting the quilt tightly.

Mingzhu lay on her side behind Rong Zhao. Looking down, she could smell the rose fragrance from Rong Zhao’s hair. Rong Zhao’s hair and body care were clearly no less extensive than her own; she was smooth and tender. Mingzhu found her irresistible, yet she couldn’t pull her arm away because Rong Zhao was clinging to it like a vine. Faintly hearing Rong Zhao’s broken, incoherent, sob-like sounds, Mingzhu excitedly lowered her head and bit Rong Zhao’s hair.

Mingzhu woke up early. Feeling too guilty to sleep in for even a minute, she immediately and stealthily folded her quilt and put it in the cabinet. This was to prevent the housekeeper from discovering they were sleeping with separate covers.

Mingzhu quietly went to the bathroom to wash up.

She had used this bathroom three times last night to rinse warm towels, and there was a small pile of wet wipes in the trash can.

A headache began to form. Mingzhu, whose first reaction to trouble was always escape, finished her routine quickly. She pulled out two face towels to cover the traces in the bin, and without waiting for Rong Zhao to wake up, she hurriedly fled the “crime scene.”

At 8:00 AM, Mingzhu sat on the rug in front of the living room sofa, applying her makeup in front of a mirror. She had been at it for nearly an hour.

Suddenly, she heard the slow sound of footsteps coming down from upstairs. Every step seemed to land right on Mingzhu’s heartbeat.

Mingzhu gritted her teeth and decided to just go for it. She looked up with a nonchalant smile. “Rong-Rong, you’re awake! Good morning.”

Then, she tucked her smile away and said worriedly, “You drank too much last night. Do you feel unwell this morning?”

As she asked, her heart was thumping like a frantic drum.