Another Day of Pretending for the Wealthy Couple - Chapter 15

The latter half of the party was attended only by a few close friends from their circle.

As someone who thrived on lively gatherings, Gu Beiming wouldn’t let such a perfect opportunity slip by. He rallied everyone again to unwind.

The usual ways to relax were drinking and playing cards, activities that required little time and minimal setup. A private room, a few bottles of liquor, and a couple of decks of cards were all it took.

Zhong Yan loosened the top buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, revealing the clean lines of his forearms. He picked up a glass of whiskey with a few ice cubes and drank half of it.

Cheng Gengxu, a cigarette dangling from his lips, asked, “Where’s your wife?”

Zhong Yan replied casually, “She doesn’t like these kinds of gatherings. She’s resting next door.”

Zhao Qingye raised an eyebrow. “Is it that she doesn’t like these gatherings, or is it the people at them?”

Zhong Yan set down his glass. “There’s no need for her to blend in.”

The implications of his words were profound.

Was he suggesting that they would eventually go their separate ways, making it pointless to integrate her into his social circle? But then why had he brought her to the last gathering?

“You brought her last time just to annoy Shu Yun, didn’t you?” Gu Beiming could only think of this explanation.

Zhong Yan raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘on purpose’? Bringing her once was enough to make a point.”

Cheng Gengxu wore a teasing smile as he dealt the cards. “He’s sulking because he found out his wife has been keeping things from him, too.”

Duan Huaixu of Convolution Capital was a prominent figure in the venture capital and finance world. The fact that he knew Ji Tanyuan, whether as a mere acquaintance or something more, was impossible to verify, leaving Zhong Yan simmering with frustration.

Next door, Ji Tanyuan was curled up in a corner of the lounge sofa, drowsy as she waited for Zhong Yan.

Her thoughts drifted to Duan Huaixu’s words earlier that day.

“Why didn’t you come to me back then?”

Ji Tanyuan was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, when your funds were tight, why did you have to collaborate with the Zhong family?”

“Huanghuang, are you really planning to settle for being a leisurely wealthy wife?”

Ji Tanyuan smoothed her hair and smiled. “It was the Zhong family who wanted to collaborate. We had no other choice.”

“I should be grateful they didn’t take advantage of the situation to outright acquire us and settled for a partnership instead.”

Duan Huaixu pressed, “And what about you?”

Calmly, Ji Tanyuan looked up, amused. “The projects between our families amount to tens of billions of dollars. If I didn’t secure the marriage as insurance for the Ji family, what leverage would I have to hold the Zhongs accountable if they reneged?”

Duan Huaixu nodded and asked directly, “How long is your marriage supposed to last?”

Ji Tanyuan gazed out the window. Everything here felt unfamiliar, yet it seemed as if she had been trapped here for half a lifetime. But then she thought about her marriage to Zhong Yan…

In this marriage, she could sense that Zhong Yan wasn’t opposed to it, but he probably wasn’t deeply invested either. The same went for her. Perhaps the novelty of being newlyweds hadn’t worn off yet.

What would happen in a year or two? No one could say.

“I don’t know.”

The initiative had never been in her hands. The Zhong family wielded immense power, with three generations in politics. In the law of the jungle, power always trumped wealth.

Ji Tanyuan closed her eyes, feigning sleep, when she suddenly felt a cool touch on her face. She didn’t need to guess, it was Zhong Yan’s hand.

“Tired?”

Ji Tanyuan hummed in response. “Is it over?”

Zhong Yan knelt beside the sofa, one knee on the ground, and gently rubbed her cheek. “Tomorrow is Monday. We have to go back to the old house for breakfast.”

Ji Tanyuan’s heart sank, and she instantly woke up. “I’d rather not go.”

Zhong Yan paused. “…The old master is back.”

Ji Tanyuan whimpered softly, wrapping her arms around the man’s neck and burying her face in the crook of his shoulder as she pleaded, “Can we not go? I’m really dreading your family.”

Her sister-in-law kneeling before the elderly lady last time had left Ji Tanyuan deeply unsettled. Ever since that day, she often dreamed of herself dressed in an elegant qipao, kneeling with both hands raised above her head, respectfully offering tea.

Heavens, it was a nightmare.

Zhong Yan patted her back and delivered a firm response, “What do you think?”

Ji Tanyuan pressed her lips together and asked, “Did your mother, my mother-in-law, go through the same thing?”

He remained in a half-kneeling position while she leaned halfway off the sofa to embrace him, her full weight resting against him.

He could clearly feel the softness and fragrance of the woman in his arms. Her strapless evening gown couldn’t withstand such contortions, the bodice had slipped askew, revealing a generous expanse of skin.

Ji Tanyuan didn’t seem to mind. “Husband, my knees aren’t in good shape, remember? You said so yourself.”

Zhong Yan clicked his tongue. His wife really knew no boundaries, barely two months in, and she was already acting this coquettish.

He gently combed through her loose hair and asked casually, “So, are you still going home?”

“Of course I am. I even told Dad you’d come with me.”

She kissed Zhong Yan’s cheek. “You won’t go back on your word, will you? I’ve been very cooperative tonight.”

Zhong Yan lowered his gaze to meet Ji Tanyuan’s eyes. To be honest, she thought she had seen plenty of handsome men, fair-skinned, tan, mixed-race, but Zhong Yan gave her a different feeling altogether.

Was this the power of intimacy? Ji Tanyuan’s expression turned peculiar. Little did Zhong Yan know, as he watched her lost in thought, that her mind had wandered into rather risqué territory.

His hand slid slowly up her spine. Ji Tanyuan’s skin felt cool to the touch. His magnetic voice murmured by her ear, “Shall we go home?”

Ji Tanyuan tugged at his sleeve, preventing him from rising. “Tomorrow… I don’t want to do that. If you tell me to be obedient then, I won’t listen. I don’t like kneeling.”

Their hushed conversation continued, completely unaware that the door had cracked open slightly.

The hand that had been about to knock paused.

In the dim, hazy light of the room, the man’s tall figure was turned away from the door, kneeling on one knee beside the sofa and obscuring the upper body of the woman lying there. Only the hem of her skirt and her pale arm wrapped around his neck were visible, creating an intimate and tender atmosphere.

The person outside took a few steps back, turned, and walked away.