Beautiful Wife: The Cold Boss is My Husband - Chapter 3

“Zhuo Xiao, did you slam the car door on me last night?”

Yan Chengming couldn’t hold back his loud questioning as he rushed to the bedroom in three quick strides, forcefully pushing the door open. It banged against the wall with a not-so-subtle thud.

Yet, in the unnervingly quiet room, the only response from the cocoon of blankets on the bed was a slight twitch of a leg. Beyond that, there was no reaction to the noise—an utterly abnormal silence.

The aggressive momentum in Yan Chengming’s steps instantly stilled. He swallowed down further accusations like, “Since when did you get so strong?” and glanced at the time.

8:32 AM.

The family company started work at 9 AM. Yan Chengming usually left home at 9 and arrived at the office by 9:15 not out of deliberate tardiness, but because of his rebellious nature, defying the overbearing control of his father and brother.

Zhuo Xiao, on the other hand, would have breakfast ready for him by 8:30.

Yan Chengming instinctively softened his footsteps as he climbed onto the bed and peeled back the blankets shrouding Zhuo Xiao’s head. This was something Zhuo Xiao used to do often, though Yan Chengming couldn’t remember where he’d read it, maybe some viral video claiming that this sleeping posture indicated insecurity.

Zhuo Xiao hadn’t slept like this in a long time.

A gut feeling told him something was wrong. Yan Chengming brushed aside the stray hairs clinging to Zhuo Xiao’s forehead, only to find the skin beneath burning hot. He lowered his voice, testing, “Zhuo Xiao?”

No response.

Yan Chengming tried again, “Wife?”

Zhuo Xiao stirred. His eyes fluttered open drowsily, still hazy with sleep, and he looked at Yan Chengming, who was mere inches away. His voice, usually cool and detached, was now warm and rough with sleep as he mumbled, “Hmm?”

Like melting spring snow, his tone carried an unexpected softness. Yan Chengming quickly freed Zhuo Xiao’s entire head from the blankets, gripping the back of his neck and adjusting his posture as if handling a ragdoll. “You’ve got a fever. Get some air. Don’t suffocate yourself.”

“Where did you put the fever medicine? I’ll get it for you,” Yan Chengming asked, fingers still resting on Zhuo Xiao’s nape.

From the back of Zhuo Xiao’s neck down to his shoulder stretched a striking tattoo that clashed entirely with his usual reserved demeanor. He often wore high-collared shirts, hiding it from view—only Yan Chengming at home ever saw it. A vivid peacock green intertwined with crimson, forming a rose in full bloom. At the center of the petals, textured and uneven, lay a scar half the length of a pinky finger.

Zhuo Xiao had once explained it was from helping his grandmother chop firewood in the mountains as a child, a wild dog had scratched him. He thought the scar was unsightly. Later, while working at a tattoo parlor for a month, the shop went bankrupt and couldn’t pay his wages, so the owner gave him the tattoo instead.

And honestly? For a month’s wages, the quality was impressive—smooth to the touch.

Yan Chengming’s question was spoken at a normal volume, something Zhuo Xiao would’ve easily heard and answered if he were fully awake. But clearly, that brief moment of lucidity had already been swallowed back by the fever’s haze, pulling him under once more.

Frowning, Yan Chengming stroked his cheek before getting up to search for the medicine himself.

Zhuo Xiao managed all household matters. After scouring every possible spot where medicine could be stored, it was already 8:50. Clutching the box, Yan Chengming carefully read the instructions before popping out two pills from the blister pack with a crisp snap. His face the picture of foolish handsomeness.

One slipped and fell.

He paused for a second, stubbornly refusing to bend down and pick it up. Instead, he popped out another one, poured a glass of lukewarm water, and headed back to the bedroom.

After placing everything in his hands on the bedside table, Yan Chengming carefully climbed back onto the bed and nudged Zhuo Xiao. “Honey, wake up.”

Zhuo Xiao still showed no response.

At this point, Yan Chengming thought he’d try calling once more. If there was no reaction, he’d just call an ambulance. He leaned in closer, his tall nose brushing against Zhuo Xiao’s feverishly flushed cheek, and said, “Time to take your medicine.”

Only then did Zhuo Xiao stir slightly. His tightly furrowed brows relaxed a little as he slowly opened his bleary eyes, tilting his head to look over. His gaze was hazy, devoid of its usual brightness, and deep within his eyes lay emotions Yan Chengming couldn’t decipher.

For some reason, the moment their eyes met, the lifeless dullness in Zhuo Xiao’s gaze suddenly rippled with vitality. His eyes reddened as he sniffled, his voice hoarse as he murmured, “Husband.” Then, extending his slender, pale arms, he wrapped them around Yan Chengming’s neck, pressing his warm body close.

Yan Chengming found himself inexplicably enveloped in his wife’s fragrant embrace. Dazed but delighted, he savored the moment before belatedly asking, “Ah, did you have a nightmare?”

“Mhm,” Zhuo Xiao replied softly.

“It’s okay, I’m here. Don’t be scared,” Yan Chengming reassured, gently patting Zhuo Xiao’s back and pressing his head against his broad chest, deliberately straightening his posture.

After holding him for a while longer, once Zhuo Xiao had calmed down, Yan Chengming fetched the medicine.

Zhuo Xiao glanced at the pill and water placed before him, but instead of feeling touched by the gesture, he hesitated and asked, “Where did you find this medicine?”

He didn’t dare take it.

Yan Chengming confidently named the location.

Zhuo Xiao, his mind still foggy, tried to recall and confirmed it was indeed fever-reducing medicine before swallowing the pill.

Then, swaying unsteadily, he got out of bed only to nearly miss his footing. Yan Chengming swiftly caught him, his heart pounding as he scolded, “You’re running a fever! What are you doing moving around like this?!”

Zhuo Xiao lifted his gaze, his voice weak as he said, “You’re going to be late for work. I was going to make you breakfast.”

The irritation on Yan Chengming’s face quickly faded. He had originally planned to question Zhuo Xiao about yesterday’s events after he took the medicine, but now, those words struck him deeply.

What was there to ask?

Zhuo Xiao was burning up like Mount Fuji, yet even in his sickly state, he still remembered to cook for him! How could someone so delicate, adorable, pitiable, protective, sensible, virtuous, beautiful, graceful, understanding, and self-sacrificing possibly do something like slamming Yan Chengming’s head in a car door?

It had to be an illusion!

Clearly, the aftereffects of the car accident were worse than he thought. Not only was he forgetting things when drunk, but his brain was now fabricating hallucinations to wrong his wife without him even realizing it.

Yan Chengming decided he should get it checked out—but he couldn’t tell Zhuo Xiao, or he’d just worry him more.

He pulled Zhuo Xiao back onto the bed and pressed him down, saying earnestly, “It’s fine. I’m not going to work today. I’ll stay home with you.”

Truthfully, he didn’t want to go to the office and see Yan Chenrui’s lifeless face anyway.

Sinking into the soft mattress, Zhuo Xiao’s eyes brightened slightly at Yan Chengming’s words, his lips quirking up before he quickly suppressed it. Frowning, he demurred, “How can that be? It wouldn’t be good to delay work because of me. I can stay home alone. After taking the medicine, I’ll just sleep it off. There’s no need to trouble yourself, husband.”

He leaned forward, resting against Yan Chengming’s chest, tilting his head slightly upward. His eyes glistened with fragility, his face pale, embodying the delicate image of a dodder vine that couldn’t survive without care.

Just as Zhuo Xiao was waiting for Yan Chengming to resolutely refute his words and stay home.

“Alright then.” Yan Chengming frowned, thinking that even while sick, Zhuo Xiao was still concerned about his work and future. He should turn over a new leaf, work hard, and achieve something worthy of him. With a pained heart, he gently stroked Zhuo Xiao’s fallen hair. “I’ll listen to you. I’ll go to work, and you rest well at home.”

It might have been an illusion, but Yan Chengming felt Zhuo Xiao’s posture stiffen slightly.

“…Okay.” Zhuo Xiao took a deep breath, gritting his teeth while still maintaining a soft, fragile tone. “I’ll take care of myself.”

Five minutes later.

Yan Chengming confidently strode into the kitchen, ready to prepare a simple, light breakfast for himself.

He thought to himself that modern appliances were straightforward, and as a fully functional adult, there was nothing he couldn’t handle. But after staring at the high-end smart induction stove with its complicated touchscreen buttons, he fell silent.

After searching for the manual for ten minutes and watching tutorials for fifteen, Yan Chengming felt his head itch as if his brain was about to grow. He decisively gave up and shamelessly rummaged through the fridge, where he indeed found an abundance of dishes wrapped in cling film.

After quickly reheating them in the microwave, Yan Chengming was packing the bento box with chopsticks when Zhuo Xiao appeared.

Standing beside him, Zhuo Xiao couldn’t help but say, “Honey, this is from last night. Maybe I should make you something fresh.”

“It’s fine.” Yan Chengming replied instinctively, but then quickly realized his dignity as the vice president of Yan Corporation was slipping. He coughed and said seriously, “I don’t have much appetite, so I won’t eat.”

“Then this…” Zhuo Xiao’s gaze swept over the bento box in Yan Chengming’s hands.

Yan Chengming blurted out, “This is for the stray dog, Da Huang, downstairs at the office. No point letting it go to waste—might as well feed it to a dog.”

“I see.” Zhuo Xiao mused, noticing the way Yan Chengming unconsciously touched his nose while speaking. He smoothly took the chopsticks from Yan Chengming’s hand and added a few extra-large shrimp to the already overflowing bento box. “Then pack more. That ‘dog’ must have a big appetite.”

“…” Yan Chengming’s lips twitched.

As Yan Chengming walked out with the “dog food” for the first time, he heard something fall behind him. Turning back, he saw Zhuo Xiao bending over to pick up a walnut ornament from the carpet, weakly pressing a hand to his forehead. “I accidentally knocked it over. It’s fine, honey. You can go now.”

Yan Chengming gave an “oh” and turned around again, only to hear another call from behind: “Honey…”

He paused and turned back a second time to see Zhuo Xiao gazing at him expectantly, holding out a key.

Taking the key, Yan Chengming turned around for the third time only to hear yet another “Honey…” His eyelid twitched, and he couldn’t help but ask, “What now?”

“Your tie is crooked.” Zhuo Xiao leaned in, his head resting against Yan Chengming’s chin. The familiar scent of their shared shampoo filled the air, and Yan Chengming’s throat moved slightly.

Zhuo Xiao finished tightening his tie but didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he lingered at close proximity, his hand hovering ambiguously over Yan Chengming’s waist. Yan Chengming knew he was reluctant to let him go, but there was no helping it. He was a domineering CEO with heavy responsibilities, shouldering the burden for their household. Whatever others had, Zhuo Xiao would have; whatever others didn’t, Zhuo Xiao would still have.

He clicked his tongue, brushing aside the hair on Zhuo Xiao’s forehead with his hand. His large palm pressed briefly against the feverish skin before withdrawing. Leaning down slightly, he planted a kiss as a soothing gesture.

“Alright, be good and sleep at home.” With those words, Yan Chengming turned decisively, stepping resolutely out of the tender embrace, leaving behind a weighty silhouette.

By the time his figure had completely vanished, the softness in Zhuo Xiao’s eyes, standing at the entryway, slowly faded. Soon after, the deliberately crafted expression on his face dissolved as well. After a long moment, he touched his forehead impassively. The searing imprint of lips had long since melted away along with the scalding warmth, absorbed into his body.

The corners of his lips lifted faintly before quickly dropping again, as if he found even that slight movement bothersome. Zhuo Xiao took a sip of water and, with a dazed head, walked into the bedroom. Without hesitation, he burrowed into the exact spot where Yan Chengming had slept and closed his eyes. The warmth had long since dissipated, but the scent remained.

This time, the blanket was neatly arranged, leaving his overheating head completely exposed.

Half an hour later, the muted phone on the nightstand lit up briefly before dimming again. A message had arrived.

[Chen Xi: President Zhuo, I’ve arrived in City A. Are you available to meet today?]