Beautiful Wife: The Cold Boss is My Husband - Chapter 4

The Maybach screeched to a flamboyant stop in front of the company building. Yan Chengming stepped out wearing sunglasses and tossed the keys to the security guard.

Assistant Liu, who had been idly waiting for ages, reflexively stood up the moment he entered and handed him an iced Americano. “President Yan.”

Yan Chengming’s actual position in the company was vice president—the real CEO was his older brother, Yan Chenrui. Yan Chengming disliked being called “Vice President,” so employees addressed him as “President Yan” to his face, while privately referring to him as “Little President Yan” to distinguish between the two.

Yan Chengming nodded, took a sip of the coffee, and glanced at Assistant Liu’s computer screen out of the corner of his eye. “What are you looking at?”

“Ah, nothing, nothing!” Assistant Liu’s eyelids twitched as he frantically closed the job-hunting tab on his screen. But in his panic, he accidentally clicked open another chat window instead.

The massive display now showcased Assistant Liu’s despair in glaring, unmistakable detail.

[Assistant Liu: Rumor has it the company’s restructuring salaries! [crying]]

[Assistant Yuan: You heard about it too? But jobs are hard to come by these days. Even if they cut our pay, we’ll just have to stick it out.]

[Assistant Liu: It’s different for me. You might get a pay cut, but I’ll probably be laid off. Gotta start looking ASAP, ugh.]

Assistant Liu: “…”

If there were a textbook on social suicide, his blunder today—”job-hunting and badmouthing the company right in front of his direct superior” would undoubtedly become a legendary case study, immortalized for generations.

He wanted to die on the spot. Standing there in a daze, Assistant Liu stammered, trying to salvage the situation. “Uh… President Yan, have you eaten yet?” He nearly bit his tongue as he spoke, cursing himself for being so inept. Why had he blurted out something completely unrelated to work?

This was it. He was going to lose his job before even securing another one.

To his surprise, Yan Chengming didn’t say a word. He merely withdrew his gaze indifferently and raised the lovingly packed lunch box in his hand. “I’ll eat later.”

Assistant Liu, trembling like a quail, froze in shock.

Yan Chenrui either didn’t trust his intelligence or still saw him as a child needing shelter under his wing. Either way, the tasks assigned to Yan Chengming were laughably simple, and he finished them quickly.

Just as he was about to check on Zhuo Xiao, his fingers barely grazing his phone, a sudden chill ran down his spine, every hair on his body standing on end.

Instinctively, Yan Chengming set his phone down and looked up, locking eyes with Yan Chenrui through the glass window.

Yan Chenrui’s hair was slicked back impeccably, his sharp facial features accentuated by piercing, cold eyes beneath single eyelids. His gaze, seemingly casual, carried an icy detachment—like a headteacher peering through the back door of a classroom, exuding undeniable authority.

Yan Chengming’s brows furrowed deeply, his entire body tensing up reflexively.

This was exactly why he hated coming to the office. Not only was he denied the respect he deserved, but every workday felt like a prison sentence. Yan Chenrui had even deliberately designed the office with full-glass walls just to monitor his every move.

And given that they’d just had a fight, Yan Chenrui’s next move was likely to be even more extreme.

Yesterday, Yan Chengming, holding a proposal he had spent a week refining, knocked on Yan Chenrui’s door and triumphantly tossed it onto his desk. “Look, I’ve found a solution. The risks are a bit high, but the returns are substantial. Following this will definitely solve the company’s urgent problems,” he declared proudly.

The Yan Group was currently pouring all its resources into developing a highly advanced and crucial technology. Success would elevate the company’s commercial standing to new heights. However, the high costs of R&D equipment, materials, and talent had strained the company’s finances.

Yan Chenrui glanced at the proposal’s cover and, without even flipping through it, casually tossed it into the trash. His thin lips parted slightly as he remarked coldly, “I don’t believe someone with your intellect and reckless temperament could produce anything of value. Instead of wasting time on this, you’d be better off finalizing your divorce and obediently entering an arranged marriage. That, at least, is a practical solution.”

For a moment, Yan Chengming wasn’t sure what angered him more. The fact that his hard work had been so callously dismissed or Yan Chenrui’s insistence on him divorcing. His face flushed with rage, and he snapped, “Are you insane? Is an arranged marriage the only path forward? Besides, I’m gay! Even if I divorce my wife, I still am! And that girl wouldn’t even like me and even if she did, I couldn’t do that to her!”

In stark contrast to his furious outburst, Yan Chenrui’s expression remained perfectly composed—only cracking slightly when Yan Chengming shouted, “I’m gay!”

After confirming the door was shut, Yan Chenrui spoke icily, “Do you think shouting like this is something to be proud of? You’re 24 and have only had one relationship with that so-called Xiao just to spite the family. You even rushed into a flash marriage. You’re emotionally immature. How can you be sure of your sexual orientation if you’ve never even dated a woman? The Hao family’s daughter wrote you love letters in school. How could she not like you?”

“What do you mean ‘so-called Xiao’? His name is Zhuo Xiao! Zhuo! Xiao!” Yan Chengming jabbed a finger in the air, growing even angrier. He couldn’t believe Yan Chenrui didn’t even know his wife’s name, proof of how little he cared. “And those weren’t love letters, they were—”

He stopped abruptly, realizing he’d said too much.

“Were what?” Yan Chenrui pressed, his brow furrowing.

“None of your business!” Yan Chengming squirmed under his piercing gaze. Years of suppression in this stifling environment weighed on him, and in a moment of reckless frustration, he lashed out, “No matter what, I won’t agree to an arranged marriage. What kind of sustainable future can come from such tactics? If you want an alliance so badly, marry her yourself!”

Yan Chenrui remained unmoved, as unyielding as a boulder, his expression cold and his tone indifferent, as if dealing with a petulant child. “This isn’t up for debate.”

“What are you going to do, then? Lock me up and force me to divorce and remarry? Just like Dad did to Mom? You really are just like him. Cut from the same cloth.” Yan Chengming’s anger suddenly gave way to bitter laughter. “You were like this even as a kid. Just standing by, even stopping me from speaking up. Of course, she wasn’t your birth mother. No matter how well she treated you, it meant nothing.”

As the last word left his lips, Yan Chengming nearly bit his tongue. Seeing the unmistakable shock in Yan Chenrui’s eyes, a pang of guilt surged through him—like the sharp stab of a knife after wounding someone. To maintain the “upper hand” he had fought so hard for in their verbal sparring, Yan Chengming dared not look at Yan Chenrui’s expression any longer. He forced his face to remain impassive, though his bravado had already weakened considerably.

Bang.

Yan Chengming slammed the door shut behind him, the sound grating and jarring. It was unclear whether it signaled victory or a hasty retreat.

…

“Tch.”

The events of yesterday’s battle flashed through his mind in an instant. Yan Chengming felt a sour taste in his mouth. Those words he had held them back for years, and it was the first time he had uttered them in front of Yan Chenrui. Yet, instead of any sense of satisfaction, all he felt was an overwhelming frustration.

He shook his head, deciding to push the thoughts aside. Instead, he tensed up, lifting himself from the chair’s backrest as if preparing to stand, bracing for Yan Chenrui’s inevitable reprimand.

Yan Chenrui’s indifferent gaze lingered on his defensive posture for a brief moment before casually shifting away.

…Shifted away?

Yan Chengming wondered if he was hallucinating again. In the past, Yan Chenrui would have undoubtedly worn that infuriatingly condescending expression. The one that screamed “I can’t believe how stupid you are”—before standing up, walking over, tapping his fingers on the desk, and delivering a cold, haughty warning like “Mind your work attitude,” only to turn and leave just as swiftly.

Even after dragging the anti-spy whiteboard he had specially bought to block the direct line of sight into Yan Chenrui’s office, Yan Chengming still felt dazed.

Muttering to himself about how “this isn’t right” and “it’s too surreal,” he pulled out his phone and hastily booked an appointment with a neurologist.

By the time he finished dealing with that, it was already lunchtime. Yan Chengming hadn’t eaten anything all morning, having only downed an iced Americano. His stomach growled loudly—empty enough to not just hold eggs or chicken legs, but an entire chicken family.

He reheated his lunch in the office microwave. The repeated warming had deepened the flavors of the dishes, making them tender and juicy. Taking a deep breath, Yan Chengming savored the aroma. Every whiff carried the taste of his wife’s love.

As he shoveled food into his mouth, he distractedly sent a message to Zhuo Xiao: “Wifey, are you awake? Hungry? There’s a Cantonese place that’s light and taste. Want me to order delivery for you?”

There was no reply for a long time. Assuming Zhuo Xiao was still asleep, Yan Chengming gave up.

Scrolling through his social media, he spotted a post from an old high school classmate, Gu Yu, whom he hadn’t seen in ages. The location tag showed an airport abroad, with the caption: “Coming home.”

If this were a campus romance novel, Yan Chengming’s high school persona would have been the spoiled, troublemaking rich second-generation antagonist. The kind who glares red-eyed, hands on hips, ready to throw down his life for drama. Gu Yu, on the other hand, would have been the textbook male lead: effortlessly topping the class rankings, excelling in every virtue, the aloof school heartthrob who helped old ladies cross the street after school.

But reality and fiction don’t always align. Yan Chengming had never actually “glared red-eyed” or “thrown down his life.” Throughout high school, he hadn’t even experienced a single flutter of romantic interest. The most ambiguous thing he’d done was sneak into a friend’s dorm after a fight with his family, squeezing into the same bed late at night to read comics by flashlight. Nor had he ever locked horns with Gu Yu, fighting over some boy or girl like rivals in a soap opera.

Their first meeting had been in a stairwell, where they’d both skipped gym class except Gu Yu had been solving math problems, while Yan Chengming slurped cup noodles and read CEO romance novels.

After receiving a substantial scholarship, Gu Yu went abroad to study and subsequently stayed to work overseas. He had excelled academically during his student years, and his professional competence was equally impressive, leading to rapid promotions. No one knew why he suddenly returned to the country, seemingly planning to stay for good.

In any case, Yan Chengming slowed his eating pace, his brow slightly furrowed in thought. After a moment, he solemnly opened Gu Yu’s chat window and typed a few words.

There were still a few large shrimp left, but Yan Chengming couldn’t eat any more. He closed the lunchbox, checked the time, and fidgeted restlessly for a while before finally standing up and grabbing his car keys. Casually, he said, “Xiao Liu, I’m heading out early today. Contact me if there’s an emergency.”

His wife was at home, sick and hungry, and he had already finished all his work. Yan Chengming saw no reason to waste time sitting around like a prisoner, so he decided to just leave early.

Assistant Liu’s workstation was empty. Assistant Yuan, passing by, noticed Yan Chengming’s anxious demeanor and said, “Ah, Director Yan, Assistant Liu isn’t here. Should I pass along a message for you?”

Only then did Yan Chengming remember that he had sent Assistant Liu out on an errand. Impatiently, he nodded. “That’ll do.”

Two minutes later, back at his own workstation, Assistant Yuan picked up a document and knocked on Yan Chengrui’s door.

As Yan Chengrui took the document and lowered his gaze to read it, Assistant Yuan couldn’t help but add, “Director Yan, didn’t you previously ask me to keep an eye on Young Director Yan’s every move? Just now, I saw him leave work early.”