Four Years Ago, Her Husband Cheated on Her Body - Chapter 30.1

Lu Min had served Jia Qiao diligently for four years and considered himself the person who understood his master’s habits and preferences better than anyone else in the world.

It was rare to see his master care so much about a gift sent by someone else. Lu Min’s eyes were filled with curiosity, staring fixedly at the gift box in Jia Qiao’s hands, letting out small huffs of urging breath.

“…”

Jia Qiao’s hand, which was about to untie the ribbon, suddenly paused. He looked down at Lu Min.

“Your injuries aren’t healed yet. Go to sleep early.”

Having said that, before Lu Min could react, Jia Qiao took the gift—which was about the size of an urn—and returned to his room on his own.

???

Lu Min stood frozen on the spot, tilting his head in confusion.

For a moment, he didn’t know whether to be happy that “Master actually cared about me” or sad that “Master has a little secret from me.”

Could the person who sent the gift be someone special?

Who exactly sent that gift?!

Lu Min recalled the “Golden Retriever” [a nickname for a character type] who had handed him the gift. He frowned and shook his head vigorously.

Impossible! Absolutely impossible!!

Not a single strand of that Golden Retriever’s hair fit Jia Qiao’s aesthetic standards.

Otherwise, when the Golden Retriever had sent aromatherapy as a formal gift, Jia Qiao had expressed a look of disgust just by smelling it through the packaging.

In this world, if there was anyone who could truly make Jia Qiao care, shouldn’t it be that “fragrant, soft, little pampered husband” who liked cream-style decor and loved sweets?

Meanwhile, Jia Qiao returned to his room and placed the gift box on the bedside cabinet.

Even though he didn’t have a severe case of mysophobia, Jia Qiao couldn’t accept getting into bed with the dust of the outside world on him. Out of habit, he went into the bathroom first to shower and change into loungewear.

He usually took slow showers, lasting at least half an hour.

Today, however, he came out after only twenty minutes. He hadn’t even finished drying his hair completely, and only two buttons of his pajamas were fastened.

Jia Qiao’s long, semi-wet hair was draped over his shoulders. His pajama collar was open, revealing skin flushed from the warmth of the water.

Walking to the bedside, he picked up the gift box from the nightstand and untied the ribbon.

Inside was an exquisitely crafted… music box?

The music box had a two-tier structure. The upper tier was carved with intricate and gorgeous patterns.

The lower tier featured a water-and-oil seal, inside of which flowed small blue flowers with tender yellow stamens. The petals had been specially treated to stay in a permanent state of bloom.

It wasn’t until today that Jia Qiao learned the name of this flower—Forget-Me-Not.

Jia Qiao opened the lid of the music box. The internal mechanical device began to move, and a small girl appeared, slowly spinning around the music box.

At the same time, music began to play. It was a piano piece that was a bit… stumbling; one could tell the person playing it had clumsy technique.

Halfway through the piece, the spinning girl gradually changed her appearance.

She wore a pink princess dress and held a star magic wand in her hand.

—Jia Qiao remembered what this background music was.

It was the transformation BGM from Cardcaptor Sakura, the only song the kindergarten-version of Zhu Nanyu had ever managed to learn.

“Mmh, it really isn’t played well,” Jia Qiao evaluated heartlessly, yet he placed the music box by his bed and played it three times.

Perhaps because Zhu Nanyu’s playing was so terrible, it had zero sedative effect; the more he listened, the more he couldn’t fall asleep.

As the night grew deeper, the sound of rain pattering against the window persisted.

As time slowly approached midnight, Jia Qiao seemed to suddenly remember something important and lifted the covers to get out of bed.

Draping a robe over his pajamas, he walked to the corner between the bedroom and the walk-in closet, looking at the tattered, life-sized gift box leaning there.

When he first received it, Jia Qiao had spent a long time guessing what was inside.

After all, Zhu Nanyu was such a pervert; he might have actually sent a custom-made inflatable doll.

Later, because Zhu Nanyu never came home, he never opened the gift.

When he moved, Jia Qiao didn’t take anything belonging to Zhu Nanyu with him, yet he took this large gift box.

Because this was something Zhu Nanyu gave to him, it was already Jia Qiao’s possession.

When moving it, Jia Qiao found that the gift box was heavier than he imagined; it required two professional movers to lift it onto the truck.

Zhu Nanyu himself wasn’t even that heavy.

It probably wasn’t his inflatable doll inside.

As for what it actually was… Jia Qiao had previously felt it didn’t matter and hadn’t thought about opening it.

Tonight, he was suddenly curious.

Four years later, the wrapping paper of the gift had turned yellow and brittle; with a light tear, it peeled off completely.

Inside was a transparent display case, seemingly made of tempered glass. Under normal lighting, the internal structure wasn’t clear.

In the middle, there was a small button to control the lighting inside the box.

Jia Qiao pressed it. There was no… no power.

After four years, it was normal for the battery to be exhausted.

Unable to wait for it to charge, Jia Qiao turned on his phone’s flashlight to see the inside of the transparent box bit by bit.

Inside was an architectural model. There was a simple entrance on the surface, with a total of six underground levels.

The structure seemed quite complex, with each floor having an individual theme.

Even though he could only see a general outline, he could still sense a feeling of danger and excitement, along with a certain… hard-to-describe sense of déjà vu.

Jia Qiao leaned in closer to see better and noticed that two cards were tucked into the wrapping paper he had just torn off.

One was a black card, similar to a hotel room key.

The other card had writing on it—it was Zhu Nanyu’s handwriting.

‘Your world.’

An address was written below. It was a bit far from the city center, in an area where people rarely went.

There were also two lines of small print on the back of the card:

‘The scale of the project is larger than imagined. It might take another four years to be completely finished.’

‘However, I couldn’t wait to give it to my Jiao Jiao.’

“Four years?”

Isn’t that this year!

Jia Qiao flipped the card over to look at the address, then looked up to scrutinize the incredible model inside the transparent box.

“This thing…?”

After falling asleep last night, the rain had intensified, but Jia Qiao miraculously had no dreams and spent a peaceful, rainy night.

In the morning, after breakfast, Jia Qiao felt refreshed as he handled his work.

Unknowingly, he spent much more time than usual, not finishing until noon.

Because Zoa insisted on daily work reports, the other executives were influenced by it; now, whenever a major event occurred, they would ask for Jia Qiao’s opinion.

Over time, Jia Qiao’s involvement in the operations of Qianhe grew more and more, until he had become the de facto chairman of Qianhe in name and reality.

Previously, Jia Qiao couldn’t understand why Zoa wanted to add a “burden” like himself into the work process.

After uncovering Zoa’s identity, he realized: Zhu Nanyu really intended to hand Qianhe over to him.

When the two of them first got married, public opinion was full of talk saying Jia Qiao was greedy, calculating, and used his looks to serve others; he was cursed everywhere.

Since Jia Qiao was indeed after money, he didn’t care about those rumors.

But Zhu Nanyu cared.

When people cursed Jia Qiao, he felt a thousand times worse than Jia Qiao himself.

He had discussed it with Jia Qiao several times, asking if there was any field he was interested in.

“If you want to pursue art, I’ll hire the best teachers in the industry for you. If you want to enter the entertainment industry, I’ll pour money and resources into you to make you a top superstar.”

Jia Qiao had yawned listlessly, showing no interest. “But I only want to play games.”

Zhu Nanyu remained silent for a few seconds, looking unusually troubled. “Jiao Jiao, this… really won’t work.”

In other fields, Zhu Nanyu could find a way.

But in e-sports, being “trash” was the original sin.

“So annoying. If you want me to have a career so badly, why don’t you just let me have your position?” A certain “salted fish” [slang for a lazy person] had rolled over and said jokingly, “A wealthy CEO—doesn’t that sound prestigious? By then, they won’t call me a canary; they’ll call you a ‘soft-rice man’ [a man who lives off a woman].”

To his surprise, upon hearing Jia Qiao’s “ambitious” statement, Zhu Nanyu didn’t even think before nodding directly and saying, “Okay, I’ll arrange management classes for you tomorrow.”

Jia Qiao’s eyes had widened instantly. It took much persuasion, and even some active ‘seduction,’ to force Zhu Nanyu to drop the idea.

At that time, Jia Qiao completely couldn’t understand.

What was wrong with him staying at home and waiting to die?

Why did Zhu Nanyu try every means possible to give him a ‘career’?