The Obedient Stand-in is Raised by the Deceased Husband - Chapter 1

The autumn rain in Jinbin pattered softly, the night air carrying a hint of coolness.

From the private room on the top floor of the Dingwan Hotel came the sound of chaotic footsteps.

Shen Que’s face was flushed with an unnatural redness as he huddled trembling in the corner, desperately clutching a wine bottle in both hands, holding it up in front of him to fend off the ugly man slowly closing in.

“Don’t… don’t come any closer! I’ll call the police!” Shen Que’s delicate threat sounded more like an invitation.

The large, burly man, his body jiggling with fat, reached out to grab Shen Que by the waist.

Startled, Shen Que turned pale and, in a panic, threw the wine bottle. It crashed to the floor with a loud bang.

The sour, foul stench emanating from the middle-aged man made Shen Que nauseous.

“Playing hard to get with me, huh?”

Waves of heat surged through Shen Que’s lower abdomen, and with nothing at hand to protect himself, he soon fell helplessly into the man’s embrace.

Slap—

The old man’s strike left Shen Que dizzy and disoriented. He collapsed to the floor, his cheek burning with pain.

The commotion inside the room was so loud that his cries and the man’s curses could be heard clearly in the hallway.

Shen Que was in agony, his vision blurred and his mind hazy. He wept like a frightened kitten, flailing helplessly to protect himself, but the heat coursing through his body only made his situation worse.

Shen Que never imagined that after finally enduring until Sheng Xuanzhu’s death—free from being forced to act as a substitute—his agency would resort to such despicable means, sending him to sleep with an investor!

“Help! Someone help!” Trapped and unable to escape, Shen Que could only pin his hopes on his manager outside the door.

Listening to the noise inside, He Yuan had long grown numb.

Suddenly, a figure appeared at the end of the hallway. He Yuan tensed instantly. “Xuan… President Xuan?”

Sheng Xuanzhu approached, his steps measured. Whether it was the discomfort of the disguise on his face or the cries for help from inside the room that displeased him, he coldly brushed past He Yuan and reached for the door.

“President Xuan!”

It was an unspoken rule at the Dingwan Hotel: no one was allowed to force their way into the top-floor private rooms unless a life was at stake. This rule existed both to protect the guests’ identities and to prevent scandals from leaking—otherwise, the company, the boss, and the artists would all be ruined.

For the sake of his future livelihood, He Yuan had no choice but to steel himself and block Sheng Xuanzhu’s path. “President Xuan, this goes against the rules.”

Sheng Xuanzhu glanced sideways at him, his voice low and oppressive. “Since when do you make the rules in my hotel?”

The man’s tone was so heavy it forced He Yuan to avert his gaze, falling silent in fear.

The sudden rush of fresh air made Shen Que realize someone had arrived. Desperately, he reached out and grabbed the newcomer’s pant leg.

Anyone, please, save me!

Sheng Xuanzhu stood motionless, watching the person he had longed for day and night being bullied by a pig. A raging fire burned in his heart.

The middle-aged man, still unaware of the danger, dared to extend an enthusiastic invitation. “President Xuan, care to join us?”

After a moment of silence, the man finally sensed the hellish chill emanating from Sheng Xuanzhu.

“Get out.”

A single word sent Manager Zhang scrambling out of the room in terror.

Shen Que remained in a state of panic, tears streaming uncontrollably down his face, his sobs grating on Sheng Xuanzhu’s nerves.

Sheng Xuanzhu crouched down, pinching Shen Que’s swollen cheek to examine it closely.

Shen Que’s eyes brimmed with tears, his gaze trembling as he looked up. His

But in Sheng Xuanzhu’s eyes, it was no longer Shen Que he saw—it was his deceased expression was full of grievance, a pitiful, fox-like charm that tugged at the heart strings lover. He imagined his beloved omega being mistreated by a villain, now weeping in sorrow.

Assistant Bian followed closely behind. Seeing Shen Que’s face, which bore an uncanny resemblance to Wen Zhibai, he thoughtfully handed Sheng Xuanzhu an overcoat.

Sheng Xuanzhu reached out, took it, and immediately wrapped it around the person, instinctively pulling him into his embrace. “No one dares to bully you now.”

Shen Que was momentarily stunned, looking at the man in disbelief. His nose twitched, and he forgot to cry.

The man’s pupils were deep, filled with gentle warmth. His features were unremarkable, yet the bone structure beneath was strikingly handsome and three-dimensional, creating an illusion that such beauty did not belong to this face.

This alpha, both in appearance and comforting words, deeply moved Shen Que.

Having never received protection from a stranger before, Shen Que choked up again, tears as large as beans falling onto Sheng Xuanzhu’s hand. “Th-thank you.”

Sheng Xuanzhu’s brow twitched slightly. A familiar yet restless warmth surged through his heart. Shen Que’s every move made him wonder if Wen Zhibai had truly returned.

Suddenly, a faint floral fragrance drifted over, the subtle pheromones pulling Sheng Xuanzhu back to reality.

Wen Zhibai had carried a rich scent of alcohol—this was entirely different from Shen Que.

In an instant, Shen Que felt the man’s gaze shift. His pupils remained deep, but now they felt like falling into an abyss—piercingly cold and intimidating.

It reminded Shen Que of the black-and-white funeral portrait of Sheng Xuanzhu.

Cold, distant.

Sheng Xuanzhu stiffly pulled Shen Que up and shoved him toward Assistant Bian, casually grabbing a napkin to wipe his hands.

Shen Que had thought he was saved, but he never expected Sheng Xuanzhu’s expression to remain indifferent, his tone even colder:

“Tell He Yuan—this person is mine now.”

Support