Psst! We're moving!
The next day was the Mid-Autumn Festival.
Yu Jingxin had lunch plans with her father and would be heading to the Ji family for dinner in the evening.
Ji Qingyuan emerged from the walk-in closet, fully dressed.
Yu Jingxin glanced at him, her gaze lingering on his face before drifting down to his waist, then she averted her eyes.
Ji Qingyuan noticed her scrutiny—the way her assessing eyes lingered on his waist. He suspected that if it weren’t for his wealth and stamina, she might have divorced him long ago.
After being married for so long, the money he’d given her was enough to buy a Gulfstream 550, yet she hadn’t spent a single cent on him.
In bed, it was always him taking the initiative to please her.
Even so, she was never satisfied. She’d snap at him without warning—perfectly fine when they left for work in the morning, only to unleash a storm the moment they got home.
The longest cold war between them lasted eleven days without a single word from her.
Well, not entirely silent. At night, in bed, she’d still call his name.
He kept meticulous accounts of all these grievances.
It was about time to get up, but Yu Jingxin couldn’t find her pajamas.
The bed was stripped bare except for a single blanket.
She looked around—there wasn’t a single piece of clothing in the bedroom, not even a towel.
Ji Qingyuan must have pulled a fast one, hiding all her clothes.
For the past year, he hadn’t allowed her to sleep in clothes, insisting on holding her like this every night, kissing her repeatedly.
He claimed clothes were a hassle—too much trouble to take off, and they’d just get ruined.
To save her money, he suggested she simply not wear any.
What he didn’t know was that she actually liked sleeping like this too, so she went along with it. There was something undeniably nice about being skin-to-skin with him, no barriers between them.
But this morning, he hadn’t left a single piece of clothing for her.
Yu Jingxin decided to wait until he left the bedroom before getting up, burrowing deeper under the covers to sleep a little longer.
Twenty minutes passed, and he still showed no sign of leaving.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of him sitting on the sofa, reading a book with his legs casually crossed, looking every bit the refined gentleman—deliberately positioned to face the bed.
She turned away, refusing to look at him.
Ji Qingyuan glanced up, thinking she might want to sleep in a little longer.
Another half-hour passed without movement.
He’d already read the book in his hands several times, practically memorized it. Tossing it aside, he picked up his phone.
The stock market was closed for the holiday, but the financial news was livelier than on a weekday. The headlines were all about the Li family.
The internal power struggle within the Li family had finally ended. Li Yanzhuo and his father emerged victorious from the bloody battle for control of the conglomerate.
When the market reopened in two days, the Li family’s stocks were bound to soar.
From now on, Li Yanzhuo would have absolute authority in the group.
Ji Qingyuan had a sneaking suspicion that Li Yanzhuo had timed this announcement deliberately—just to ruin his holiday.
He skimmed past the Li family news. There was no point dwelling on it since he and Li Yanzhuo would never collaborate anyway, especially since the Yu family had little to no dealings with the Lis.
His gaze drifted to the woman on the bed. He wondered how thrilled she’d be upon hearing that the man she loved had seized power.
But that wasn’t his biggest concern. What he really needed to worry about was whether Yu Jingxin would divorce him over this. After all, Li Yanzhuo’s net worth wasn’t insignificant now.
Ji Qingyuan set his phone down and walked over to the bed, nudging her. “Time to get up.”
Yu Jingxin hadn’t been asleep at all. Annoyed, she snapped, “Wait for me downstairs.”
Ji Qingyuan didn’t budge, tugging at the corner of the blanket.
Yu Jingxin glared. “What are you doing?”
Ji Qingyuan: “I need to make the bed.”
Yu Jingxin: “...”
Ji Qingyuan pressed on. “Get up. We’ll be late for lunch with your dad.”
Yu Jingxin checked his watch. “It’s not even seven yet!”
Ji Qingyuan always had a retort ready: “Can’t you go home early and spend more time with him?”
Yu Jingxin clenched the blanket tightly, sitting up while wrapping it around herself.
She had no idea why he was being so difficult or what he was trying to achieve.
But she wasn’t about to let him have the upper hand.
Securing the blanket around her, she reached out and tugged his shirt free from his pants, then began unbuttoning it.
Ji Qingyuan froze. This was the first time she’d ever taken the initiative like this. Bracing his hands on either side of her, he leaned down to accommodate her. He thought she wanted him.
Fine by him. If she wanted it, he’d give it to her.
While she fumbled with the buttons, he dipped his head to kiss her lips—softly, teasingly.
Yu Jingxin was too preoccupied keeping the blanket from slipping to undo the buttons efficiently.
Ji Qingyuan took over with one hand, undoing the lower buttons while she worked from the top.
Once the shirt was off, just as he moved to pull her into his arms, she shoved him away abruptly.
Yu Jingxin yanked his shirt onto herself, threw off the blanket, and strode barefoot to the bathroom, barely bothering to fasten the buttons as she clutched the fabric closed. The shirt was just long enough to cover everything that needed covering.
Her reluctance to get up earlier hadn’t been out of shyness—after all, they did this every day. She just hadn’t wanted to give him the satisfaction when he deliberately left her with nothing to wear.
Ji Qingyuan hadn’t expected to be played. Realizing he’d even helped her undo the buttons, he suddenly felt the urge to bang his head against something.
A loud thud followed by a click—the bathroom door locked behind her.
Yu Jingxin didn’t spend long in the shower that morning. A quick rinse, mostly to wash her hair, which Ji Qingyuan had twisted into a messy knot the night before, leaving it disheveled when let down.
In less than half an hour, she pushed the bathroom door open.
She’d assumed Ji Qingyuan would have gone downstairs or changed into fresh clothes by now, but he remained exactly as before—shirtless, seated on the sofa, staring in her direction with the air of someone preparing to settle scores.
The bed was neatly made.
Since the housekeeper wouldn’t enter while they were still in the bedroom, he must have done it himself.
Yu Jingxin pretended not to notice, heading for the vanity.
Ji Qingyuan strode over, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward the walk-in closet. Yu Jingxin instinctively tried to wrench free. “Ji Qingyuan, what are you doing?!”
Ji Qingyuan shot her a look. “What do you think? Finding me something to wear.”
Yu Jingxin: “...”
With that kind of attitude, why should she help him get dressed?
She yanked her hand back harder.
As her hand slipped from his grasp, Ji Qingyuan tightened his grip.
For a split second, Yu Jingxin felt like the bones in her hand might snap from the pressure—a sharp, piercing pain. She slapped at him with her other hand. “Let go!”
Ji Qingyuan ignored her, refusing to release her.
The pain became unbearable. Yu Jingxin’s eyes stung with unshed tears, and the fury she’d been suppressing finally erupted. “Ji Qingyuan! Even if you refuse to treat me as gently as you did your ex-girlfriend, do you have to be so rough?!”
The words hung in the air, leaving both of them stunned.
The bedroom fell dead silent.
Ji Qingyuan blinked. He’d just been teasing her, wanting her to pick out an outfit and help him into it. If she didn’t want to, fine—but why hurl accusations like that?
He’d only held her hand. How had that escalated to him being rough?
Suddenly, it all felt pointless. Ji Qingyuan released her.
He hadn’t realized that what felt like a light grip to him was painful for her.
Ji Qingyuan was thoroughly incensed. Just last night, he’d finally managed to smooth things over after their fight. And now, less than a day later, she was picking another one. This kind of life seemed endless.
He looked at her. “I’ve never brought up the person you like. So could you please not mention my ex-girlfriend?” He hated the idea of other people poisoning their relationship.
She’d once claimed she didn’t care about his past relationships. Now she was throwing them in his face. It was exhausting.
His words—So could you please not mention my ex-girlfriend?—had been ambiguous. To Yu Jingxin, it sounded like he was defending Leng Wenning, forbidding her from speaking ill of her.
For the first time, Yu Jingxin apologized—though it was for Leng Wenning’s sake. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up your ex. I didn’t mean it maliciously. It won’t happen again.”
They still had lunch plans, so no matter how upset she was, she sat down at the vanity to do her makeup.
Ji Qingyuan stood there for a while, still feeling wronged.
He walked over, aggrieved. “I didn’t squeeze that hard earlier. I put all the clothes you changed out of last night in the laundry. I didn’t know what you wanted to wear today, so I waited all morning for you to wake up and help you pick something. And then you went and took my clothes off—fine, I’ll let that slide. While you were showering, I made the bed. And how do you repay me? By accusing me of being rough? If you didn’t want to help me get dressed, you could’ve just said so. No need to act like I’ve wronged you beyond measure.”
Yu Jingxin: “...”
Ji Qingyuan turned and marched into the walk-in closet. He couldn’t stay shirtless forever, so he swallowed his anger and dressed himself.
Outside, Yu Jingxin was still processing his outburst. So he hadn’t hidden her clothes on purpose.
But since he’d defended his ex, they were even.
When Ji Qingyuan reemerged, she was still sitting at the mirror, lost in thought—who knew what was going through her mind now?
His gaze inadvertently landed on her right hand. Even after several minutes, the back of her fair hand was still flushed red.
Only then did it dawn on him that she hadn’t been exaggerating earlier—he really had gripped her too hard, even if it hadn’t felt like much to him.
Ji Qingyuan approached, abandoning the cufflinks he’d been about to fasten.
He reached for her hand, intending to kiss it by way of apology, but she immediately pulled away, refusing to let him touch her.
“Let me see.”
Yu Jingxin kept her expression blank. “Nothing to see.”
Ji Qingyuan had no choice but to haul her to her feet, steering her by the shoulders. “This time, I didn’t push you hard, so don’t go calling me rough later.”
Yu Jingxin: “...”
She shot him a glare over her shoulder. “What do you want now?”
Ji Qingyuan maneuvered her to the edge of the bed. “To make up.”
Yu Jingxin: “...”
Before she could react, she was flat on her back.
Ji Qingyuan stood beside the bed, bracing his hands on either side of her as he loomed over her. “Since you like undressing me so much, here’s your chance. Go ahead, unbutton me.”
Yu Jingxin was speechless. “Is this the only trick you know?!”
Ji Qingyuan nipped at her lightly—reminding himself to be gentle this time—before trailing kisses down her face, from her eyes to her nose and beyond.
Yu Jingxin didn’t reciprocate, letting him do all the work.
This was the first and only time they’d ever been intimate during the day.
The sting in Yu Jingxin’s right hand flared up again—maybe her skin was just too sensitive. She lifted it to her mouth, blowing on it lightly.
And he’d claimed he hadn’t squeezed hard. A little more force, and he might’ve fractured her bones right then and there.
If that happened, he could forget about touching this hand ever again.
While she was distracted, the sash of her robe came undone.
Early autumn brought a slight chill. Without the robe, exposed to the air, she shivered slightly.
His kisses continued.
Slowly, they traveled below her waistline.
Yu Jingxin bit her lip, refusing to make a sound.
Ji Qingyuan lifted his head slightly, noticing her attention was still on her hand—giving him no reaction at all.
Yu Jingxin suddenly covered her face with both hands, muffling a soft, involuntary whimper as he sucked lightly, sending electric currents of pleasure radiating through her body.
He was doing this on purpose. She tried to kick him.
Ji Qingyuan pinned her legs to the edge of the bed, rendering her immobile.
He buried his face between her thighs again.
Yu Jingxin lay sprawled across the bed, too far from the headboard to reach the pillows easily. After some effort, she managed to grab his pillow.
She pressed it over her face, hiding her expression—not wanting him to see how much she loved this method of reconciliation.
Every time they fought and gave each other the silent treatment, he’d make up with her like this.
Their marriage, riddled with cracks, was somehow reinforced again and again. But with such a shaky foundation, the higher they built, the more she feared it would one day collapse under its own weight.
Lost in thought, she was suddenly catapulted over the edge—a sensation no amount of self-control could withstand.
She flung the pillow aside, reaching blindly for Ji Qingyuan, desperate to hold him.
Ji Qingyuan stood and pulled her into his arms.
Yu Jingxin had always appreciated this about him: the moment she embraced him, he’d give her everything she wanted. He never dragged things out or withheld pleasure to force an apology.
This time, Ji Qingyuan didn’t use protection. The nightstand was too far, and she was clinging to him too tightly to let him go.
Or at least, that was the excuse he told himself.
Suddenly, he wanted a child with her. With a baby in the picture, even if she got angry or pined for someone else, she probably wouldn’t divorce him.
Even if she never loved him, he’d have the child. He could focus on being a father and leave her to her own devices.
Yu Jingxin was also aware he hadn’t reached for a condom.
She didn’t remind him.
If he wasn’t going to use one, so be it.
Ever since he’d said he wouldn’t divorce her, she’d wanted a child—boy or girl, they’d undoubtedly be beautiful. If he didn’t want to talk to her, fine. She’d talk to their baby instead. He could keep pining after whoever he wanted.
Since both were harboring their own thoughts, this reconciliation was more intense than usual. They held each other tightly, neither willing to let go.