Unlawful Affection

Marks That Couldn’t Be Erased

Su Nian'en rambled incoherently, then suddenly clutched Qin Su’s hand as if it were her last lifeline.

“Susu, wait—wait! Maybe I was hallucinating!” Her voice trembled, desperation spilling out. “Jiang Qing Wan’s been bragging about him nonstop lately, right? So maybe… maybe my brain just played tricks on me. I woke up, saw Han Xi Cheng, and my mind filled in the rest. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been real!”

She was gambling.

Gambling on the hope that reality hadn’t completely destroyed her.

Qin Su rolled her eyes so hard they nearly vanished into her skull. “A hallucination? Please. Even if you’ve never eaten pork, you’ve seen pigs run. You’d know if something actually happened.”

Su Nian'en froze.

Then her eyes lit up, as if someone had thrown her a rope while she was drowning.

“You’re right!” she blurted out. “You’re absolutely right! Nothing happened! Susu, I swear—when I woke up, I felt completely normal! The novels always say it feels like getting run over by a truck, but I felt fine! Totally fine!”

She sucked in several shaky breaths, hope blooming wildly across her face.

Qin Su stared at her like she was looking at an i***t. “If you actually got run over by a truck, you wouldn’t be standing here breathing, would you?”

Before Su Nian'en could respond, Qin Su moved.

Fast.

Her hand shot out and yanked Su Nian'en’s collar down.

Su Nian'en gasped.

Her pale, delicate shoulder was exposed—and with it, the truth.

Red. Purple. Faint blue.

Marks scattered from her shoulder down toward her collarbone, vivid and unmistakable.

For a moment, Qin Su said nothing.

Then she let out a low whistle. “Damn…”

Her gaze darkened. “They say the quiet ones are the most vicious in bed. Looks like they weren’t lying. Was he starving or something?”

Su Nian'en’s legs went weak.

Qin Su slapped her shoulder without mercy. “Listen to me. You can’t let Han Xi Cheng get away with this. He has to take responsibility.”

That slap sent a sharp jolt through Su Nian'en’s head. The world tilted, strength draining from her limbs.

“Take responsibility?” Su Nian'en laughed softly, bitter and broken. “You mean let the Jiang family tear me apart piece by piece?”

As if summoned by her words—

Her phone rang.

One glance at the caller ID, and her blood ran cold.

The Jiang family landline.

She didn’t want to answer.

But she didn’t dare ignore it.

Compared to Han Xi Cheng, the Jiang family was far more ruthless.

Her fingers trembled as she picked up.

“Su Nian'en!” Song Wan Zhi’s shrill voice screeched through the phone. “Sneaking back into the country without a word? Have you grown wings now? Let me remind you—everything you eat, wear, and use comes from the Jiang family. Get back here. Immediately.”

The line went dead.

…

Forty minutes later, Su Nian'en stood alone before the Jiang family villa, suitcase dragging behind her.

The luxurious European-style mansion loomed over her like a monster with its mouth open.

Disgust. Fear.

She swallowed both.

No one wanted to live in a place where every word cut like a knife. But she had no choice.

She had to endure.

For now.

As she pressed the doorbell, she forced a smile onto her face.

Then the sky opened up.

Rain poured down mercilessly, soaking her in seconds.

Figures.

It took nearly five minutes before the gate opened.

The maid glanced at her, eyes full of cold disdain, then turned away with an umbrella—leaving Su Nian'en drenched outside.

She didn’t react.

From the gate to the house wasn’t far, but with no umbrella, she could only grit her teeth and run through the rain.

The moment she stepped inside—

“Don’t move!”

Song Wan Zhi’s voice sliced through the air.

“Look at you! Like a dead rat dragged out of a sewer! Stand right there—don’t you dare take another step!”

Su Nian'en lowered her gaze.

Not because she was weak.

But because she was waiting.

Waiting for the day she would no longer need to bow her head.