Chapter 3: What If I Slept with Him?
1410 Words
The more Chi Huan thought about how this man, who normally followed her every whim, had coldly and relentlessly pushed her into the water despite her desperate pleas, the angrier she became.
She remembered everything clearly.
She had begged him for a long time, but he remained unyielding, his face cold and emotionless, showing no trace of pity. She had even kissed him, and at one point, had practically begged him to make love to her.
Chi Huan wasn’t sure what made her angrier—was it the fact that she had let the drug cloud her judgment, leading her to do such embarrassing things? Or was it the fact that despite her very forward advances, he had shown absolutely no reaction?
Was she not beautiful enough? Was her body not desirable?
Men lined up to pursue her, so how could she have no feminine allure in front of him?
Mo Xigu had left her alone after she’d taken the drug to chase after a married woman. Yet, this man had stayed with her all night without the slightest temptation.
A feeling of disappointment and frustration washed over her. Clenching her fists, she coldly said, "Not a word about what happened tonight, do you hear me?"
The man replied calmly, "I understand, Miss. You don’t need to worry."
After a brief silence, Mo Shiqian tossed the towel aside and picked up a hairdryer to dry her hair.
The soft hum of the dryer filled the room, and a sudden, ridiculous thought popped into Chi Huan's mind.
She had found this man particularly handsome tonight. Was it because he really was that good-looking, or had the drug made her delirious?
She turned to take a closer look, but before she could make out anything, her vision went black.
“Miss.”
Chi Huan passed out.
Before she completely lost consciousness, she clearly felt his strong arms catching her.
He always seemed to be able to lift her effortlessly, just like carrying a small kitten.
…
Chi Huan had developed a fever, a high one of 39.2°C.
When she woke up, it was already late afternoon.
Before she fully opened her eyes, she saw a tall figure standing by her bed, silhouetted against the fading light of the setting sun.
Without thinking, she assumed it was her bodyguard. “Mo Shiqian, I’m thirsty.”
Mo Xigu’s face tensed as he recalled the cold look in Mo Shiqian’s eyes when he had arrived at the hospital earlier. Even though the bodyguard had greeted him politely, there had been a chill in his gaze that was hard to ignore.
Still, Mo Xigu sighed and turned to pour her a glass of water.
As he helped her sit up, Chi Huan realized the man in front of her wasn’t Mo Shiqian but the one who had left her alone at the hotel last night.
She didn’t take the water or say anything. She just stared at him.
Mo Xigu held the glass out, but when she didn’t take it, he kept holding it in place. His voice hoarse, he finally spoke, “Chi Huan, I’m sorry about last night.”
“If I had slept with another man last night, what would you have done?”
His fingers tightened around the glass, his brow furrowing before he finally replied, “I knew your bodyguard would be with you. He wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
Chi Huan tilted her head, her expression a mix of innocence and allure, a combination that had often earned her praise for being enchanting yet not vulgar.
She smiled suddenly and asked, “But what if I had slept with him?”
Mo Xigu’s handsome face remained calm. “He doesn’t seem like the type to make such a foolish mistake.”
Chi Huan lowered her head, staring at the stark white hospital sheets.
The man’s voice sounded again from above her, “Chi Huan, drink some water first.”
After another moment of silence, she finally reached out and took the glass, sipping a few mouthfuls.
After setting the cup down, she looked up at the face she had loved and chased for so many years. With a faint smile, she asked, “She’s married badly. What do you plan to do? Cancel our engagement to take responsibility for her happiness?”
Mo Xigu slid one hand into the pocket of his tailored trousers, his brows still slightly furrowed.
Chi Huan leaned back, her voice languid and teasing, “Four years ago, she was just a Cinderella your family disapproved of. Now, she’s a divorced Cinderella. If you want to be with her now... I think your mother might just throw herself off a building.”
After a long pause, Mo Xigu finally spoke in his usual calm tone, “I won’t cancel the engagement. I will marry you. Her situation... I’ll take care of it before the wedding.”
His eyes were distant, almost devoid of any emotion.
Chi Huan felt a sharp pain in her chest.
But she still smiled, her eyes crinkling as she said, “Alright, I believe you.”
Then she threw back the covers and started getting out of bed. “I’m hungry. How about you treat me to a meal as an apology for last night?”
Mo Xigu reached out and pressed her back down, his voice firm. “You still have a fever. Tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll have it brought to you.”
She pouted, her rosy lips forming a playful complaint. “I’m fine now. I hate lying in bed—it’s so boring.”
“Are you really better?”
She nodded emphatically.
“Alright then, I’ll take you to dinner.”
Chi Huan changed her clothes and then called Mo Shiqian. Her voice was indifferent, “I’m going out for dinner with Xigu. Please take care of the discharge paperwork. You don’t need to pick me up; Xigu will drive me home.”
There was a brief pause on the other end before Mo Shiqian’s calm voice replied, “Understood.”
It was a chilly autumn evening. Chi Huan wore a beige V-neck sweater underneath a red lightweight coat. Her thick, wavy hair cascaded down her back, and she carried a limited-edition designer handbag in her hand.
Her delicate features, fair skin, and bright, spirited demeanor made her look stunning.
As she was about to step out of the hospital room, the door opened to reveal another woman standing there.
Chi Huan froze for a moment, and the smile on her face quickly faded.
Su Ya Bing.
She wore a blue-and-white striped hospital gown, her long black hair unable to hide the bruises on her face. She stood there, her fingers nervously twisting together, clearly anxious.
When she saw Mo Xigu, Su Ya Bing visibly hesitated.
Chi Huan’s voice was cold and detached, “Miss Su.”
Su Ya Bing snapped out of her daze and looked apologetically at Chi Huan. “I’m sorry, Miss Chi... I heard from Xigu that you were hospitalized with a fever, and since I was nearby, I thought I’d come check on you.”
Suddenly realizing her intrusion, she quickly took two steps back. “Oh, are you going out? I won’t disturb you then.”
With that, she turned to leave, as if fleeing the scene.
Chi Huan called out to her again, “Miss Su.”
Su Ya Bing stopped and turned back, her smile forced as she asked softly, “Yes, Miss Chi?”
If Chi Huan was radiant and captivating, then Su Ya Bing was the rare, delicate kind of woman—fragile and sorrowful, something that was increasingly scarce in this modern age.
Mo Xigu reached out and grabbed Chi Huan’s arm, his brow furrowing slightly as he said, “You said you were hungry. Let’s go.”
His grip on her wrist was tight, enough to cause her pain.
Chi Huan glanced down at his well-defined fingers wrapped around her wrist, her heart sinking.
Did he really think she was planning to make things difficult for Su Ya Bing?
Turning her head, she tilted her gaze at Su Ya Bing and said, “I heard from Xigu that your husband is violent and often hits you. If I remember correctly, domestic violence is something you can report to the police for in the U.S., isn’t it?”
- Writer
