The Alpha Boss's Endless Kisses

When Qin Zhiyou woke up in the large bed, it was raining outside, and the wind was howling through the velvet curtains, making them flutter noisily. A soft murmur beside him suggested the woman next to him had been disturbed by the storm. Qin Zhiyou turned to look at Lu Weixi, who was sleeping restlessly. Her red lips, bitten gently by her teeth, left faint marks, and her eyebrows, curved like distant mountains, were slightly furrowed, resembling a perfume lily swaying in the storm. Qin Zhiyou watched her for a long time, unable to resist reaching out to smooth the crease between her brows. But just as his long fingers hovered above her cheek, Lu Weixi’s eyelashes fluttered, as if about to wake. He retracted his hand swiftly, instead picking up his pajamas and dressing methodically with his back to her. Rising to his full height, he paced slowly to the door and called out, “Aunt Hao.” The housekeeper, Aunt Hao, approached. He said calmly, “A cup of black coffee, brought to the study.” Aunt Hao nodded and turned to leave, but Qin Zhiyou furrowed his brow and called her back. “Wait a moment,” he added in a calm tone devoid of emotion. “We forgot to take precautions earlier. When Madam wakes, remind her.” Lu Weixi lay in bed until his footsteps faded. The phone on her nightstand kept vibrating. She answered, and Dr. Zhao’s urgent voice came through: “Weixi, your mother is having another severe drug resistance reaction. If we don’t switch medications, we need to schedule surgery or chemotherapy soon. But I’m worried her body can’t withstand surgery or the side effects of chemo. The new imported drug ZERO-1 is extremely expensive—you need to decide quickly.” Lu Weixi paused thoughtfully for a moment and nodded. “I understand.” As soon as her limp limbs regained some strength, she dressed quickly, threw on a robe, and shuffled out in slippers. Aunt Hao, holding a coffee cup, stared in surprise. “Madam,” she greeted. Lu Weixi didn’t respond, taking the cup and heading straight for the study. Inside, Qin Zhiyou sat at his desk, typing on his keyboard. He didn’t look up when she knocked and entered. She placed the coffee beside him. He picked it up and took a sip as soon as it touched the desk. When she tried to speak, his gaze was fixed on a file bag on the desk, flipping through papers with his thin lips pursed, not even bothering to greet her. She waited silently until he finished the coffee. “Zhiyou,” she finally said. Without glancing at her, he flipped through the documents with his long, elegant fingers, occasionally comparing them to his computer screen. “What is it?” “ Including today, you’ve been home four days this week. That’s ten days this month,” she said, struggling to organize her words at first, then speaking faster. “We agreed when we got married five years ago that you'd come home five days a month and pay me 50,000 yuan. If you exceed that, you owe extra.”