Chapter 20: Try It Yourself

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The room was pitch dark. Moonlight streamed through the window, spilling silvery frost across the floor.
On the large double bed, the man reclined half-upright, his expression a taut blend of endurance and…
…pleasure.
Every muscle in his body was coiled and tense. Powerful arms showcased prominent veins.
His deep, desire-filled eyes remained locked on the woman before him.
His large, well-defined hand enveloped her smaller, softer one.
Three buttons of her black shirt were undone, revealing delicate collarbones.
Her dark hair was hastily pinned up with a pen, shorter strands escaping to brush against her long, pale neck.
She sat sideways beside him, legs bent, one hand braced on the mattress. She leaned slightly towards him but maintained a careful fist’s width of distance.
She strained not to touch him at all.
Her luminous legs, exposed beneath the hem of the black shirt, created a stark contrast against the dark bedsheets.
Her face was flushed crimson. She stared resolutely elsewhere, not daring even a glance in his direction.
Shang Chi watched the woman, draped in his shirt, her face a picture of shyness. The black of his eyes deepened, growing impossibly darker.
Jiang Zhi shifted slightly straighter, wiping sweat from her brow. “President Shang… how much longer?” she asked, her voice strained.

Shang Chi’s voice was a lazy rasp. “Tired?”
Jiang Zhi pressed her lips together, opting for honesty. “A little.”
His thumb stroked the back of her pale hand. “Forgotten what I just taught you?”
As the words left his lips, he released her hand. His tone was commanding. “Try it yourself.”
Jiang Zhi bit her lip. She had no choice but to recall his earlier instructions and fumble her way through.

…

Half an hour later.
Jiang Zhi washed her hands, then walked out of the bathroom, forcing an air of composure.
Seeing her, the man swung his legs off the bed, barefoot, and headed towards the bathroom.
As he passed her, his gaze flickered to her trembling hands. He said coolly, “You worked hard.”
With that, he walked into the bathroom without a backward glance.
It was his signature brand of detached efficiency.
His attitude eased some of the pressure coiling within Jiang Zhi.
Their relationship was purely transactional. He’d given her the suppressant pill; she’d helped him with his… physical need.
Just like he’d saved her uncle’s company, and she played the loving wife for his grandfather.
The intimacy of moments ago wouldn’t change that fundamental equation.
Exhausted, Jiang Zhi returned to bed. She was asleep before he finished his shower.

In her dreams, she seemed to hear that same male voice from her hospital vision.
He gently kneaded her sore, aching palm, his touch tender and patient as he massaged each finger.
Comfort radiated from her fingertips, spreading warmth through her entire body.
She didn’t know how long he massaged. When the soreness finally began to ease,
He lifted her hand. The soft warmth of his lips pressed against her knuckles.
His voice was a deep, tender murmur. “You’re finally sleeping beside me. Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment?”
She could feel his gaze lingering on her face, tracing its contours with quiet intensity.
After a long silence, he finally lay down beside her.
A strong arm encircled her waist, pulling her tightly against him.
His chest was warm, a solid presence against her back, lending her an inexplicable sense of security and peace.

The next morning, Jiang Zhi opened her bleary fox-like eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling.
She drifted for a moment before reality snapped back—where she was, what had happened last night. She sat bolt upright.
“Awake?” The cool, detached voice came from the direction of the walk-in closet.
Jiang Zhi turned her head. The man was already impeccably dressed, adjusting his tie before the mirror.
He wore his usual black suit and shirt, his hair styled in its signature slicked-back manner. Gold-rimmed glasses perched on his high-bridged nose—the very image of a corporate elite.
The black shirt was buttoned meticulously to the top, exuding an aura of extreme, almost ascetic restraint.
He was utterly unrecognizable as the man consumed by raw desire the night before.
That version of him had been like an untouchable deity plummeting from grace, drowning in the abyss of lust, radiating a potent, primal wildness.
Recalling the events of the night, a flush crept back onto Jiang Zhi’s cheeks.
She answered him softly, “Yes.”
He only lifted his gaze briefly to glance at her before returning his attention to his tie. His powerful hands worked the knot as he spoke in a low, firm voice. “I sent you some documents. Expect them memorized quickly.”
“And,” he continued, “Grandfather wants us to stay at the old residence for another two days. Go back to No. 7 Villa yourself and pack some clothes.”
Jiang Zhi’s fingers tightened unconsciously on the black shirt she still wore. “Alright.”
Staying here meant maintaining the charade of marital bliss for the old man’s sake.
Shang Chi finished his tie, his expression impassive. He strode out of the closet on long legs.
He walked to the bedside, bent down, and picked up his wristwatch from the nightstand. He fastened it around his wrist with casual precision.
The watch’s exquisite craftsmanship stood in stark contrast to the simple, ordinary silver ring adorning his index finger. Jiang Zhi’s eyes were drawn to the ring.
At first glance, it struck her as strangely familiar.
Before she could look closer, his deep, cool voice sounded above her. “Grandfather is waiting for you for breakfast.”

Startled by his sudden voice after her focused observation, Jiang Zhi flinched slightly.
Regaining her composure, she threw back the covers and got out of bed. “I’ll go wash up now.”
After freshening up, she emerged from the bathroom to find the bedroom empty. He had likely left for the office.
She changed out of his shirt and back into yesterday’s clothes, then headed downstairs to join Old Master Shang for breakfast.
Amidst the morning bustle, the matter of the silver ring slipped completely from her mind.
The moment Jiang Zhi appeared downstairs, Old Master Shang greeted her warmly, asking how she’d slept and other such questions.
Noticing the faint, lingering blush on her cheeks, the old man inwardly smiled. The incense worked its magic.
I’ll be holding a little great-granddaughter soon enough.
After breakfast, Gen Shu brought over some pills and a glass of water for Old Master Shang.
The old man took them, expertly tossing the pills into his mouth and swallowing them down with water.
Seeing this, Jiang Zhi recalled Shang Chi’s stern admonition last night about the old man not staying up late.
She hesitated. “Grandfather… what are those?”
Old Master Shang paused. An idea sparked. He sighed dramatically, adopting a mournful tone. “The body ages, child. Functions slow down… the heart and lungs naturally weaken.”
“That’s why,” he leaned forward conspiratorially, “while my mind is still clear, you and Shang Chi must hurry up and give me a baby to hold!”
Jiang Zhi froze. So that’s why. Suddenly, Shang Chi’s urgency made sense. The rushed marriage certificate, the pressure for a child…
Grandfather’s health is failing. Shang Chi married me out of obligation, desperate to give the old man a great-grandchild before it’s too late.
Jiang Zhi forced a smile onto her lips. “Of course, Grandfather. We will.”
Seeing Jiang Zhi readily agree, Old Master Shang knew his ruse had worked.
The pills? Merely calcium and vitamin supplements. His health was excellent; every checkup earned praise from his doctor.
Now, all he had to do was sit back and wait for that sweet, soft little bundle of joy!