Chapter 6: The Marriage

Once he finished kissing me, his mood visibly softened. Those once-cold eyes were now dusted with a light, deadly shade of crimson. Twirling a strand of my hair around his finger, he casually declared:

“Fall in love with me again. Otherwise, even if you end up marrying someone else and having his kids, I’ll never let you go. Worst case scenario… you can just be my shameless mistress.”

I nearly fainted right then and there. The problem was, with the sheer power of the Song family behind him, he meant every word and was fully capable of pulling it off. I was entirely rendered speechless by his unhinged madness.

That afternoon, after getting his wound patched up at the hospital, Song Yubai swung by the faculty office. Nobody knew what he said to the teachers, but the next day, Chu Yu took a sudden sick leave, and my assigned dance partner naturally became Song Yubai.

In the original plot, this was supposed to be the pivotal, romantic turning point for the main leads. But now, I was the one dancing with him, the one wrapped in his embrace, and the one dragged into this chaotic mess of romantic drama.

I tried transferring schools? Rejected. Demanded a class transfer? All thirteen classes miraculously reported “no available seats.”

Who was pulling the strings behind the scenes? I didn’t even need to guess.

For the first time in my life, I felt the terrifying weight of elite, aristocratic power firsthand. In just half a month, the image of the “pure snow lotus” I had assigned to Song Yubai shattered into a million pieces. He had never been a pristine, noble flower; he was the kind of guy who looked pure on the outside, but was pitch-black to the core.

—

On the final day of college entrance exams, I walked out of the school gates only to find him standing there waiting. He naturally took my hand, asking, “How’d it go?”

I lowered my eyes. “Not great. I’ll probably only get into a second-tier university.”

He offered a soft, offhanded, “Yeah.” Then added, “Doesn’t matter, as long as you enjoy it. Come on, let’s celebrate at my place.”

Inside the villa, Song Yubai threw on an apron and stood in the kitchen, his movements as fluid and effortless as a professional chef. Three hours later, a lavish feast materialized on the table, leaving me completely stunned.

“Since when do you know how to cook?”

“I took secret lessons.” He smiled subtly. “Didn’t you once say you wanted a boyfriend who knew his way around a kitchen?”

Turns out, every single absurd demand I had ever made in the past to force him to give up on me, he had quietly remembered and executed. I had to admit, my heart fluttered a little, but I also felt a surge of fear. That was Song Yubai’s greatest weapon: he was far too good at reading people. Making someone fall for him was as easy as flipping a switch.

That night, the moment I reached out to hit the light switch, I was wrapped tight in a firm embrace from behind.

“Exams are over.”

Just three words, but they sent my heart skipping a beat. Before, he had always stopped right on the line because I insisted on waiting until after the exams. Now, there were no excuses left to run away.

In the dark, he lightly bit my neck, his voice raspy and deep: “Keep your word, Qingran.”

It rained heavily that night, heavy drops pouring down onto the cluster of red begonias outside on the balcony. A flower meant for a greenhouse could never withstand such a violent storm, left with no choice but to let its petals shatter and fall into ruin.

—

The next morning, I unlocked a brand-new level of Song Yubai’s “unhinged” nature. Turns out, when it came to that department, he was capable of upgrading into a vastly more terrifying version of himself.

I used to think that once he went abroad for college, I’d finally get a few years of peace. Instead, on my first day of freshman orientation at a second-tier university, there stood Song Yubai right beside me.

“You’re not studying abroad?!”

“I can study anywhere,” he replied calmly. “My family company doesn’t need a degree anyway. Wherever you go, I go.”

As it turned out, high school was just a fun little side quest for him, while college was purely to keep tabs on me. During our junior year, the second we hit the legal marriage age, Song Yubai half-coaxed, half-forced me to sign the marriage papers. I had assumed his high-society family would fiercely oppose it, but the reality was that at the Song family’s level, they didn’t need a political marriage to secure their status anymore. Their son could marry whoever he wanted, as long as he didn’t burn the house down.

And so, while our peers were still stressing over their senior graduation projects, Song Yubai and I had already been married for a full year. Thinking back on everything from the moment I woke up in this world until now, it still felt a bit surreal. The villainess and the hypocritical male lead… that original script had been torn to shreds and rewritten by him a long time ago.

—

Epilogue: A Happily Ever After

I’m not even exaggerating, not a single day went by where I didn’t burn with the desire to get a divorce. Men were absolute masters of put-on behavior before marriage, and Song Yubai was no exception. Before we officially registered, even when he acted a bit unhinged, it was kept to a level that just made a girl blush. But once he got his hands on that marriage certificate, his level of obsession leaped straight into a whole new tier, inventing endless new games behind closed doors.

“Divorce! I want a divorce!” I’d scream at least a dozen times a day.

And him? It was like water off a duck’s back. He’d just smirk with pure, unadulterated arrogance: “You’re the one who seduced me first. So even if you die in this bed, you brought it on yourself. Stop crying, save your breath for moaning.”

—

Four years after graduation, our high school class hosted a reunion. Song Yubai was no longer just the young heir of the Song family; he was now the third-richest man in the world, a global tech tycoon.

The second we walked through the door, the crowd swarmed us. Flattering, kissing up, everyone jostling for a chance to talk to him. Yubai offered a few polite responses before walking straight over to me, naturally lacing his fingers through mine.

The women surrounding us watched, sighing with envy: “Qingran is so lucky! Her husband is handsome, brilliant, and completely dotes on her. I’m dying of jealousy!”

I could only force a tight smile inside. Sure, he looked like the ultimate national husband on paper, but nobody knew what a absolute terror this “national husband” became behind closed doors at home.

Halfway through the party, Chu Nuannuan made her entrance. She had transformed from a pure, innocent beauty into a smoldering red rose, flanked by two devoted male leads: Fu Xingye and Lu Cinjuan. Watching the two men engage in a verbal war of words just to win the heroine’s favor, I glanced back at my husband.

On one side, the female lead was still stuck in a messy love triangle; on the other, the male lead had long settled down into domestic bliss with the villainess. I couldn’t help but wonder: Is there any saving this plot at all?

—

On the drive home, I finally asked the question that had been weighing on my mind for years: “Back in high school… did you really never have feelings for Chu Nuannuan?”

Song Yubai loosened his tie, his voice dropping an octave: “The first time I saw her, I had this really strange intuition. Like a voice telling me we were destined to end up together. Call it a mild, initial impression…” He looked at me, his gaze laced with deep, unspoken meaning. “But before I even had the chance to like her… my soul had already been hooked by you.”

My face flushed hot as I threw a pillow straight at him. “Talk properly! Why are you taking your clothes off?! Go take a shower!”

Later that night, I was completely absorbed in playing a mobile game when Yubai walked out of the bathroom. Just one glance and I was instantly spellbound: a loose white silk robe tied haphazardly at his waist, exposing a sculpted chest adorned with a vivid red camellia tattoo, the permanent mark he claimed was made exclusively for me.

He slipped the phone right out of my hand, leaning down until his lips brushed my ear, his breath scorching hot:

“Let’s make a baby.”

Boom. My brain went completely up in flames.

Looking at that breathtaking face and his dangerously unhinged devotion, I threw every last bit of my shame out the window, screaming in my head:

I’ll do it! I’ll birth an entire soccer team!

(THE END)