Chapter 3 In-Law Pressure.

Before long, a mouthwatering aroma drifted through the crack of the bedroom door. Song Ci entered carrying a tray with a fine porcelain bowl of steaming white fish porridge, garnished with a sprinkle of delicate green scallions. It looked so good my protesting stomach surrendered on the spot.

He sat down on the armchair, crossing his long legs with absolute ease. He looked less like a husband tending to his sick wife and more like an executive conducting a high-level job interview.

“Come here.” He scooped a spoonful and blew on it softly, his voice carrying an undeniable air of authority.

I forced myself to sit up and lean against the headboard, then… let my hands flop limply onto the duvet. Time to play it dramatic. “My arms are so sore, I can’t even lift them.”

Song Ci looked at me, a flash of complete saw-through amusement in his eyes. He didn’t call my bluff. Instead, with a meaningful little smile, he leaned forward and brought the spoon right to my lips. “Open up.”

I dutifully indulged. The porridge tasted infuriatingly good, warm, savory, and instantly soothing to both my stomach and my battered soul. He patiently fed me spoon by spoon until the bowl was completely clean, then used a napkin to gently dab the corner of my mouth.

The pad of his thumb brushed against my lower lip purely by accident, instantly jacking the room’s temperature up a few degrees.

“Will you dare do it again?” he asked out of nowhere, his voice dropping into a dark, threatening tone.

I flinched, shaking my head like a toy drum. “No! Absolutely not!” Truth be told, last night’s ordeal was far too much for my poor, aching waist to handle a second time.

Song Ci looked satisfied. He placed my phone on the nightstand. “I’ve already spoken with Jiang Jiang’s father. He’ll be reining her in, so you two won’t be seeing each other for the next two weeks. As for that kid named A-Zhai, I deleted his contact.”

My heart did a sharp drop.

“Also, the owner of Muse Bar happens to be an old client of mine.” He locked his gaze with mine. “If you so much as set half a foot in there again, my phone will ping immediately.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Is this man my husband or an AI-powered surveillance system running on pure spite?! “Song Ci, you are invading my privacy!”

I snatched my phone. Sure enough, all trace of the eye candy was wiped clean, replaced instead by a frantic stream of tearful voice messages from Jiang Jiang.

“I’m doing this for your safety.” He stood up, adjusting his cuffs as he looked down at me from above. “Niannian, there are too many temptations out there. But you need to remember who you belong to.”

He leaned over, planting both hands on either side of me, trapping me completely between his broad chest and the headboard. The rich scent of cedarwood enveloped me, leaving zero escape routes.

“As long as you’re good, I’ll give you whatever you want.” His voice sank lower as a gentle kiss dropped onto my forehead. Soft as it was, the darkness lurking in his eyes was utterly terrifying. “If you’re not… well, you already know the consequences.”

I swallowed hard and gave a meek nod. “I know… hubby.”

A wise girl knows when to surrender.

Song Ci straightened up, returning to his usual composed, buttoned-up professor persona in a fraction of a second. “Rest up. We’re having dinner at my parents’ house tonight. They’ve been asking about you.”

I collapsed onto the bed with a heavy sigh. I’d lost this round completely, literally down to my dignity. I dashed off a quick “stay safe” text to Jiang Jiang and began prepping for my next battle: facing my in-laws.

—

To cover up the vibrant “evidence” painted across my neck, I picked out a white high-neck sweater paired with a long, flowy skirt. Soft, sweet, and proper, so much so that even I barely recognized myself.

In the car, Song Ci reached over and held my hand, his palm warm and dry. “Don’t be nervous. I’m right here with you.”

“I’m scared I’ll say the wrong thing… Your parents are even scarier than you are,” I mumbled.

“They adore you.” He squeezed my hand reassuringly. “My mother even said your lively personality balances out a dull old stick like me.”

A dull old stick? I threw him a silent glare. Only one thought ran through my mind: If you’re a dull old stick, who was that maniac pulling overtime on me last night until I couldn’t even crawl out of bed?!

Never let Song Ci’s dignified exterior fool you. In bed, the man wasn’t “stuffy” in the slightest. The sweet nothings he whispered rolled off his tongue smoother than a law school lecture, and his endless variations were enough to leave a girl breathless and utterly defenseless.

When the car pulled up to the estate, Song Ci stepped out and walked around to open my door with pristine, gentlemanly grace. The moment we stepped into the living room, I saw Mrs. Song sitting comfortably on the sofa, wearing her reading glasses and casually turning the page of a book.

“Niannian is here? Come, sit over here with me!” She looked up, her warm, gentle smile blooming instantly.

I immediately switched on “dutiful daughter-in-law” mode, my voice sweet as honey: “Hello, Mom.”

“Oh, such a good girl.” She took my hand, scanning me from head to toe before knitting her brows together. “Why do you look like you’ve lost weight? Is Song Ci picking on you? Is he not letting you eat properly?”

Instinctively, I darted a glance at Song Ci. He definitely picked on me… but if I blurted out that kind of picking on, I wouldn’t be able to look anyone in the eye ever again.

“Oh, not at all, Mom,” I offered a totally fake, polite smile. “He… takes very good care of me.”

Song Ci stood beside us, his expression unreadable as he casually accepted the compliment like it was absolute gospel. “Niannian hasn’t had the best appetite lately, so I’m adjusting her diet plan.”

Adjusting my diet plan? Does he mean banning boba tea and forcing me to eat green bell peppers until I question my existence?!

“Well, that’s good then.” Mrs. Song nodded in satisfaction, then switched the topic with lightning speed. “Now that your health is getting back on track, shouldn’t you two start planning for that?”

My heart skipped a beat. That?! What’s that?!

She beamed at me, her eyes lingering meaningfully on my stomach. “You two have been married for three months now. Your father and I aren’t getting any younger, we’d really love to hold a grandchild.”

There it was the ultimate nightmare for every married woman: being pressured to have a baby.

The smile froze on my face like wax as I shot a desperate, silent plea for help straight at Song Ci. Yet there he was… casually taking a sip of his tea. Betrayal! Absolute, shameless betrayal!

“Niannian is still young, and she’s currently working on her master’s degree.” Song Ci set his teacup down, his tone smooth and unbothered. “There’s no rush.”

“What do you mean no rush? She’s twenty-four, she’s not a kid!” Mrs. Song shot back immediately.

“I want her to enjoy herself for a few more years.” His voice remained gentle, yet firm. “Besides, I’m not keen on having a third wheel intrude on our time together.”

I blinked, totally stunned. Was this stuffy law professor… drinking sugar water today? How was he talking this smoothly?

Mrs. Song was completely speechless for a second, then pointed at him with a light chuckle. “Look at you so possessive! Fine, fine, I won’t meddle in your business anymore!”

Crisis averted. I let out a massive sigh of relief and secretly reached under the table to hook my pinky around Song Ci’s. He turned his head to look at me, the corners of his lips curving up slightly as he leaned in close to whisper in my ear:

“If you want that lie to come true… you’re going to have to work hard tonight.”

Before the gratitude even had three seconds to settle in my heart, it was brutally crushed right in the womb.