Chapter 15: Mrs. Fu, You Owe Me Proper Compensation

Fu Yancheng applied a little more force, just about to pull down—

“Mm…”

Suddenly, beneath him, Qiao Xi let out a muffled gasp. Her previously hazy, intoxicated eyes flew wide open.

“What’s wrong?” Fu Yancheng froze mid-action.

“I…”

Qiao Xi’s cheeks, flushed red from drink, turned instantly pale. Her gaze darted about in panic, and she stammered with embarrassment, “I think my period just started.”

She buried her face in the pillow, her voice muffled.

At her words, the burning desire in Fu Yancheng’s deep eyes was instantly extinguished, leaving not a trace behind.

He instinctively glanced down.

Sure enough, on the pale bed sheet, a small, glaringly red stain had already bloomed.

A few seconds later, he came back to himself with a wry, almost helpless smile.

He drew a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the tumult of emotions within him, and quickly rolled off her.

Striding into the bathroom, he turned on the hot water and wrung out a warm, damp towel as fast as he could.

Returning to the bedside, Fu Yancheng looked at Qiao Xi, who still had her face buried stubbornly in the pillow, and coaxed her gently, “Come on, sit up.”

“No…”

Qiao Xi’s refusal was thick with both nasal congestion and mortification.

“Be good.” Fu Yancheng’s tone softened further. “Let’s clean up, or you’ll catch a chill.”

Her cheeks burned crimson, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“Lie still,” he murmured, and with deft, gentle movements, he cleaned her up, helped her adjust her posture, and pulled the covers over her.

Then Fu Yancheng turned and strode toward the suite’s intercom, pressing the call button.

“Zhou Ze.”

“Bring up a set of women’s… sanitary supplies. Right now.”

He paused, lowering his voice even further. “And clean bed sheets and duvet cover. Hurry.”

“…Yes, Mr. Fu.”

There was a noticeable pause on the other end, then Zhou Ze answered swiftly.

Fu Yancheng looked at Qiao Xi, still curled up under the covers with only her eyes—brimming with embarrassment—visible, and let out a helpless sigh.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked softly.

Qiao Xi shook her head, then nodded.

Zhou Ze quickly delivered the requested items, moving briskly, his eyes kept respectfully lowered the entire time.

Fu Yancheng took the package of sanitary supplies, brought it to the bedside, and handed it to Qiao Xi with utmost consideration. “Go take care of yourself.”

Her face flaming, Qiao Xi snatched it up and darted for the bathroom like a startled rabbit.

Fu Yancheng went to the bed and, without so much as a frown, changed the linens himself.

Just then, his phone began to vibrate relentlessly.

Seeing the caller ID, Fu Yancheng answered, his tone unmistakably irritable. “If you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”

On the other end came the breezy, amused voice of his childhood friend and business partner, Mu Censhan.

“Hey, President Fu, why the temper? Did I interrupt something important?”

“Cut the crap,” Fu Yancheng snapped, frowning.

“Alright, alright.” Mu Censhan sobered. “That female PhD you asked me to find—there’s news!”

Fu Yancheng’s gaze sharpened instantly. “You found her? Are you sure it’s Dr. Q?”

“Absolutely.” Mu Censhan’s tone was certain. “It took quite some effort. She’s at a small research institute in Europe now. Top-notch skills, holds a slew of patents in the very field you admire.”

A hint of predatory satisfaction curled Fu Yancheng’s lips. “Excellent.”

“Whatever it takes—offer her a high salary and recruit her!”

He paused. “And make it clear: after she joins, she must personally mentor Qiao Xi.”

Mu Censhan raised an eyebrow on the other end. “Oh? You value your little engineer that much?”

Fu Yancheng didn’t answer, only said gravely, “She can name her terms, but she must be here as soon as possible. I’ll speak to her myself.”

With that, he hung up.

Qiao Xi emerged from the bathroom, still flushed, her eyes skittish, unable to meet his gaze.

“Come here, lie down,” Fu Yancheng said gently.

She obeyed, and he tucked her in carefully.

Then Fu Yancheng took a quick shower himself, lifted the comforter on the other side, and lay down beside her.

This time, he made no inappropriate moves.

He simply extended his uninjured arm and pulled her gently into his embrace.

“Sleep,” he murmured. “I’m just holding you, nothing more.”

Qiao Xi gazed at his calm profile, the overwhelming embarrassment gradually replaced by warmth.

She closed her eyes, and for the first time, realized that Fu Yancheng could also be so awkwardly gentle.

Her taut body slowly relaxed, and with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat in her ear, she drifted into deep sleep.

—

Morning.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the suite.

Qiao Xi was the first to wake, only to find herself still tightly cradled in Fu Yancheng’s arms.

His eyes were closed, his breathing even, his sleeping face serene—stripped of his usual severity, he seemed almost tender.

She was just about to slip away quietly when Fu Yancheng slowly opened his eyes.

His gaze was deep, tinged with the languor of waking.

“You’re awake?” His voice was husky, magnetic.

“Mm…” Qiao Xi blushed and answered softly.

Instead of letting her go, Fu Yancheng tightened his hold, drawing her closer.

“Last night…” he drawled deliberately, his gaze lingering on the flush at the tips of her ears. “Did Mrs. Fu sleep well?”

At once, Qiao Xi recalled all of last night’s awkwardness. Her cheeks blazed, and she buried her face in the crook of his neck in mortification. “Don’t say it…”

Fu Yancheng let out a low, amused laugh.

He bent down, his lips grazing her sensitive ear, barely there. “What’s this? Shy?”

He paused, his tone dropping seductively. “What we didn’t finish last night… Mrs. Fu, you’ll have to make it up to me next time.”

“You—!” Qiao Xi was so flustered and embarrassed by his brazen words that she felt herself burning all over.

Watching her face turn scarlet and her beautiful eyes shimmer with unshed tears, Fu Yancheng’s eyes danced with mischief and indulgence.

At last, he relented, pressing a gentle morning kiss to her forehead.

“Alright, I’ll stop teasing you,” he murmured indulgently. “Time to get up, Mrs. Fu.”

He released her and sat up.

Qiao Xi watched his tall, straight figure, the lingering embarrassment in her heart gradually replaced by a soft and sweet affection.

—

The next day, a major cross-border acquisition hit a sudden snag at the company—Fu Yancheng had to fly to Europe in person to address it.

During the week that followed, Qiao Xi’s life seemed to settle into normalcy again, yet subtle changes were everywhere.

Every evening as work ended, Zhou Ze would unfailingly appear at the Fu Corporation building to escort her back to Fu Yancheng’s hillside villa, never missing a day.

On the weekend.

In a chic Michelin-starred restaurant downtown.

Her best friend Chu Xiangxiang had finally found time to treat Qiao Xi to a meal.

Since her marriage was still a secret, Qiao Xi hadn’t told her about marrying Fu Yancheng. Instead, she simply complained about the recent endless overtime in the lab.

“Look, look! Isn’t that your boss, President Fu?!”

Chu Xiangxiang suddenly lowered her voice in excitement, nudging Qiao Xi and glancing toward a window-side private booth.

Qiao Xi followed her gaze.

Her heart lurched.

By the best window seat, she saw Fu Yancheng sitting across from a woman.

The woman, her back to Qiao Xi, had flawless makeup and an air of cool, capable elegance. She was tall, dressed in a white suit, exuding both professionalism and intellectual poise.

Who is that woman…?