◎ Let Her Eat ◎
The small film set was tense,
Yuan Lai and Lin Yajie were at each other’s throats, the air crackling with hostility, as if they might start throwing punches any second.
Everyone watching was part of Lin Yajie’s team, all standing behind her like a wall of moral support—but when it came to actual muscle, she only had one bodyguard.
That bodyguard, however, had only ever shoved away overzealous fans before; he’d never been in a real fight.
Facing the two men behind Yuan Lai—both wearing sunglasses, suits, and radiating professional bodyguard energy—he was already rattled before the fight could even begin.
Today, Lin Yajie had lost the upper hand. She’d definitely hire more bodyguards after this.
Yuan Lai only had two men with her, but each was worth ten of the other side’s. They stood unflinching.
Lin Yajie’s eyes locked onto the sight of their joined hands. The resentment burned—
Why was it that when she so much as tugged at Song Qingxu’s sleeve, Qingxu acted like she’d touched something filthy and shook her off,
yet this woman could hold her hand so openly?
“You don’t know Song Qingxu’s married?” Lin Yajie snapped.
“She has a partner, and you’re still holding her hand—what, desperate to be a homewrecker?”
Of course Yuan Lai knew.
At this moment, she wanted to shout the truth to everyone—that she was Song Qingxu’s spouse!
But she couldn’t.
Back when they got married, Song Qingxu had made it clear: she didn’t want their relationship public in the industry yet.
So people knew Qingxu was married, but not to whom.
Still, just because she couldn’t go public didn’t mean she couldn’t show off.
Yuan Lai was not the type to swallow her anger. She deliberately lifted their clasped hands and waved them right in front of Lin Yajie’s face.
Chin tilted proudly, she said,
“I am holding her hand. Not only now—I’ll hold it every single day.”
Her fierce retort was, in truth, her deepest wish.
Lin Yajie was too angry to speak. She had never met anyone quite like Yuan Lai.
“You… you…”
“What, me?” Yuan Lai rolled her eyes. “If you’re stuttering, go see a doctor.”
“Enough!” Song Qingxu’s voice cut through the tension, and instantly both women fell silent.
Yuan Lai stole a glance at her, trying to guess her mood. Seeing Qingxu’s lips pressed in a thin line, she quickly signaled her bodyguard to bring out the gift.
A gift could soften her mood.
“I was shopping this afternoon, saw this by chance, and thought it suited you,” Yuan Lai said brightly.
The bodyguard carrying the signature F-brand box thought silently:
By chance? You spent forever picking it out, and nearly stuffed yourself with their pastries while deciding.
Yuan Lai gazed at Song Qingxu with hopeful eyes, making it impossible for Qingxu to voice the refusal she’d been about to say.
Against her better judgment, she wanted to see what was inside.
When the lid lifted—
Qingxu hadn’t even had time to gasp before a collective hiss rose from Lin Yajie’s side.
“—Hhhhhh—”
As a jewelry lover, Lin Yajie recognized it instantly.
“That’s F’s ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream’!”
Yuan Lai glanced at her in mild surprise—she hadn’t expected her to know.
But her attention quickly returned to Qingxu, whose face revealed nothing—no joy, no dislike.
Anxious, Yuan Lai asked, “Do you… like it?”
It was hard for Song Qingxu not to like it.
The moment she saw the set, she thought of last night’s luminous moonlight. Words couldn’t capture its beauty—like the moonlight had settled into her heart.
“I do,” she said softly, her eyes filled with warmth. “I like it very much.”
Hearing that, satisfaction flooded Yuan Lai. See? I have great taste in gifts.
Yuan Lai immediately lifted the necklace from the box. “Let me put it on for you.”
From a distance, Lin Yajie suddenly found the set lights unbearably bright. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t tear her gaze from the jewel gracing Qingxu’s neck.
A true master’s work—breathtaking.
“And there’s a ring,” Yuan Lai said, pulling out the matching piece. “I’ll put this on you too.”
In the plain, noisy set,
Yuan Lai lowered her head, holding Qingxu’s hand with one hand while sliding the ring onto her finger with the other.
The light shone on Yuan Lai, giving her a gentle halo from Qingxu’s perspective—
the woman who was usually so distant now seemed… closer.
Qingxu suddenly realized: the Yuan Lai slipping a ring onto her finger now was nothing like the Yuan Lai who had done so at their wedding.
That day, she had been perfunctory—fulfilling an obligation.
Today, she was treating it like handling a treasure.
Though the setting was plain and the crowd noisy,
in Qingxu’s eyes, Yuan Lai today was far more sincere and moving than she had been on their wedding day.
Yuan Lai slid the ring onto her ring finger deliberately—a stealthy claim of ownership, a silent announcement that she was married.
Perfect fit.
“It’s beautiful!” Yuan Lai’s eyes shone with admiration. “The jewels suit you.”
By now, Lin Yajie was almost choking on her own envy.
She’d just mocked Qingxu for having an old Alpha spouse who didn’t even give her a diamond ring—
and now, a young Alpha was sliding a diamond-encrusted floral ring onto her finger in front of everyone.
“Song Qingxu,” Lin Yajie cut in sharply, “aren’t you afraid I’ll tell the media about you two flaunting your relationship in public?”
Yuan Lai’s heart leapt. Yes! Leak it! Please leak it!
If she could, she’d even buy a trending topic for it—
she wanted everyone to know who was lucky enough to have such a perfect wife.
Her. Yuan Lai.
But Song Qingxu’s next words shattered that little dream. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried clearly across the set:
“Then I won’t mind telling them about you throwing tantrums in the makeup room.”
Lin Yajie glared at them both before storming off, tossing one last barb over her shoulder:
“Instead of clinging to each other here, maybe think about what’ll happen if your old Alpha finds out.”
Yuan Lai blinked. “Old Alpha?”
“Nothing.” Qingxu didn’t bother explaining. Lin Yajie had apparently read some baseless gossip claiming she’d married an older Alpha and believed it wholeheartedly.
No point telling Yuan Lai about such nonsense.
“Ohhh…” Yuan Lai answered casually, but her eyes followed Lin Yajie’s retreating back.
She wondered silently: Could it be that neither she nor Song Qingxu knew about the old Alpha? The novel didn’t seem to mention it. Narrowing her eyes, she gazed into the distance, realizing she couldn’t depend too heavily on the book’s contents.
“Are you coming?” Song Qingxu, walking ahead, stopped and turned to look at her.
Yuan Lai instantly dropped the thought, took a few big steps, and caught up.
“Coming!”
Her eyes shone like a puppy’s, warm and bright—brighter, perhaps, than the diamonds on the necklace.
Qingxu felt almost scorched by that gaze. She looked away after only a second.
The car was waiting where they’d gotten out earlier.
Yuan Lai told the driver, “Back to Tangbei No. 1.”
Tangbei No. 1 was their marital home—a spacious apartment in the city center.
On weekends, they sometimes stayed at the old family house to keep Yuan Jingyun company,
but otherwise, they lived here.
In the past month, though, “living together” was more nominal than real.
Qingxu worked long hours; Yuan Lai had no job but seemed even busier—out at bars almost every night, rarely home.
In fact, the times she’d been home could be counted on one hand.
So when she suggested going home today, Qingxu couldn’t help glancing at her.
Without traffic, the car reached their destination quickly.
As Qingxu gathered her skirt to get out, Yuan Lai had already stepped out, come around to her side, and opened the door, hand extended.
Qingxu paused briefly before placing her hand in Yuan Lai’s and stepping down with her support.
“Careful.”
Ruan Lai’s movements were gentle, careful.
For a fleeting moment, Qingxu thought—
Maybe… it wouldn’t be so bad to go on like this.
They had married to fulfill Qingxu’s mother’s dying wish, with no emotional foundation. The plan was to divorce amicably after a while. Yuan Lai had agreed.
But now… things weren’t going as planned.
An unwelcome thought had taken root in her heart.
Yuan Lai, oblivious to Qingxu’s musings, was filled only with joy at holding her hand.
Another day touching my wife’s hand!
(Even if only for a little while.)
After escorting Song Qingxu back to her bedroom door, Yuan Lai finally stopped. She and Song Qingxu still slept in separate rooms—Yuan Lai’s was on the opposite side of the house.
Only after seeing Song Qingxu’s door close did Yuan Lai head back downstairs, where the driver was waiting in the car as she’d instructed.
“Back to the old house.”
Meanwhile, Song Qingxu, having changed into her loungewear, stepped out of her room intending to ask whether Yuan Lai wanted the housekeeper to come cook dinner or if they should eat out.
But the moment she glanced around, she realized the house was empty again—just her, alone.
Her half-open mouth slowly closed, the light in her eyes dimming bit by bit.
Yuan Lai’s figure was nowhere to be seen. No doubt, she was off to some nightclub again.
Song Qingxu lowered her gaze; a gray mist seemed to settle over her eyes. The tiny spark of hope that had just begun to sprout in her heart withered instantly.
Without bothering to think about dinner anymore, she changed into another outfit and left the house as well.
The spacious apartment returned to its usual cold, echoing stillness.
________________________________________
Yuan Lai got out of the car and went straight toward the small villa where Yuan Jingyun lived. Although she and Song Qingxu occasionally stayed at the old house, they didn’t live in the same building as Yuan Jingyun.
Yuan Jingyun’s place was the east villa; Yuan Lai and Song Qingxu stayed in the west one. The two were close enough to walk between.
The moment Yuan Lai stepped inside, she saw Yuan Jingyun half-reclined on the sofa, watching a movie starring Song Qingxu.
She got straight to the point.
“Mom, why did you hang up on me?”
Yuan Jingyun spared her a glance at last. “Oh? So it really was you calling. I thought it was some scammer.”
Her eyes never left the television screen as she spoke, the perfunctory tone as clear as day.
Yuan Lai plopped down beside her and started watching the movie too.
“I’m serious about starting my own company,” Yuan Lai began, eyes still fixed on the screen. Mid-sentence, her voice changed tone, “—Wow! She’s so beautiful!”
“Do you know what entrepreneurs fear most?” Yuan Jingyun asked.
“What?”
“That their children want to start a business.” On-screen, Song Qingxu appeared again. “Qingxu really is such a good actress.” Yuan Jingyun answered.
“I’m different,” Yuan Lai insisted, unable to tear her gaze from the screen. “Yes—she’s beautiful and talented.”
The two fell silent, wordlessly agreeing to wait until the movie ended before continuing the conversation.
Partway through, Aunt Wang came over and asked if Yuan Lai was staying for dinner.
“Aunt Wang, have the kitchen make a few extra dishes for me to take back.” Yuan Lai said.
Yuan Jingyun chuckled. “What, you think this is a restaurant now? Coming here to order takeout?”
Ignoring her, Yuan Lai began listing dishes. “Aunt Wang, I want black truffle wagyu fried rice, lemon shrimp, and stir-fried bok choy.”
Yuan Jingyun frowned. “Aren’t you allergic to seafood?”
Yuan Lai froze—she hadn’t expected the original “Yuan Lai” to share her own allergy.
“Yesterday at dinner, I noticed Qingxu really likes shrimp. I’ll take it back for her.”
Hearing that, a smile immediately spread across Yuan Jingyun’s face. “Aunt Wang, add her favorite sweet-and-sour pork to the order.”
Coincidentally, the original owner’s tastes matched hers exactly.
Yuan Jingyun’s expression softened. “Since you’re married, you should treat Qingxu well. She’s a good girl.”
“I will,” Yuan Lai promised with all seriousness.
When the movie finally ended, Yuan Lai said again, “Mom, I’m starting an entertainment company.”
“Why?” Yuan Jingyun asked.
That opened the floodgates. “You have no idea how much Qingxu’s company exploits her. The entire place runs on her hard work alone.”
Stars seemed to glimmer in Yuan Lai’s eyes. “So I’m going to start my own company and sign her.”
“So this sudden urge to start a company is all for Qingxu?” Yuan Jingyun asked.
Yuan Lai nodded.
“Do you even know how to run a company?” Yuan Jingyun asked again.
“I don’t,” she admitted honestly. “I don’t need to. I just need to hire the right people who do know.”
Yuan Lai stood to stretch; sitting too long had made her back sore. “Just like you—you’re away for more than half the month, but does your company stop running? No. It’s the professionals who keep it going, even working late into the night.”
Yuan Lai gestured to herself. “My role is to bring those professionals together.”
A trace of approval flickered in Yuan Jingyun’s eyes. “Seems marriage has made you more mature.”
She picked up her phone and called her personal financial advisor to prepare an evaluation.
“Thanks, Mom!” Yuan Lai beamed.
“Remember what you said today—treat Qingxu well.” A sigh escaped Yuan Jingyun’s lips as she thought of Song Zhilan. “After her mother passed, Qingxu hasn’t had any family.”
Without hesitation, Yuan Lai replied, “She has me! I’ll be her family.”
“I hope you mean that.” Yuan Jingyun said.
“I never go back on my word!” Yuan Lai replied.
________________________________________
Yuan Lai returned home carrying the takeout from the kitchen. She rang the doorbell, waiting for quite a while, but no one came to open it.
Maybe Qingxu didn’t hear it from her room?
Thinking nothing of it, she unlocked the door with her fingerprint and stepped inside.
“Our dinner’s all set!” Yuan Lai called.
The house was silent, her voice echoing through the empty living room.
She looked around—no sign of Qingxu.
She went to knock on her bedroom door—still no answer.
Perhaps she had gone out. That’s what Yuan Lai told herself.
Worried the food would get cold, she plated everything neatly in the dining room and sat at the table to wait.
She waited from sunset to nightfall,
From nightfall to the dead of night.
The tightly closed bedroom door never moved—left behind like something forgotten.
Yuan Lai never saw Song Qingxu come home that night.