This marriage was, frankly, just going through the motions.
It could even be said to be a signal—a signal that the Jin and Song families were on good terms.
The news of the marriage was only known within this circle.
The wedding didn’t even bother with formalities; an affair conducted purely for mutual benefit didn’t require much fanfare.
Everyone knew it, and everyone tacitly understood.
For Song Qingtang, it was just a change of scenery.
A change to a place that seemed even more prosperous than before.
Lin Hanyi brought Song Qingtang to the Jin residence. A servant nearby saw them and led Song Qingtang inside the villa.
The servant was around the same age as Nanny Liu. After seeing Song Qingtang, she merely pressed her lips together and guided her up to the second floor of the villa.
“Please don’t mind, miss. Our madam doesn’t mean any ill will toward you.”
The servant said in a low voice.
As if trying to comfort her.
Song Qingtang smiled slightly. “It’s fine.”
She had long known this was a business marriage; she hadn’t held any expectations to begin with.
So her emotions remained undisturbed.
The servant sighed, casting a pitying glance at Song Qingtang.
This young lady of the Song family—her features were striking, and every gesture carried the grace of a distinguished household.
How could she have ended up married here?
And to the eldest young master of the Jin family, no less.
She led Song Qingtang to the door and opened it for her.
Watching Song Qingtang step inside, the servant couldn’t hold back and finally spoke:
“Miss Song, our eldest young master has a temper. Please be patient with him.”
Song Qingtang nodded. “Thank you.”
She curved her brows into a smile.
The servant nodded and withdrew.
Song Qingtang walked into the room.
The room’s color palette was almost entirely cold tones, and it was exceptionally clean.
There wasn’t a trace of life in it—it even felt somewhat lifeless.
The room was large, making it seem especially empty.
Song Qingtang looked around. It had a separate study, bedroom, bathroom, and even a guest room.
Without exception, all of them were empty.
She guessed that the eldest young master of the Jin family, as the servant had called him, not only had a bad temper.
He also didn’t like coming home.
Perhaps he was just as dissatisfied with this marriage as she was.
Maybe she wouldn’t even see him tonight.
Alone in the room with nothing to do, Song Qingtang sat by herself on the sofa.
She messaged Lin Qiaoshi.
Lin Qiaoshi knew about her marriage—the unread messages on WeChat had already piled past ninety-nine.
[Lin Qiaoshi: Qingqing, do you know what kind of person Jin Zhuochuan, the eldest young master of the Jin family, is?!]
[Lin Qiaoshi: He’s notorious in this circle for being fickle and heartless. Even if I’m just a broke photographer, I know he’s truly ruthless.]
[Lin Qiaoshi: Also, I heard from others that he’s actually killed someone before. Smashed the guy’s head right open!]
[Lin Qiaoshi: You need to—right now—run from this marriage!]
Song Qingtang looked at the messages Lin Qiaoshi had sent.
She pressed her lips together, thought for a moment, then replied.
[Song Qingtang: Don’t worry, I haven’t even seen him yet today.]
[Song Qingtang: He doesn’t seem to like coming home. Maybe we won’t even run into each other much.]
After sending that, Song Qingtang continued typing in the message box.
And it’s just a contractual marriage, with a time limit…
Before she could finish typing that part.
The door let out a soft creak.
Someone walked in from outside. The footsteps were faint.
Song Qingtang instinctively pressed her phone screen off and looked toward the door.
The person who entered seemed to have only white shoes—black trousers, and even a black shirt. His hands were in his pockets, revealing a section of forearm with smooth muscle lines, and his exposed wrist was lean and strong, carrying a sense of power.
The man walked in.
Song Qingtang got a clear look at him.
His hair was slightly disheveled, with stray strands at his forehead barely covering his brows and eyes. The depths of his eyes seemed tinged with ink.
Phoenix eyes, with sharp upturned corners, looking untamed and defiant.
Thin lips, a vivid crimson, as if made for heartlessness.
The aura he carried was casual and languid, yet edged with angular sharpness.
It made people want to keep their distance, a chill creeping into their hearts.
But Song Qingtang couldn’t help but freeze.
How could it be him?
The man she’d seen that night in that damp, dark alley—he was actually the eldest young master of the Jin family.
Jin Zhuochuan.
Her gaze lingered for two seconds.
And in those two seconds, Jin Zhuochuan walked up to her.
He leaned against the back of the sofa beside her, his gaze settling on her.
At ease, languid, and looking down from above.
The presence he carried was impossible to ignore—overpowering and inescapable.
Song Qingtang blinked, suppressing the surprise in her heart.
She said nothing.
Until the man beside her let out a very soft scoff.
“Surprised to see me?”
It was phrased as a question, but the tone was certain.
His tone was gentler than that night—without the sharp edges, sounding considerably milder.
Song Qingtang pressed her lips together before answering, “A little.”
Her tone was sincere.
She was indeed a little surprised.
“You didn’t even know who I was, and you still dared to marry—”
Jin Zhuochuan paused, as if deliberately, or as if weighing his words.
After a moment, he finished: “You’ve got some nerve.”
“…”
The mockery in his tone was unmistakable.
Song Qingtang looked up at him.
He was entirely at ease, one hand propped against the edge of the sofa, the top two buttons of his collar undone.
His collarbones were prominent, his skin a cold, pale white.
Yet his overall mood seemed rather low, listless and uninterested.
“Because I don’t have any other choice,” Song Qingtang said.
After she said this, she felt the air grow even more silent.
She could sense that his gaze seemed to turn somewhat heavy.
A faint trace of dark irritation seemed to seep from the corners of his eyes, and even the depths of his gaze became murky and hard to read.
But this flicker of emotion was extremely brief, vanishing in an instant.
As if she had imagined it.
With the two of them together, even the air seemed to stagnate.
There was truly nothing left to say.
He carried a dampness about him, and even the surrounding air was tinged with moisture.
As if he had rushed back in a hurry.
Because of her words.
He seemed uninterested in saying anything more to her, or perhaps too lazy to speak.
Only a faint laugh escaped him, like a mockery, his mood inscrutable.
He walked straight into the bathroom nearby.
Then the sound of trickling water began.
His entire sequence of movements was utterly fluid.
As if he completely ignored her existence, as if it didn’t matter whether she was there or not.
Everything about him continued as usual.
Completely unaffected.
Song Qingtang silently processed this for two seconds, comforting herself, It’s fine. It probably won’t end in death.
Then she picked up her phone.
Lin Qiaoshi had bombarded her with messages again.
[Lin Qiaoshi: Where are you?]
[Lin Qiaoshi: You didn’t get into trouble, did you?]
[Lin Qiaoshi: Don’t scare me. I’m buying a plane ticket right now, I’ll come take you away.]
Song Qingtang licked her lips before replying.
[Song Qingtang: I’m really fine.]
After sending that message.
She thought for a moment.
[Song Qingtang: From what I can tell so far, that eldest young master Jin doesn’t seem to have any intention of breaking the law.]
[Song Qingtang: So don’t worry.]
[Lin Qiaoshi: Fine, fine, you’re just stubborn.]
[Lin Qiaoshi: If anything happens, remember to tell me.]
[Song Qingtang: Okay. I will. /Heart]
After finishing messaging Lin Qiaoshi, she found the video of today’s performance by the Moon-Chasing Dance Troupe online.
The dance they performed was one Song Qingtang had choreographed for them before, and the effect was excellent.
She glanced at the comment section—the reception was very positive.
Song Qingtang scrolled down, about to exit.
Then she unexpectedly spotted a comment.
[A Name: That girl standing in the C position, I’ve never seen her before. Wasn’t it always Qingqing in the C position? Why did they switch this time?]
Below, a reply.
[Raising the Flag for Qingqing: Qingqing had something going on today, so she couldn’t participate in the performance. As for the girl in the C position, I don’t know her either.]
Song Qingtang read the comments for a while, then watched the performance video again.
The person in the C position was someone even Song Qingtang had never seen.
Was it because she’d been too busy these past few days, and someone new had joined?
She furrowed her brows, about to go ask Lin Jiaying.
But then she heard the water stop, and the bathroom door handle turn.
Jin Zhuochuan walked out.
He was casually wrapped in just a bath towel, his hair still dripping wet.
Even his eyelashes were damp with moisture, his eyes seeming washed and glistening, like black obsidian.
Water droplets from the tips of his hair fell along the contours of his face, tracing past his collarbone, downward, moistening his clearly defined chest before disappearing into the towel.
After walking out, he saw Song Qingtang still sitting on the sofa.
Her position hadn’t even changed.
He paused for a second, the hand wiping his hair with the towel freezing mid-motion.
“Why are you still sitting here?”
His voice seemed somewhat moist, as if tinged with water vapor.
His tone was flat, impossible to read any emotional fluctuation.
As if this were merely the most ordinary of questions.
Song Qingtang looked at him, and suddenly found it somewhat absurd.
“Then where should I be?”
The air was silent for two seconds, as if he had finally realized.
The two of them were now in a married relationship.
He nodded, saying nothing more.
He seemed to be looking for something, pacing back and forth, wearing nothing else.
Just a bath towel wrapped around him.
Song Qingtang clutched her phone, feeling somewhat dazed.
She was thinking, even if this was a marriage of convenience, surely they should still exercise some basic decency in daily life.
How could he just walk around so casually dressed like that?
“You…” Song Qingtang began.
She paused.
Almost the moment the sound left her lips, she regretted it.
How was she supposed to say it to him?
Could you please put some clothes on?
Could you stop walking around in front of me half-naked?
Could you be a little more mindful?
Jin Zhuochuan, who was about to head to the study, heard her voice and stopped in his tracks.
He looked at her quietly.
As if waiting for her to finish her sentence.
“After we’re married, could you…”
Before she could finish.
She saw a hint of expected relief flicker across Jin Zhuochuan’s brows and eyes.
Her words came to an abrupt halt.
Then she heard Jin Zhuochuan say in a natural tone: “Don’t worry.”
His tone was relaxed.
Song Qingtang breathed a sigh of relief, looking at him seriously.
So he had realized it too.
“I have no interest in you.”
“I won’t touch you now, and I won’t touch you in the future either.”
Song Qingtang: “?”
Song Qingtang: “What I mean is, after we get married, could you be a bit more mindful?”
“Don’t just walk around in a towel.”
Jin Zhuochuan: “…?”