It was Zhou Yannan.
He had returned after handling his matters and changed into loose, comfortable loungewear. He was sitting on the sofa at the foot of the bed, reading.
The black silk sleepwear made him look especially stern, with not a trace of warmth or approachability.
Qiao Shuran’s mind suddenly flashed back to that bloodied hand.
She quietly pulled the blanket tighter around herself and even tried to shrink further inside it.
But the man still noticed the movement on the bed. He set down his book and walked over.
His voice was as pleasant as ever. “Did you sleep well?”
“Not bad.”
His tall figure drew closer. Instinctively, Qiao Shuran shifted to the other side of the bed, trying to put more distance between them.
He did not mind. He simply sat at the edge of the bed and looked at her with a low chuckle. “Afraid of me?”
She had been the one who had voluntarily sat on his lap two days ago.
“I’m not…”
Her shoulders trembled slightly, and she silently blamed herself for being useless.
She had done nothing wrong—why should she be afraid of him?
“I’m just a little hungry,” she said.
“Alright, I’ll have someone send food up.”
His tone was unexpectedly gentle.
Perhaps he also felt that it had been inappropriate for her to witness something like that.
It was all Zhou Bingchen’s fault.
“Mm… okay.” She murmured softly under the blanket.
In truth, she was not really hungry. She simply wanted something to occupy the awkwardness.
Otherwise, being alone with him in the same room made the atmosphere feel too suggestive.
And right now, she did not yet have the courage for anything like that.
After Zhou Yannan finished his call, dinner was quickly delivered. The servants arranged the dishes and silently withdrew.
The room was again left with only the two of them.
Along with the food, a bottle of red wine was also brought in. Zhou Yannan held a glass, swirling it slightly, then raised an eyebrow at her.
“Want some?”
“Just a little is fine.”
She could not eat much anyway—she might as well drink a bit for courage.
She admitted she was a coward.
But Zhou Yannan only poured her half a glass, his long fingers gently pushing it toward her.
“You’re not in good health. Don’t drink too much.”
“Mm, thank you.”
Qiao Shuran felt she must have been frightened senseless. She held the glass carefully and did not even dare look at him.
She had no idea where all that boldness from a few days ago had gone.
“You’re my Madam. You don’t need to be so polite with me.”
He had noticed her fear. His voice remained calm as he swirled the liquid in his glass, expression unreadable.
“And you don’t need to be afraid of me.”
He could do harmful things to others—but she was not “others.”
“Mm, I understand.” She took a small sip.
Still, she had no appetite for the food.
Zhou Yannan also ate very little. He was naturally picky, and the local cuisine here did not suit him.
Even though he had specifically instructed the kitchen to prepare Hancheng dishes, the taste still lacked authenticity.
He set down his chopsticks after a few bites. “You know Zhou Bingchen?”
At noon in the basement, he had seen Zhou Bingchen grabbing her arm.
She was his elder, so it was not inappropriate. But he should not have thought she would plead and expect him to show mercy.
“I don’t know him. I’ve only heard of his name,” she said, wiping her mouth with a tissue.
“I remember now.”
The man across from her curved his lips slightly.
“Last year, or the year before, Grandmother tried to arrange something between you two.”
His tone was light, his smile faint. Qiao Shuran could not tell what he meant by suddenly bringing it up.
But it was definitely not jealousy.
“Yes. We’re about the same age. Grandmother wanted to strengthen family ties through marriage.”
“Then why didn’t it happen?” he asked, suddenly curious.
She paused, then answered honestly, “Because before he returned from Hong Kong, I already married you.”
“I see.”
He raised an eyebrow slightly and did not continue.
Her implication was clear—if Zhou Bingchen had returned earlier, there would have been no place for him.
But he did not care. He never cared about the process, only the result.
Since they were talking about Zhou Bingchen, she casually asked, “Where is he?”
“What, you want to see him?”
He took a sip of wine, his tone still calm.
“No, I was just asking.” She rested her chin on her hand, her cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol.
“He’s kneeling outside.”
Zhou Yannan’s tone turned cold. “If you want to see him, just pull back the curtain.”
She actually did.
She stood up and walked to the window, pulling the heavy curtains aside.
Outside, garden lights glowed dimly through the rain. In the courtyard, a straight figure was kneeling.
He did not move at all, even as the rain struck him repeatedly.
“He’s your nephew,” she said, turning back in surprise.
She had no intention of interfering in their family matters, nor did she intend to plead for him.
But during these past few days, she had seen that he had always been lenient toward the younger generation.
Today, for some reason, he seemed unusually harsh.
“It’s cold and still raining. Maybe you could let him kneel indoors instead,” she said softly.
“Alright.”
The man seemed unusually patient tonight.
He picked up his phone and called A Wen.
“Tell him to go kneel inside.”
After hanging up, he tilted his chin toward her. “I did as you said. Now you should behave too.”
“Behave how?” she did not understand.
“Listen to me.”
His gaze locked onto her.
She was wearing a dark green silk nightdress.
The thin straps and side slit revealed a long, pale leg whenever she moved.
And with the wine, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes slightly unfocused—
Too tempting.
A familiar heat rose within him.
His lower abdomen tightened uncomfortably.
For a brief moment, he even felt like a beast.
He wanted to walk over immediately and make her cry.
He had never had such dark thoughts about anyone before.
But after she appeared, he admitted he had become far too unrestrained.
Qiao Shuran noticed the raw emotion in his eyes and her face turned completely red. “What do you want me to do?”
His throat moved slightly as he reached out.
“Finish what we didn’t finish before.”
She did not even know how she ended up in front of him.
By the time she reacted, her dress had already fallen to the floor.
The hem was torn apart like a piece of rag.
He supported her waist and pulled her onto his lap.
When he kissed her until she was dizzy, he guided her hands to unbutton his shirt.
She could barely breathe.
He seemed not to understand the meaning of “gentle” at all.
The kiss was fierce, urgent—like a warrior storming a city.
She followed his movements, pulling off his sleepwear, her nails leaving red marks on his back.
From the table to the bed, she scratched, then bit, and finally was reduced to tears.
But her tears only intensified everything.
Veins bulged on his arms as he held her tightly, losing more and more control.
“It hurts…”
She sobbed against him. “Can you… be faster…”
“Not fast enough?” he asked, breath heavy near her ear.
“How fast do you want it, hm?”
“No…” she managed between breaths. “I mean… finish faster…”
“Alright, I’ll try.”
He coaxed her patiently. “Bear with me a little longer…”
He kissed her swollen lips, increasingly rough as he neared the edge of control.
Yet her tear-streaked face made it impossible not to feel pity.
“Be good… just a little longer…”
His lips brushed her burning ear as he whispered, “It’s almost over…”
His eyes were red, voice trembling, arms locked tightly around her waist as if he might break her apart.
It ended in the middle of the night. The sheets were soaked with her tears.
After cleaning her up, Zhou Yannan called someone in to change the bedding.
At the same time, in a dim room on the first floor, Zhou Bingchen was still kneeling as punishment.
He knew exactly what he had done wrong.
Being too soft-hearted. Poor judgment in handling family ties. Covering for his uncle despite knowing the mistake.
So he accepted the punishment willingly.
But just as he had been kneeling in the rain, he was suddenly allowed to move back indoors.
That was not his Fourth Uncle’s style.
There was only one explanation—someone had pleaded for him.
And he already knew who had that courage.
He remembered this favor from Qiao Shuran.
But near dawn, a hospital call came again. His uncle’s condition had worsened and required urgent transfer.
He did not dare decide on his own and went to Zhou Yannan’s door.
The room was soundproof, but faint cries still drifted out.
He could not knock.
A man understood another man best—interrupting now would only make things worse.
After some time, the door opened and a maid came in with fresh bedding.
Taking the chance, he slipped inside.
Avoiding the messy room, he stopped in front of Zhou Yannan.
“Fourth Uncle, the hospital called. My uncle’s condition is not stable. They need approval for an immediate transfer.”
Zhou Yannan stood by the table drinking water. His peripheral vision caught the figure on the sofa—someone curled under a thin blanket, a pale shoulder exposed.
“Get out.”
He set the cup down and walked over, covering her properly.
Zhou Bingchen immediately retreated outside.
Zhou Yannan had no intention of letting anyone die. Cutting off one of Song Haibo’s hands had only been a warning.
Now that the purpose was achieved, he allowed the transfer.
Returning to the room, he carried the woman from the sofa to the bed.
While cleaning her earlier, he had already noticed—she was not in good condition.
And he had indeed been too rough.
But he had not expected her to be so fragile.
At such a late hour, this was already the second time calling a doctor since their marriage.
He could not tell whether he was too harsh—or she was too delicate.
This time, he specifically called a female doctor and asked for medication.
While she slept, he applied the ointment for her.