Upon hearing this, a faintly mocking smile curled at the corner of Meng Jianchen’s lips. He said,
“This hotel only has two presidential suites. The one next door belongs to my dad.”
“At this hour, the rest of the rooms are fully booked. We also have to have breakfast with my dad tomorrow morning. Do you want him to find out we’re sleeping in separate rooms?”
What he said sounded perfectly logical—irrefutable.
A light blush spread over Chen Luoru’s cheeks. Her half-damp hair clung to her delicate, smooth shoulders, and droplets of water rolled slowly along her collarbone.
The heart-shaped pink diamond necklace gleamed radiantly under the steam—its brilliance undimmed.
Her glistening peach blossom eyes blinked, but she couldn’t manage a single word in response.
It wasn’t until Meng Jianchen entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him that she finally snapped out of it.
Fuming, Chen Luoru flung open the wardrobe and quickly changed into one of the hotel’s provided bathrobes.
After getting into bed, she wrapped herself tightly in the blanket like a little silkworm cocoon.
The king-sized hotel bed had more than enough room for two people, but she deliberately pressed herself to the very edge like a dumpling clinging to the skillet.
Since marrying Meng Jianchen, they had met only a handful of times. There was no real intimacy between them—not even casual gestures, let alone sharing a bed.
The sound of running water from the bathroom irritated her endlessly.
Curled up under the covers, she opened her phone, tapped into Weibo, and hoped reading netizens’ harsh comments would soothe her bitter heart.
[“Who hasn’t dated a few scumbags in their life? You’re still young—cut your losses early.”]
[“Some guys think just ‘cause they’ve got a penis, they can do whatever they want. What is this—royalty?”]
[“You put up with that for four years? No wonder you got walked all over.”]
…
The first few posts were oddly satisfying—but the more she read, the more off they seemed.
The netizens were raging at everyone and everything, indiscriminately throwing shade—even she wasn’t spared.
Chen Luoru started to feel annoyed… and sleepy.
As her eyelids grew heavier, she dozed off without realizing, exhaustion overtaking her after staying up so late.
When Meng Jianchen emerged from the bathroom, he saw Chen Luoru cocooned in the blankets, teetering right on the edge of the bed, like she’d fall off any second.
He was speechless.
What, is the center of the bed covered in spikes? Why is she clinging to the edge like that?
Silently, he walked over and wrapped his arms around the little white cocoon.
Her black lashes lay quietly against her cheeks, and her lips were plump and red like ripe cherries.
She looked much cuter asleep than when she was awake.
With a bit of strength, Meng Jianchen scooped her up and placed her properly on the bed.
But the movement startled Chen Luoru awake.
She opened her eyes to see him leaning over her—and his hand, through the blanket, resting inappropriately on her waist.
Like a frightened bird, Chen Luoru’s internal alarms blared.
What is this dog of a man trying to do?!
Her reflexes outpaced her thoughts. With a sharp “smack!”, she raised her hand and struck him.
Meng Jianchen was caught completely off guard by her sudden reaction and didn’t even think to dodge.
Before she fell asleep, Chen Luoru had been holding her phone—a custom diamond-encrusted model.
And let’s be honest—is there anything harder than diamonds? No.
Her phone struck him squarely on the lips, scraping off a bit of skin and drawing fresh blood.
This girl seriously sleeps with a self-defense weapon?
Meng Jianchen suddenly felt grateful they weren’t in America—if they were, she’d probably pull a gun from under her pillow.
“What are you doing?!” Chen Luoru scrambled backward out of the blanket in a panic, terrified he was about to take advantage of her.
Meng Jianchen touched his lip and, seeing blood on his fingertips, hissed under his breath.
He pulled a tissue from the nightstand, wiped his hand, and balled up the tissue before tossing it into the trash.
“You were about to fall off the bed,” he said calmly.
Chen Luoru eyed him with suspicion, as if trying to tell whether he was lying.
He pulled out another tissue and pressed it to his lip—blood instantly bloomed like a vivid red flower.
Tsk. That was a pretty serious injury.
Perhaps it was the vivid red color that shocked Chen Luoru into calming down—her wildly beating heart finally began to settle.
Watching him calmly tend to his wound, she figured he probably wasn’t in the mood to do anything to her now, right?
Then she remembered they were supposed to have breakfast with Meng Xiangdong in the morning. If her father-in-law found out she had injured Meng Jianchen like this, it would be a disaster.
Startled by the thought, Chen Luoru jumped out of bed.
Moments later, she returned to the bedside holding the hotel’s medical kit.
“Let me see.” Chen Luoru leaned in toward Meng Jianchen like a cautious little cat.
It was just a small patch of torn skin on his lip—nothing serious. She dipped some gauze in clean water and gently wiped the wound.
Under the hotel’s warm yellow lighting, the details of Meng Jianchen’s facial features were magnified.
No matter how many grievances she had against him, Chen Luoru had to admit—Meng Jianchen was almost unfairly handsome.
His brow bone was prominent, his features were sharply sculpted. His deep-set eyes were intense and commanding, and the bridge of his nose had a subtle, dignified bump—giving off a distinctly masculine aura.
His lips were especially attractive—thin and sensual—though now marred by injury.
The bleeding had finally slowed, but tiny red streaks still oozed out.
Chen Luoru held a cotton swab and stared at the box of medicine, unsure which one to use.
Meng Jianchen lifted a long-fingered hand and accurately pointed to a bottle of iodine: “Just disinfect it.”
“Oh,” Chen Luoru replied, unscrewed the lid, dipped the swab into the iodine, and carefully dabbed it on his wound.
Unlike most rich heirs who pursued business degrees, Meng Jianchen had studied biomedical sciences at Stanford. He knew these medicines inside and out.
People said biochem, environmental science, materials engineering—those were the “four academic black holes.” Maybe he had a hole in his brain for even choosing it—and for sticking with it all the way through to a Ph.D. Still didn’t stop him from coming home to inherit a massive family business.
As Chen Luoru sized up Meng Jianchen, he was also quietly observing her.
Noticing her slender, fair fingers, he suddenly asked, “Where’s your ring?”
The cotton swab paused. With a trace of annoyance, Chen Luoru replied, “At home.”
Who knew where she’d tossed it—it had only ever been worn on their wedding day.
“Make sure you wear it,” Meng Jianchen said.
“I won’t,” she snapped, meeting his gaze with her glassy, jewel-like eyes. “It wasn’t meant for me anyway.”
When they’d gotten married, everything—from the wedding dress to the rings—had been custom-made for her older sister, Chen Yang.
No one expected such a mess to erupt right before the wedding, ending with the bride being swapped last minute. Everything was so rushed, there wasn’t even time to replace the wedding items.
Meng Jianchen didn’t respond.
After finishing the treatment, Chen Luoru silently packed the medical kit and returned it to its place.
When she came back to the bedroom, Meng Jianchen was already lying on the bed—occupying only the left side, leaving plenty of space on the right.
He said, “Sleep. We have to get up early.”
Chen Luoru turned off the lights and climbed into bed on the right side. Still feeling uneasy, she grabbed two spare pillows and set them up between them.
“No crossing the line,” she warned.
Her behavior was so childish, Meng Jianchen didn’t even dignify it with a response.
How undignified.
The night passed peacefully.
The next morning, just as the hotel’s wake-up call rang, Chen Luoru was sleeping soundly.
The jarring ringtone startled her awake. She opened her drowsy eyes—only to find she had rolled onto the left side of the bed. The pillows had been kicked to the foot, and she was clinging to Meng Jianchen with one leg draped over his waist.
She’d always had terrible sleeping posture—something she’d known since childhood. She often woke up at the foot of the bed.
But what could she do? Hire someone to monitor her sleeping position?
Besides, she usually slept alone. Who was there to complain?
Realizing she wasn’t wearing anything under her robe, Chen Luoru’s face turned bright red. She quickly pulled her leg back.
Meng Jianchen answered the phone and then turned to her: “Get up.”
His commanding tone left her no room to argue—she couldn’t even release her usual morning grumpiness.
The hotel staff brought the new underwear she had requested. Chen Luoru changed back into the same long dress from the night before.
While fixing his tie, Meng Jianchen said, “I have things to do after breakfast. You’re free to do what you want.”
They hadn’t even returned to China yet, and he was already controlling her schedule.
“I’m going back to bed after,” Chen Luoru muttered. “So tired.”
Putting on his suit jacket, Meng Jianchen replied, “Do as you please.”
At breakfast in the hotel restaurant, Meng Xiangdong immediately noticed the injury on his son’s lip.
The broken skin had scabbed slightly and was a bit swollen—noticeably unsightly.
“Ah Chen, what happened to your lip?” Meng Xiangdong asked.
Chen Luoru was stirring the sauce for her pasta when she heard the question. Guilt hit her like a wave.
She was about to lie and say he’d bumped into something, but Meng Jianchen beat her to it: “It’s nothing. Just a minor injury.”
Meng Xiangdong’s eyes shifted between them, then suddenly lit with understanding.
Everyone’s young once, after all. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder—and these two hadn’t seen each other in a while. A little passion getting out of hand was understandable.
Marital bliss—that was a good thing.
Still, to bite that much skin off his lip… must’ve been one intense night.
“Even between husband and wife, there should be limits,” Meng Xiangdong said earnestly. “You’ll be meeting people during the day.”
Meng Jianchen answered naturally, “Got it.”
Then Meng Xiangdong looked to Chen Luoru, as if waiting for her to respond too.
Chen Luoru didn’t immediately understand what he meant, so she just echoed Meng Jianchen: “Got it.”
Satisfied, Meng Xiangdong nodded and shifted topics.
“You’ve been married four years now. It’s about time for a child, don’t you think?”
Chen Luoru: “…”
How did the conversation end up here?
“Dad, Luoru’s still young,” Meng Jianchen said as he sipped his coffee. The hotel’s hand-ground brew was smooth, with even granules—a rich Jamaican Blue Mountain blend, bitter yet subtly sweet.
Finally—a sentence that made sense. Chen Luoru eagerly nodded in agreement.
“She might be young, but you’re not,” Meng Xiangdong said, voice full of meaning.
Chen Luoru kept nodding—So true. This old man is just a cradle robber with no shame.
“When I was your age, you were already born. You’d better not drag your feet,” Meng Xiangdong continued. “Look, even Luoru is nodding nonstop.”
As he said that, Meng Jianchen turned and looked at her.
Chen Luoru froze, her expression clearly saying: “That’s not what I meant—don’t you dare get the wrong idea!”
Meng Jianchen gave her a faint, amused smile.
“Alright then, we’ll get right on it.”
Sansukini: I think that, maybe, she felt like she’s just a substitute bride. Even the ring was supposed to be for her sister. I kinda understand how she feels, so she’s rebellious against him. She’s not rebelling against the adults who made the marriage happen, though. Maybe because she’s still young, so she felt filial to them.
We finished the first week. Thanks Dear Readers who started this and added this novel to their reading list.
I really don’t understand how I just posted the first chapter, and somebody already gave 1-star. Like, did you really read the novel or just didn’t like the description? Please help me by rating this 5-star. Thanks so much! Have a good day!