5 The Joy of Bullying a Doll
Sang Ran came downstairs, her pink dress trailing just past her ankles, slightly wavy hair falling to her waist. Her face was clean and pretty, with black eyes that seemed to hold countless stars within them. Her nose was small and delicate, and her pink lips were slightly pursed.
Fu Chenyan propped his forehead on one hand, watching the girl before him. No matter how he looked at her, she seemed like… a doll?
But why did that term feel so familiar?
It was as if he had called her that before.
“Your hair…”
Sang Ran reached out and casually tousled her hair. Without her brother around, there was no one to comb it for her.
Fu Chenyan: “…”
Sang Ran sat down across from Fu Chenyan because she didn’t want to be anywhere near this horrible man.
“Eat. What do you like?”
Sang Ran looked at the breakfast on the table—honey-fried dumplings, snowflake beef, and crystal buns. But none of these were what she liked, so the girl pouted.
Fu Chenyan lifted his eyelids indifferently. Sang Ran’s emotions were far too easy to read; one glance told him everything about her mood.
“Don’t like it?”
Sang Ran propped her chin on her hand, looking at the things on the table. “Mm, can I still have some of last night’s cake?”
The pretty girl wore a smile on her face, her eyes blinking with pleading, making it impossible for anyone to refuse her any request.
For a moment, Fu Chenyan actually couldn’t bear it—couldn’t bear to refuse this beautiful little doll.
After a moment, he finally said in a slow voice, “It wasn’t prepared this morning.”
Hearing this, Sang Ran deflated like a little rubber ball, letting out a soft sigh. “Fine.”
But soon, Fu Chenyan spoke again, “I’ll be back at noon. I can have a little cake prepared for you.”
“Thank you, husband.”
Husband…
Her voice carried a light trailing tone, brushing against Fu Chenyan’s heart like a feather. He sensed something unusual in himself, furrowed his brows slightly, and took a casual bite of food to calm down.
Sang Ran picked up her chopsticks and tried several times to pick up a crystal bun without success. Her cheeks puffed up in frustration, and she threw the chopsticks on the ground with a crisp clatter.
Fu Chenyan: “…”
Not only was this woman clumsy, but she had such a temper too…
The servant nearby immediately picked up the chopsticks, not daring to provoke this young mistress. Her temper seemed quite explosive.
In the end, Fu Chenyan swapped his doll’s chopsticks for a fork, and Sang Ran finally got food into her mouth. But the moment she bit into the bun, her eyes welled up with tears and she covered her mouth.
“Mm…”
It was too hot…
Fu Chenyan had never seen anyone so clumsy. He got up, fetched a glass of milk, and placed it in Sang Ran’s hands. “Drink it yourself, or do you want me to feed you?”
Sang Ran hugged the milk and took two sips, the pain in her mouth no longer as intense.
“At home, Daddy always let these things cool to room temperature before giving them to me. Why is your bun so hot?”
Tears hung in the girl’s eyes as she looked at Fu Chenyan with a face full of grievance.
Fu Chenyan closed his eyes. Other men married virtuous wives; he had truly married a little ancestor…
“Can’t you blow on it before eating? You’re this old and you still don’t know how to eat?”
Fu Chenyan lowered his voice, trying his best not to look so angry.
“It’s because your bun is too hot. I don’t want to eat anymore.”
Sang Ran put down her fork, turned her face to the side, her lashes fluttering as tears fell once more, clinging to her soft cheeks.
Fu Chenyan pinched the bridge of his nose with his long, slender fingers. The veins on his forehead were already bulging, as if he was suppressing something.
After a moment, he lowered his hand and walked over to Sang Ran. Sang Ran watched that gloomy face approach, her body gradually retreating until she was pressed against the back of her chair.
“I’ll pay attention next time. I’ll have them let the buns cool before giving them to you. Can you stop crying now?”
Fu Chenyan roughly wiped the tears from Sang Ran’s face. Sang Ran pushed his large hand away and pouted again.
“What now?”
His voice remained cold.
Sang Ran rubbed her eyes. “You hurt my face.”
Fu Chenyan: “…”
“Fine. I won’t touch your face anymore. Can you stop crying now? Can you continue eating?”
He had promised Grandfather he would take good care of this doll. If she starved and got too thin… the people of the Sang family would absolutely not let this go.
Fu Chenyan stood up irritably and tugged at his tie. It had been a long time since anything had troubled him this much.
How to take care of a wife.
Sang Ran picked up her fork and continued eating. Fu Chenyan picked up a crystal bun, blew on it, and placed it on the girl’s plate.
“It’s cool now. Eat.”
His cold voice was still like ice and snow.
Sang Ran pouted. Though reluctant, she was still very afraid of this man. She bent over her plate and ate, looking like a little hamster as she did.
Fu Chenyan watched those soft, pink cheeks and wanted to pinch them. The texture seemed like it would be quite nice—he had tried it yesterday.
But thinking of this doll’s tears, he decided against it. Pinch her face once, and she might cry for half a day.
“I’m full.”
Sang Ran put down her fork and sat there obediently, looking like a beautiful doll when she wasn’t crying.
Fu Chenyan’s brows furrowed slightly. “Three crystal buns and a sip of milk, and you’re full?”
“Mhm.”
Fu Chenyan picked up another crystal bun from the plate with his chopsticks—the skin was so thin that the shrimp filling inside was faintly visible—and placed it in Sang Ran’s bowl.
“Eat one more.”
Sang Ran wanted to refuse, but when she saw Fu Chenyan’s cold, dark eyes, she nodded instead.
She ate very slowly, taking a small bite and chewing gently.
Fu Chenyan simply watched her eat in silence, bit by bit, her pink lips opening and closing as she took another bite.
It took her a full two minutes to finish one bun.
It was the first time Fu Chenyan had ever seen someone eat so slowly, but strangely, he didn’t seem to mind.
“I’m full.”
“Eat one more.”
Fu Chenyan picked up a honey-steamed dumpling with his chopsticks.
Sang Ran stared at the dumpling in her bowl as if it were something terrifying, mumbling quietly, “But… I… really am full.”
“What?”
Fu Chenyan lifted his eyes, his gaze icy to the bone, especially when his brows knitted slightly. Sang Ran shrank her neck in fright and lowered her head to keep eating.
A faint chuckle drifted to her ears. Sang Ran puffed up her cheeks and looked up, meeting those cold eyes again. She didn’t dare to be angry, so she could only take a fierce bite of the fried dumpling, as if she were biting Fu Chenyan himself.