Chapter 88

[Raising the Child Extra 3 · The Mark]

When Wu Yuxi, who had just been promoted to little aunt, learned the little princess’s name—

she was instantly filled with a surge of creative inspiration.

Taking advantage of Qin Yan being on a business trip and unable to keep an eye on her, she stayed up all night and created a new piece.

Aurora Super Topic.

Little Watermelon gaga: The glaciers melting doesn’t mean the end of the world, it’s the blazing sun burning, and blossoms surpass brocade. image.jpg

On top of the glacier, clusters of flowers bloomed like exquisite brocade.

Brilliant and dazzling.

Full of vitality.

The entire painting had no people; it was like an ethereal, supremely beautiful landscape.

However, early CP fans in the Aurora super-topic went through this — the era when Gibberish-kun generated content!

In an instant, I grasped the profound symbolism of the painting.

“Ahhhh! Has the little divine baby of the god and the fairy been born?!!”

“Teacher Little Watermelon’s painting skills have only improved after marriage—she can even create such deeply symbolic works now.”

“Teacher Little Watermelon: feeling offended”

“‘The glacier melting isn’t the end of the world, it’s the blazing sun, and flowers flourishing like brocade’ — boohoo Xiao Watermelon, if you’re going to say it, say more!”

“Sisters, don’t interrupt… the point is she gave birth!!!”

“@XiaoWatermelonWaaa @RuanQizhuo You’re my only two connections in that circle, go to the deity’s house and livestream it for us!”

“Hahaha how daring! I want to see too (whisper)”

“……”

Of course, a live broadcast was out of the question.

The security at the He family’s old residence had been increased a hundredfold; let alone people, even a mosquito that flew in would be interrogated.

It was only on He Jinyao’s hundredth day that she finally saw outsiders.

This was a rule passed down in the He family.

When a child turned three, there was another custom.

This

custom also solved the long-standing question Qin Mang had been puzzled by: how did the cluster of red spider lilies on He Lingji’s back come to be?

It was the mark of the He family’s future heir, and the family crest that had continued for centuries.

The woman is a red spider lily; the man is a black spider lily.

At three years old, the elders who guard the ancestral shrine use a special inherited technique to brand the child; it becomes like a birthmark, never fading, never disappearing.

The position of the brand is chosen by the child.

Everyone was shocked by the spot chosen by the next-generation heir, little He Jinyao.

For more details, please refer to the series — “On the Hook”

[Side Story 4: Little Cotton Jacket]

He was educated early, but kindergarten enrollment followed the normal age, and there was no special treatment.

The little one had been pampered; by three years old she hadn’t suffered so much as a scraped knee. She’d never known what pain felt like.

Originally Qin Mang had worried that she would cry terribly the first time she left her family to go to school.

Who would have thought—

She did cry, but not because she didn’t want to go to school.

3:30 in the afternoon.

Little He Jinyao, wearing a cute little white lion backpack, was dismissed from school.

“Daddy!”

Although He Jinyao isn’t shy around strangers, this was her first time leaving home alone, and when she saw her father, she couldn’t have been more affectionate.

Qin Mang had engagements today, so He Lingji went to pick her up himself.

Tall, long-legged, noble-looking man gently bent down and lifted his little princess, only to notice a bandage had been placed on the pale back of her hand.

The expression on his handsome face instantly hardened, radiating an intense pressure.

“Child He Jinyao accidentally got a little cut on the edge of the slide.”

The teacher reacted quickly and hastened to explain, “It’s been taken care of, it’s nothing…”

“No big deal.”

He Lingji did not answer.

After checking personally, there was indeed only a very shallow red scrape, but He Jinyao’s skin was delicate, so even a tiny wound looked severe.

He Lingji lowered his eyes and asked, “Does it hurt, baby?”

He Jinyao, in a babyish voice, said, “It hurt a lot at first, but after Teacher shh-shh it didn’t hurt anymore.”

It’s normal for little kids to have bumps and bruises.

He Lingji didn’t take his anger out on the teacher; instead, that very day he had every playground toy in the city’s top kindergarten replaced with safer ones.

On the way home, the top medical team of the He family was urgently summoned and waited in the living room.

The medical team still thought that the He family’s precious little princess had suffered some serious injury.

But when they saw the wound,

they all fell silent.

The last time I was this speechless was when I ran thousands of miles to treat Mrs. He’s wounds.

..

Because He Jinyao got hurt at kindergarten, she finally knew what pain felt like.

That day, she happened to see the patch of scar on He Lingji’s calf. The little girl had her own logic: even a tiny scrape hurt her a lot, so with a scar that big on Daddy, it must hurt terribly.

He Jinyao cried big tears, puckered her little mouth, and tried to blow on him: “Baby will blow for Daddy, then it won’t hurt anymore.”

He Jinyao inherited Qin Mang’s beautifully expressive eyes. Because she was still very young, they looked round, glossy, and watery—adorable and cute. At birth, their iris color was very similar to He Lingji’s.

By the time she turned three, the blue deepened somewhat, then eventually nearly vanished.

However, if you looked closely at the shifting pupils, there seemed to be an extremely faint blue—especially when she cried, the blue hidden deep within her pupils became more noticeable, like a pearl concealed in the depths of an indigo ocean.

At such a young age, she already displayed a mysterious beauty unlike that of ordinary children.

Qin Mang had never seen He Lingji cry. Now his daughter’s eyes resembled his—every time he watched her weep, it felt like watching He Lingji cry.

Be sure to record it on your phone.

Although He Lingji felt sorry for his daughter, he still took out his phone first and recorded a short video, then sent it to Mrs. He.

Only then did he soothe his little sweetheart: “It doesn’t hurt, this is Daddy’s proudest medal.”

The little princess didn’t understand.

But because Daddy said it didn’t hurt, her tears stopped.

It took a long time, but he finally managed to lull the little princess to sleep.

He wiped her tear-dampened face with a soft, warm towel.

Late at night, everything was quiet.

He Lingji posted a new update on his Moments, which he used even less than Weibo.

He Lingji: [My little quilt is so cute.]

Ruan Qizhuo: [Bro, did your account get hacked?]

A certain person released from the blacklist left a comment—

Rong Huaiyan: [In-law, have time to arrange a betrothal for our kids?]

He Lǐngjì replied to Rong Huaiyan: [Not available.]

Xie Yanli replied to Rong Huaiyan: [In-law, when you have time, will you sign the engagement papers?]

Rong Huaiyan replied to Xie Yanli: [No time.]

Ruan Qizhuo, who was watching the scene, laughed so hard late at night that he crowed like a rooster.

Hahaha giggle giggle

As someone with connections in the entertainment circle and fans all over the internet, Ruan Qizhuo, believing it’s better to share joy than keep it to himself, took a screenshot and reposted it on Weibo.

He Jinyao was very well protected.

The netizens and fans had been eagerly awaiting from the very beginning, and now—three years!!!

At long last, they finally received a scrap of news about the little He family princess!

How could they not be excited.

Besides #He Family Little Princess#, another unexpected entry—#betrothal gifts#—also trended.

Qin Mang, who was far away on set, had just finished a late-night scene.

Atong handed him the phone with a doting auntie’s smile. “The little princess is trending.”

“Hmm?”

Qin Mang took the phone doubtfully

and scrolled through it. These past few days the child should have been with He Lingji himself—he always protected the baby very well. How could this end up trending?

The next moment.

He tapped to open it and saw a screenshot of a Moments post by Ruan Qizhuo under the entry. The worry on Qin Mang’s face turned into a light laugh.

Male competitiveness.

Becoming more and more childish.

So far, it looks like the daughter has been raised delicate and is a face-conscious kid who can’t stand the slightest grievance; the chance she’ll grow into someone who runs off with a penniless lover is zero.

So Qin Mang decided to be an enlightened, fairy-like mom.

On one condition: she must not inherit He Lingji’s love-obsessed brain.

Next time she’ll take her up to Qianfo Temple mountain to dig wild vegetables and start the lessons early.

Later.

Little Jin Yao dug wild greens for the first time, brimming with excitement.

She nearly dug up the tulips Qin Han had planted bulb by bulb.

Qin Mang couldn’t even get a reaction out of Qin Han, whose spirits were already as dead as stone.

Her daughter did it.

Qin Han stepped forward, took He Jinyao’s little shovel, and led her to the nearby basin to wash her hands. His cool, clear voice rang out like it came from the horizon: “This is Grandma’s—you’re not allowed to dig.”

Little Jin Yao stared in surprise, her big round eyes widening. “Wow~”

Childlike words: “I have so many grandmothers.”

“……”

Qin Mang looked at the mountains and valleys full of tulips—wasn’t that so.

Qin Han didn’t get angry; he patiently corrected her, “You only have one grandmother.”

Although little He Jinyao nodded, she looked half-understanding and half-confused.

But from then on, whenever she saw a tulip, she called for Grandma.

No matter how Qin Mang and He Lingji tried to correct her, they couldn’t.

In the end He Lingji said, “Record it—use it as material for her coming-of-age banquet.”

Qin Mang said softly, “President He, you truly are a benevolent father.”

He Lingji naturally inclined his head and agreed

“Mm.”

Qin Mang: I’m not complimenting you!

*

As the top aristocratic kindergarten in Deep City, all kinds of large and small events emerged one after another.

Mm, it occasionally tests the parents’ DIY skills.

For example, recently He Jinyao’s kindergarten is holding a little craft market, and each parent has to put something handmade up for “sale” at the school.

Qin Mang’s crafting skills…

Were limited to drawing design sketches.

Coincidentally, He Lingji was on a business trip, so this time the handiwork fell to Qin Mang, who had just finished filming and returned home on break.

He made a very misshapen little lion plush; Qin Mang compared it to the little white lion plush He Lingji had given him back then.

He asked little He Jinyao, “Pretty?”

Little He gave an affirmative answer: “Pretty!”

“Mom is awesome!”

Originally Qin Mang thought her ears stuck out and her eyes were uneven, but praised by her daughter she became blindly confident, and the more she looked the more she felt her first handmade work was quite a success.

Take a photo and send it to He Lingji.

Little Lion Aowu Meow: [Doesn’t it look like the one you gave me? I made it myself!]

Looking at that handmade little lion plush with a crooked ear, crooked eyes, and a crooked mouth.

Having just finished the meeting, He Lingji didn’t hesitate to type a line: [It does. Mrs. He, you’re amazing.]

Telling boldfaced lies to make his wife happy had already become second nature.

The next day, Qin Mang confidently led his daughter to school to take part in the little event.

Almost all the families who could afford this school were well-known wealthy households in the city, so Qin Mang wouldn’t attract any fan attention here.

You actually run into quite a few people at high-society banquets.

Qin Mang arrived full of confidence; as dusk approached, her little lion remained unclaimed.

She finally removed the filter and looked at this

doll.

Compared to the exquisite handicrafts of the other parents, which looked like works of art, the little lion did seem rather simple.

Qin Mang felt a bit down.

He also felt somewhat guilty toward his daughter.

The carefree little princess was playing with other children in the distance.

Just then, Qin Mang’s phone rang.

It was the director’s call.

Qin Mang asked a nearby parent to help watch her booth for a moment.

Then she went to a quiet place to take a work call.

About fifteen minutes later.

Qin Mang returned to the stall.

It was already empty.

A flash of surprise crossed her eyes.

“It was bought by a super handsome parent,” the parent helping at the stall explained with a beaming smile.

Hand her a hundred-yuan banknote as well.

Qin Mang’s eyes lit up for a moment, her beautiful pupils sparkling: “Wow, he really is handsome and kind-hearted.”

Her sense of aesthetics was just a bit odd.

Why buy such an ugly little doll home?

Still the patsy.

One hundred bucks can buy so many delicate little dolls.

Thinking of that handsome, icy man who had just come over, and having told them not to reveal anything.

The parent nodded, trying not to laugh: “That’s right.”

In short, the little handmade craft sold successfully!

Qin Mang decided to celebrate properly with her precious daughter.

Even more surprising.

When the mother and daughter walked out of the kindergarten hand in hand, each holding the giant lollipop a parent had gifted them.

The clouds on the horizon seemed edged with a layer of golden-red lace, as if seared by flames; the setting sun hid within them, a sight of overwhelming beauty.

The man standing by the roadside cut a tall, upright figure, clad in a neatly tailored, dignified suit, patiently waiting for them to come out.

One large, one small, eyes of the same shape flashed the same surprise.

“Husband!”

“Daddy!”

He Lingji’s cold eyes held a faint smile as he first scooped the princess who had leapt at him into his arms

then bent down and picked up their little princess.

Qin Mang flaunted the pink banknotes.

“I made money with my crafts!”

He Lingji opened the car door and chuckled softly, “Celebrate a bit?”

“Good!”

Qin Mang nodded happily.

Of course, in the end she didn’t pay the hundred yuan—He Lingji covered it.

Qin Mang put the hundred yuan into her private collection room.

Worth remembering.

A few years later, one day Qin Mang happened to pull from He Lingji’s office drawer that crooked, handcrafted doll—almost forgotten by memory—and only then did everything click into place.

There has never been any so-called aesthetic “sucker.”

Only He Lingji.

*

Lately Qin Mang has gotten obsessed with doing her nails and bought a whole set of manicure tools, but it’s inconvenient for her to do them herself.

Qin Mang glanced over and saw He Lingji sitting on the terrace reading a book.

He lengthened his tone: “Honey~”

“Come over and help, please?”

At first He Lingji didn’t know Qin Mang was asking him to help paint this.

Qin Mang held up the nail polish she had already chosen and handed it to He Lingji.

She held out her pale wrist. “Paint my nails.”

He Lingji was silent for a moment.

Qin Mang’s hand went numb from holding it up. “Something this small—my husband won’t even help?”

Half a minute later.

The man’s long, sensually cool fingers pinched the pale pink nail polish, his other hand cradling the woman’s snow-white, delicate hand, eyelashes heavy and lowered, as he painted with unhurried precision.

When he finished.

Qin Mang admired Master He’s handiwork—there was not a drop out of place. She was very pleased, then pointed to the bling-bling heart-shaped diamond in the toolbox and greedily asked for an extra stone, “Look, doesn’t this diamond’s shape remind you of how I look when I love you?”

He Lingji’s gaze flicked over it, but he didn’t answer.

Qin Mang hummed softly, “You don’t love me anymore?”

“Love.”

He Lingji took the small tweezers with a calm expression and picked up a heart-shaped diamond.

That’s how a person’s bottom line is.

If you retreat one step, you have to retreat countless steps.

Under the dazzling, brilliant lights of the living room, the man’s indifferent features were now entirely serious, as if he were studying some important project.

The heart-shaped diamond had just been affixed.

The beauty-loving little Princess He had somehow wandered over: “Daddy, I want one too!”

Princess Qin, proudly: “My husband made it for me; you should have your husband make one for you in the future.”

When Qin Mang said that.

He Lingji, unusually losing his usual composure, immediately said to his daughter, “Daddy will make it for you.”

What husband? No one is worthy to be the husband of his little sweetheart!

Little Princess He didn’t understand her old father’s feelings; all she could see were pretty nails.

She reached out her chubby little hand and made a request: “Daddy, paint a little kitty on this finger.”

“On this finger, paint a little xi ji.”

He Lingji corrected, “It’s a little lion.”

He Jinyao: “Mm, little Xiji.”

Qin Mang hummed softly, propped up the unfinished little finger, and deliberately said, “I want little Xiji too!”

Got it.

Daughter not yet pacified, now I have to soothe my wife too.

He Lingji, helpless: “One at a time.”

Who would have thought that President He, who commands the business world, privately does manicures for his wife and daughter.

And he’s also highly skilled in practical techniques.

His painting wasn’t used to churn out content for fan threads, but it found another place to shine.

[Side Story 5 of Raising the Little One · A Gentle Breeze Sifts the Brocade Smile]

That night, He Lingji had a private engagement.

Who knew that usually well-behaved, early-to-bed little He Jinyao wouldn’t sleep at all tonight—clinging to his father’s leg without letting go, “Daddy.”

The butler came over

Come take He Jinyao away.

But He Lingji stopped him.

The man easily scooped the little child up with one hand: “Want to go out and play?”

He Jinyao’s eyes lit up instantly. The chubby little hands patted He Lingji’s shoulder, and, pleased, praised, “Good daddy!”

The tone and the gestures were exactly like Qin Mang’s.

It was probably from having seen the scene where Qin Mang was comforted by He Lingji—tiptoeing, patting his shoulder and praising him as a “good husband”—and now she was applying it in real life.

which made the servants in the living room all burst into suppressed laughter.

He Lingji’s thin lips also curved into a very faint arc.

President He’s good mood vanished completely when he saw the young lad beside Rong Huaiyan at the guild hall.

Young Master Rong was diligently brewing tea like a pro.

Xie Yanli and Rong Huaiyan exchanged the occasional brief comment.

Until the He father and daughter came in.

Rong Huaiyan’s clear and mellow voice carried a smile: “What a coincidence.”

He Lingji carried the little princess in and said, “What bad timing.”

Knowing that Rong Huaiyan wasn’t willing to give up on abducting their little princess, He Lingji rarely brought her to meet Young Master Rong.

So in He Jinyao’s memory, that handsome young man didn’t exist.

was looking at him with curiosity.

The child’s pair of crystal-clear eyes, in the dim light, seemed to hold a fleeting shade of blue.

She whispered to her father in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, “This big brother is so handsome.”

He Lingji covered her eyes: “…You’re so tired you’re seeing things, go to sleep.”

Rong Huayan spoke at the right moment, “Adults are talking; it’s not appropriate for children to listen. Qing Tiao, take your sister outside to play for a while.”

He Lingji hadn’t had a chance to speak when the little princess tugged at her father’s palm, “There are flowers outside, Brother, let’s go see the flowers.”

Rong QingTiao politely looked toward He Lingji, “Uncle He, may I…”

What?”

He Lingji wanted to say no, but facing his daughter’s expectant eyes, he paused for a second and said, “Go.”

The boy, nearly ten, born into a century-old family of scholars, already bore the bearing of future nobility—composed, refined, like a clear breeze under the moonlight—no one would guess he was filled with black sesame paste.

In addition to possessing the abilities expected of the future head of the Rong family, Rong Qingtiao had also studied combat and similar disciplines since childhood, so he easily picked up the delicate little girl and showed her the flowers.

He Lingji regretted it.

However, Rong Huaiyan had already stepped forward and pulled him down, “With Qing Tiao here, don’t worry.”

He Lingji replied coolly, “It’s precisely because he’s here that I’m not at ease.”

Rong Huayan personally poured him a cup of tea, then shifted the conversation, “Taste Qing Tiao’s craftsmanship — it’s no less than mine or Yan Li’s.”

He Lingji coldly watched and didn’t touch it.

I always felt Rong Gou was handing over “in-law tea.”

Rong Huayan sipped calmly, “Aren’t we good brothers? Helping my family change our genes a bit won’t be a problem, right? My wife has been eyeing your family’s blue-eye genes for a long time.”

He Lingji lifted his gray-blue eyes and, through the carved screen, looked toward the two children on the terrace. Rong Qingtiao held He Jinyao as if cradling a doll, effortlessly.

A moment later, she said softly, “Not a match.”

“Why doesn’t that match?”

“On a cold night the road stretches far, a cool breeze brushes the brocade and laughter. Even the name itself is a perfect match.”

As expected of Young Master Rong, who casually quotes poetry and songs—he immediately produced a verse containing the names of the two little ones.

He Lingji ignored him and remained expressionless: “…”

“There’s too big an age gap; it’s not a good match.”

Rong Huayan was uncharacteristically silent for a few seconds, then said, “She’s only six.”

Hege Lingji leveled the score, calm as ever

Feng Qing: “I can only accept an age difference of up to three years.”

Rong Huaiyan glanced sideways at Xie Yanli: “Second brother, tell me, is being six years older considered ‘big’?”

Xie Yanli originally came just to watch the fun, but was dragged into the fray.

The handsome man with elegant features, his pale-white knuckles wrapped in pale green Buddhist beads, was leisurely stroking a sutra and offered a solution: “Why not go find Master Yici to cast a divination?”

As everyone knew, Master Yici’s readings were extremely accurate; he had never been wrong.

Rong Huayan agreed in order to make He Lingji accept his fate.

He Lingji, in order to make Rong Huaiyan give up, also agreed.

And so.

On a certain clear and leisurely day.

The three men went together to Cibei Temple—

Um, fortune-telling.

Master Yici and Xie Yanli were friends despite their age difference, and he had once foretold a fated marriage like “Zhao Zhao Mu Mu”—

As a venerable monk who had lived over a hundred years and was deeply versed in Buddhism, he rarely intervened unless someone’s life was at stake.

Seeing that the three of them truly shared an extraordinary bond, he unusually agreed to do it.

Who would have thought—

“These two children…”

Master Yici divined for a long time, then spoke slowly, his words trailing off.

He Lingji and Rong Huaiyan’s expressions cooled slightly—

At the same time she spoke: “Is there a problem?”

At that moment, a tacit understanding passed between them.

Master Yici shook his head slightly and murmured “Amitabha,” “The fates of the two young benefactors are ever-changing.”

He Lingji: “Does that mean there’s no destiny?”

Master Yici: “Heaven’s secrets must not be revealed.”

Rong Huaiyan: “Does that mean it’s fate?”

Master Yici smiled: “The Buddha says, it cannot be spoken.”

As for whether it’s fate or not, that depends on one’s own interpretation.

He Lingji was certain: no fate.

Rong Huayan was certain: destiny decides marriage.

Elder Yici couldn’t clearly read their destinies—

There are few like them in this world, and of all people these two children’s fates were mysteriously intertwined; only if their futures held each other would their destinies resemble one another.

The Mercy Temple is for praying for children; the three of them didn’t want their wives to continue suffering childbirth, so they merely offered incense politely, asking for nothing else.

Only, before leaving, Xie Yanli took out a thin roll of red paper and handed it to the young monk who had come to see them off, joining his hands in a gesture of respect. “Thank you for your help.”

Rong Huaiyan, who had already gone ahead, saw the scene and felt an inexplicable bad premonition. His refined features tightened slightly. “What is that?”

Xie Yanli said deliberately, “Zhaozhao and Mumu’s engagement letter.”

“Please have Master Yici bless it.”

If I remember correctly, Mumu is his daughter, right?

So…

Rong Huaiyan said coolly, “Did I agree to that?”

Xie Yanli smiled, “A match made by fate, blessed by the Buddha—whether you agree or not doesn’t matter.”

He Lingji stood under the nearby bodhi tree, it was his turn to watch the spectacle; lazily he lifted his eyes: “How about the two of you have a fight?”

“……”

“……”

The sky had long since darkened, yet the Milky Way stretched ten thousand miles, sometimes swathed by thin clouds; stray light spilled down, as if casting a layer of silvery cold over the three young men, each bearing a different grace.

Below the mountain lay worldly bustle; on the mountain everything was still, save for the monastery’s chants that drifted in waves, like echoes from beyond the heavens.

Between the narrow, ancient mountain paths, a faint scent of sandalwood lingered, gradually fading away.

[Side Story · Finale]

Qin Mang’s pay was getting higher and higher. Each time she received a paycheck, most of it went toward fulfilling the promises made in the castle—

Take care of husband.

More precisely, take care of my husband’s hobbies and interests.

On Valentine’s Day.

Qin Mang attended an event to promote her new film, planning to…

After the ceremony, she surprised He Lingji.

It happened to be a festival, and also to promote the film’s on-screen couple.

Qin Mang played some small games with the male actors from the same cast.

For example, recreating some of the sweet scenes from the show.

They were filmed by viewers and uploaded to Weibo.

Handsome men and beautiful women—simply ignited the netizens’ girlish hearts.

Although Qin Mang was married, her face could still pass for that of a female college student—plump with collagen.

Has great on-screen chemistry as a couple with the newly promoted young, handsome male actor.

Plus the movie is adapted from a major IP, and the two of them perfectly recreated the original characters.

It even attracted a group of shipper fans.

Trended on hot search.

“Ahhh, Qin Mang is so beautiful and so pure, woooo, I’m totally obsessed, utterly obsessed — I hereby apologize to the gods for a month.”

“They’re such a perfect match, the pure girl and the sunny boy—absolutely perfect! Qin Mang really doesn’t look like she’s had a baby; she still has that youthful girl vibe.”

“Not only does she look youthful, her whole aura is youthful too—I’m in love!”

“…”

Originally everyone was apologizing to the deity while at the same time fangirling over the CP.

Suddenly someone popped up:

“Ahhhh family, Guiding Deity Weibo @He Lingji is jealous, he’s jealous hahahahaha!”

They reposted that fan-made CP short from the event onto the trending list.

He Lingji V: “Not worthy”

Then she posted on Weibo and tagged Qin Mang: “I’m getting jealous.”

When Qin Mang saw that Weibo post, a gleam of pleasure flickered through her shimmering eyes.

He rarely admitted things so frankly.

But now, he was becoming increasingly unguarded.

One second later.

Netizens scrolled to the new Weibo post.

Qin Mang V: Okay, go back and I’ll soothe you.

The netizens were greatly shocked.

Your family really gets along like this???

Qin Mang thought of that unforgettable birthday in the castle when He Lingji gave it to her

A surprise.

So, she had been preparing for a long time.

On Valentine’s Day, she planned to give He Lingji a surprise he would never forget.

So, the Weibo posts saying to indulge him weren’t exactly wrong.

Cong Zhen had been pre-“bought off” by Qin Mang.

That night after work, He Lingji carefully falsified his schedule, “You have another important engagement tonight.”

He Lingji casually unbuttoned his cufflinks, losing some meticulousness and gaining a touch of wild unruliness, his voice lazy and languid, “Oh?”

“Did your wife tell you to say that?”

Cong Zhen reflexively: “How did you know?!”

He Lingji coldly glared at him.

She hadn’t known before; now she did.

Cong Zhen: “…”

Sorry, madam!

The boss has too many tricks.

But He Lingji didn’t ask Qin Mang what surprise she had prepared in advance; instead, he cooperatively followed Cong Zhen to the destination.

Cong Zhen said he would absolutely never become a corporate spy in the future.

President He could see right through it at a glance.

Terrifying.

A black Pullman stopped outside the theater Qin Mang had just bought.

The exterior of this theater resembled an airplane wing, with a strong futuristic vibe—exactly the style He Lingji liked.

It was clear Qin Mang had put thought into it.

He Lingji stood alone at the theater entrance.

He slowly pushed open the main doors.

In the dim light, besides the vast stage, there was only a single seat in the audience.

As if it were reserved solely for him.

Qin Mang’s gift.

A theater all his own, and an actor belonging only to him.

At the very moment He Lingji sat down.

The once pitch-black stage transformed into an icy glacier realm.

A girl in a thin gauze dress with water-sleeves and a red skirt descended from the sky.

In the next moment, flames sprang up over the snow-white glacier, enveloping the dancing girl like a gigantic lotus of fire, and then

the glacier beneath began to freeze the fiery lotus inch by inch, shattering it across the ground while the fragments melded together.

The stage effects and the dancers’ performances were nothing short of perfect.

The dance was finished.

The lights suddenly dimmed, and the starry ceiling of the theater slowly opened.

When the first ray of dawn pierced the darkness—

The world was dazzling and magnificent, but she shone brightest of all.

Qin Mang stood on the stage and reached out toward the man below—gorgeous and cold—and asked, “May I have the honor of inviting Mr. He to spend the rest of his life with me?”

He Lingji descended the transparent, glass-like steps toward his sun, serenely and devoutly taking her fingers in his, and said slowly, “Only the rest of your life?”

In the next moment, Qin Mang crashed into those grey-blue eyes that had been looking at her from the beginning.

No trace of sharpness, cold as ice, her eyes filled only with the sun.

As if to say:

Not just the rest of my life, but forever.

[End of text]

Note:

—There aren’t that many cases of marrying first and falling in love later in this world; it’s just one person’s long-standing scheme and another’s fleeting glance.