His fingers caressed her face, stroke after stroke, so gentle. “I was too busy those days. Grandfather is coming, and I have to prepare everything.”
She pressed herself closer against him, craving connection despite knowing he wouldn’t love her, to make readers feel her deep longing and vulnerability.
“Move in with me. You have no reason to refuse me. Besides me, no one can protect you.”
She sniffled. In ancient times, they said men were heaven and earth to women. He seemed to be just that, except he didn’t love her. What was she to do?
“If you’re afraid, I won’t touch you. But you must marry me.”
He was so wicked, taking advantage of her vulnerability when she was most helpless, to evoke sympathy and highlight her emotional conflict.
“Grandfather is coming. I don’t want him to see me alone. He wants to hold a grandson.”
She listened, understanding now. It was all for this to make Grandfather happy, to give him a grandson to hold. Everything, as expected, had nothing to do with love.
“Let me…”
“You’ve been thinking for too long. I tore up that note. Wanqiu, stop struggling. Fengjian isn’t suitable for you.”
She knew the world saw women as nothing but commodities, left with humiliation, yet her heart yearned for something more-hope, love, or escape.
Just as she was lost in these chaotic thoughts, the hand on her face moved away unnoticed, and two lips descended, gently kissing her. Only then did she realize the car had stopped. All around, it was utterly quiet.
His lips and teeth softly parted hers, and her body trembled under his touch, revealing her conflicted feelings-desire mingled with fear, making the moment intensely emotional.
Amid the kiss, her hand inadvertently waved and must have touched something, because a police siren suddenly blared inside and outside the car. Zhong Wanqiu’s eyes widened in realization. No wonder the siren had sounded so quickly; it was his car.
“Naughty.” He caught her hand, and the abrupt siren ceased. Holding her in his lap, he took out two documents. “Sign them.”
She lowered her head to examine them. The top one was a marriage agreement, and beneath it, a divorce agreement. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you your freedom. I won’t bind your heart,” he whispered in her ear, like a temptation luring her into signing those two agreements.
A ballpoint pen was placed in her hand, feeling incredibly heavy. In her heart, a voice kept telling her: Sign it, and you’ll be free. From the contents of the agreements, she knew she would never want for food or clothing and could live as a wealthy woman without working.
Only, if there were a child, it would belong to him.
He was doing this to make Grandfather happy, and she could free herself from all her confusion.
Her hand trembled uncontrollably, sweat prickling her skin as she hesitated, feeling the weight of the pen and the gravity of her decision pressing down on her.
Just then, the phone rang. She hurriedly answered it, using this as an escape from her current hesitation. “Hello?” she said, having not even had time to check the caller ID before the call connected.