Pity for her B-grade misfortune.
“Shen Muxi.”
“Don’t call me.”
Shi Youwan called her to remind her that the banquet was about to start. If she didn’t go to the hall with Old Master Shen, it would spark gossip. One to ten, ten to a hundred—tomorrow it’d be Yinzhou City’s after-dinner chatter.
But Shen Muxi was still fuming, annoyed and chaotic, uncaring why Shi Youwan called.
Her tone was sharp, and while Shi Youwan took no offense, someone else couldn’t stand her venting at Shi Youwan. That person’s eyes darkened swiftly.
Stepping sideways in front of Shen Muxi, Chi Yumo shielded Shi Youwan behind her and pulled free her hand from Shi Youwan’s grasp to gesture: [Take your anger out elsewhere. She got you out of trouble, counseled your father, and vouched for you. You’re the ungrateful one.]
Shen Muxi’s “sharp tongue” was a long-developed self-protection mechanism.
Chi Yumo had suffered from it plenty but had also witnessed Shen Muxi’s kindness many times, so she gradually got used to it.
If one day Shen Muxi’s mouth wasn’t so sharp, then she would have worried that Shen Muxi had a serious illness.
It didn’t matter how much Shen Muxi mocked or scolded her—she knew Shen Muxi had a sharp tongue but a soft heart, and loved teasing her to see her bristle.
But… she just couldn’t stand by and watch Shen Muxi repay kindness with ingratitude, making Shi Youwan suffer.
“I have no conscience?” Shen Muxi nearly choked on her breath. “If I had no conscience, would you two have the chance to hold hands and flaunt your love right here and now?”
Chi Yumo was just an ungrateful little brat that wouldn’t warm up no matter how much she fed it—and worse, it was one she’d personally handed back to Shi Youwan. Who could she blame?
She’d lifted a rock only to drop it on her own foot; the pain was hers, and she was the one caught in the middle. Not only had she failed to anger Old Master Shen and Shi Youwan, but she’d ended up fuming herself.
If she kept getting this worked up, she’d end up with mastitis.
That woman Shi Youwan was truly insane—why propose marriage to her family’s Old Master instead of her own mother?
Bending to gain leverage?
Playing the long game?
What a cunning old fox!
She was probably tricking the little brat into taking the bait!
Turning a battlefield into a proposal site—when it came to “scheming,” President Shi still had the upper hand.
And looking at Chi Yumo’s fierce protectiveness toward her wife, the day they tied the knot and invited her for wedding sweets and wine wasn’t far off.
An unintentional act had borne fruitful results.
For Shi Youwan’s determination, she’d consider it a good deed. It was fine if little Mo went along with Shi Youwan; at least she wouldn’t suffer grievances or bullying there anymore.
With more people protecting little Mo, she could free up some mindspace—the company still had so many artists to manage.
Hiding behind Chi Yumo, Shi Youwan lifted her wrist outward, pointing at the time on her watch so Shen Muxi could see it.
Shen Muxi took a deep breath, steadied herself, and forced a smile again.
Anyway, she’d been a lone wolf for so many years, doing whatever she pleased. Let them all pair up—she’d keep herself company and understand herself.
“Alright, I wasn’t venting at either of you. Sorry, President Shi, for letting you see that embarrassing display. And… would it be too early to say congrats now? Never mind, I’ll wait until I get the wedding invite. When you two get married, remember to toast this great matchmaker a few extra cups.”
Better to tear down ten temples than ruin one marriage. Helping a perfect couple get together was accumulating merit and blessings for herself too. “I’ll head downstairs first. You two shouldn’t stay out too late—after all, the Shi Family is half the host today.”
She bit down hard on “Shi Family.” With that, she left the pair behind and walked away.
With one less person in the room, Chi Yumo’s ears finally had some peace, but the heat at her ear tips hadn’t faded yet.
Hold hands and flaunt love? She hadn’t! Even if she had, it was forced, not willing. She and Shi Youwan… weren’t even lovers. What love was there to flaunt?
“Xiao Mo.”
The sudden call made Chi Yumo’s figure sway slightly, inexplicably tense. The moment Shi Youwan’s fingertip brushed the back of her hand, she yanked it away like a startled bird.
Watching Chi Yumo leap two or three steps away at a mere touch, Shi Youwan smiled bitterly to herself. But a reaction was better than none—at least it meant Xiao Mo had taken her words to heart.
“Xiao Mo,” she didn’t press closer, speaking from a distance, “Everything I said earlier was from the heart. Now it’s my turn to ask: will you consider it?”
Consider what?
Marriage?
Jumping from a lovers’ contract to registering for a license was too big a leap.
The nature of it was completely different.
But she couldn’t deny that Chi Yumo’s heart wavered, leaped with joy, and urged her to answer—I do.
If only this moment had happened a year ago, before their “it’s over.”
“Your household registry is with me.”
Right—Chi Yumo had left the original household registry booklet with her last year.
Shi Youwan had moved her household registration to the Old House, and leaving the booklet was a clear statement: she didn’t want anything Shi Youwan had given her, including that house—everything was up to Shi Youwan to dispose of.
Now things had turned around…
Getting the booklet back or not—either way, it was awkward.
“Xiao Mo.”
Unable to hold back, Shi Youwan took two steps toward Chi Yumo. “Marry me, and everything I have is yours. After marriage, you can keep doing what you want—modeling, charity work, even entering the entertainment industry. I won’t stand in your way. As for our wedding, if you want to go public, we will. If not, we won’t. It’s all up to you.”
Chi Yumo was stunned again.
A flicker of secret delight.
Along with the embarrassment and shyness of being cornered into marriage.
She’d seen Shi Youwan’s profound depths, her gentle elegance— she’d liked every side of her before.
But this obsessive side, a bit domineering, a bit unreasonable, almost deranged—she wasn’t used to it.
In the silence, the surroundings felt oppressively stuffy. She lowered her gaze to the tip of Shi Youwan’s high heel, then up to her jade-white instep.
One foot lifted silently, then the other, closing the distance between their toes to zero. Shi Youwan’s hands gripped her shoulders.
Her breath was light, like butterfly wings brushing her chin. But in truth, each flutter of those wings was a hurricane, domineeringly sweeping her into a vortex of love.
“This afternoon…”
Chi Yumo snapped back like from a dream, tilting her head away and grabbing Shi Youwan’s arm to pull apart.
Was this person trying the same trick again, like at the hotel, using a kiss to force compliance? Was she that easy to coax, trick, and control?
Shi Youwan kissed empty air, gazing at the steadfast Alpha before her with eyes full of grievance. She reflected—had she not offered enough? Not even a kiss?
But that morning, she’d gotten kisses without giving anything, and more than once.
She couldn’t see through Xiao Mo’s guarded heart, only stealing bits of affection from forced kisses.
To prove she wasn’t performing a solo act.
Though Xiao Mo’s “lovers’ contract” proposal last night had heartbroken her to the point of dissociation, afterward, under her teasing, Xiao Mo had blushed, her ears heated, shy—these signs showed Xiao Mo felt something for her.
Steadying her emotions with a huff, Chi Yumo typed: [President Shi, you should head back to the banquet hall soon too. Don’t keep your family waiting. I’ll sit a bit longer before leaving.]
What afternoon? It was Sunday— the Civil Affairs Bureau wasn’t open.
Even with the household registry, they couldn’t register!
But Shi Youwan hadn’t decided yet whether to bring Chi Yumo back to the banquet hall.
Not bringing her might make Xiao Mo think the proposal was just empty words, not serious. Bringing her might draw strange looks and snide remarks from the crowd, making Xiao Mo suffer needlessly.
Chi Yumo suddenly walked a few steps sideways, to the single sofa where Shen Muxi had sat earlier, keeping distance from Shi Youwan.
Shi Youwan looked up—just then, the door was pushed open.
In came Shi Youran.
“Sis, are you done talking?” Shi Youran hadn’t knocked on purpose, but she didn’t see what she’d hoped for.
After Shi Youwan and the others followed Old Master Shen out of the banquet hall, she’d felt something was off. She checked “Mo Yu” on her phone and found articles about Mo Yu competing in Lan Wei early in the month but withdrawing due to her Susceptible Period.
The modeling contest was niche, the international main stage in Lan Wei, and the few Chinese participants hadn’t placed in the top three, so it hadn’t made waves.
Unless specifically searching, most wouldn’t notice.
Overlaying Shi Youwan’s recent itinerary with Mo Yu’s, plus the weirdness between Shi Youwan and Shen Muxi, linking to Chi Yumo’s pre-debut days in Yinzhou City—Shi Youran suddenly understood.
The timelines matched perfectly, and Shi Youwan’s frequent trips to Lingjiang made sense.
Mo Yu was Shi Youwan’s little lover she’d searched for a year.
“Mm. Why are you here?”
“To invite you to take your seats.”
Answering Shi Youwan, Shi Youran’s eyes fixed on Chi Yumo, trying to match her with the vague figure in her mind.
At the charity night, Mo Yu’s glamorous makeup had been too different from that disheveled little lover—she hadn’t recognized her at all.
Now, with black hair, black outfit, and that expression—three parts aloof, three parts distant, three parts indifferent—it matched that night perfectly.
Seeing her sister approach Chi Yumo, Shi Youwan followed. “Youran.”
“Mo Yu,” Shi Youran stopped right in front of Chi Yumo, “Our first encounter was probably earlier than the charity night, right?”
Chi Yumo pressed her thin lips into a line, neither nodding nor shaking her head, meeting Shi Youran’s scrutiny levelly.
She left the answer to Shi Youwan.
Whatever Shi Youwan said, she’d go with it.
Shi Youran’s probing gaze sharpened like a blade, then she narrowed her eyes, speaking before Shi Youwan. “Can’t talk? Or… don’t want to?”
The person her sister liked— as her sister, she had a duty to uncover the truth.
What if she was faking muteness for sympathy? She didn’t want her sister duped, losing money and heart.
“Shi Youran, shut your mouth.”
Reprimanded sharply by her sister, Shi Youran pouted like flipping a switch, hooked Shi Youwan’s arm, and whined toughly on the outside but weakly within: “Sis, you’re biased. Do this, and I’ll get jealous.”
Chi Yumo’s pupils contracted slightly. This one’s an accomplished “actor” too—probably on par with Shen Muxi.
She knew Shi Youran and Yin Man by name, not person.
Shi Youwan sighed softly, meeting Chi Yumo’s dim, lightless eyes—the confidence she’d just ignited plummeted again.
She truly didn’t know what to do.
Didn’t know how to make Xiao Mo happy, regain her vibrancy, trust her, love her, rely on her.
Watching her lovestruck sister, recalling how sickly she’d been after losing her soul to the little lover, Shi Youran sighed inwardly too, belatedly afraid.
A living person wouldn’t run—treat with courtesy first, then investigate.
“Alright, stop standing around.”
She shifted tone and expression, flashing a guest-welcoming smile. “Mo Yu, come with us. Otherwise, if rumors spread from hearsay, people might think the Shen Family used dirty tricks like threats or bribes to make you vanish.”
“No need to force it.” Shi Youwan left it to Chi Yumo. “Want to go?”
Shi Youran had a point.
Since the “misunderstanding” with Old Master Shen was cleared, she should resume her place by Shen Muxi’s side, accompanying her boss in socializing like at the charity night.
Thus, Chi Yumo nodded understandingly.
