The sea breeze blew gently, the window wasn't shut tightly, leaving a crack through which the sheer curtains fluttered.
She neither agreed nor disagreed, clearly extremely drowsy, on the verge of falling asleep the next second.
In her daze, Bei Yao sensed someone undressing her and softly asked, "Pei Chuan?"
He replied in a low voice, "Mm."
When their fingers intertwined, Bei Yao felt the man's palm—drenched in sweat.
Bei Yao became somewhat sober. She opened her eyes and saw a pair of dark eyes before her, reflecting her own image—three parts desire, seven parts affection. A thin layer of sweat beaded on his forehead, and his gaze was no longer entirely rational.
The man's voice was hoarse: "Is this okay?"
Alcohol emboldened her, and she nodded vaguely.
His kisses then descended upon her like a storm, and she heard the sound of him unbuckling his belt with one hand.
Bei Yao watched the fluttering curtains and asked sluggishly, "Should I cover my eyes?"
"No need."
"Oh." Then she'd look.
As she turned her head, a kiss landed on her eyelids. Bei Yao instinctively closed her eyes.
Then came some pain.
It was hard to describe, but it hurt somewhat.
It was very uncomfortable. Under normal circumstances, Bei Yao would have endured it for his sake. But now she was drunk, feeling both willful and somewhat angry. Wasn't this still not letting her see?
She squirmed restlessly.
The man held her down, growling lowly, "Yao Yao!""
She pitifully whispered, "It hurts."
Pei Chuan froze as well.
Neither of them had much experience; he wasn't much better off than she was. Though he was undoubtedly far more comfortable than she was.
Bei Yao said, "You go out first."
This was simply unreasonable.
He remained silent, not uttering a word. Before they started, it might have been negotiable, but now nothing she said would work. Pei Chuan merely panted heavily, ignoring her.
The first time ended quickly—the sensation was too unfamiliar, stimulating his tailbone tingling, beyond his control.
Afterward, Pei Chuan's expression stiffened slightly.
To make matters worse, the young girl added fuel to the fire, saying with a sob, "It's uncomfortable. I want to sleep."
She said it was uncomfortable.
No matter how insecure he might have been in the past, how could a man bear to hear such words? Pei Chuan gritted his teeth and pleaded, "Let's try again, okay?"
Bei Yao refused.
Sweat covered his forehead. He pressed his lips together, paused, and then kissed her again.
Amid the fluttering sheer curtains.
Later, she too experienced some unfamiliar sensations—novel, yet not entirely unpleasant.
Like light bursting before her eyes, she lost all sense of time.
In a daze, she heard a very, very soft "I love you."
Pei Chuan woke up very early—or rather, he hadn't slept all night.
Excited at first, and excited later.
Perhaps because the first time felt like a failure, the time spent redeeming himself afterward became excessively long, coaxing her into saying many things.
Early in the morning, as soon as the sky brightened, he realized something was wrong.
Bei Yao's body felt feverish, her cheeks flushed red. Pei Chuan touched her forehead—it was much hotter than his own temperature.
Pei Chuan didn't bother washing up and hurriedly called for a doctor.
A blonde, blue-eyed female doctor came to examine Bei Yao, who was still feverish and unconscious.
The foreign doctor smiled meaningfully: "Had a good time last night?"" She spoke in English, but Pei Chuan, being a top student, had no language barrier communicating with her.
Pei Chuan, usually aloof and steady, blushed for the first time in front of a stranger, the redness spreading down to his neck.
The female doctor whistled lightly: "No need to be so nervous. Your wife is suffering from acclimatization. She also ate seafood last night and is having an allergic reaction."The doctor lifted the blanket to reveal Bei Yao lying on the bed with her long eyelashes resting shut. After examining her arm, the doctor remarked, "She has an allergic rash."
On her fair, delicate arm, the rash was barely noticeable, but a large patch of love bites stood out prominently.
The doctor chuckled mercilessly.
Pei Chuan strained to maintain his composure. "My wife has a fever."
"Ah, right, the fever—that's on you. Do you understand the importance of cleaning her up after intimacy? You lacked restraint and didn't take care of her afterward. Considering that, her current state is actually quite mild."
Pei Chuan's face flushed and paled in rapid succession, a clear sign of his distress. This was something he genuinely hadn't known, and now he was so filled with regret he couldn't even speak.
Seeing his miserable state, the doctor shot a teasing glance at the handsome Chinese man's trousers, almost tempted to whistle. But the sight of the delicate beauty suffering was also pitiable. The doctor asked, "Should I clean her up, or will you do it?"
"I will," Pei Chuan replied.
"Alright, then you handle it. I'll prescribe some Anti-inflammatory medication. Don't worry, it's not as severe as your heartache suggests. It's just that fever from acclimatization tends to recur. If she doesn't improve here in our country, I suggest you take her back home."
Bei Yao woke up groggily around noon, her breathing heavy and labored.
Pei Chuan was right beside her, not having blinked an eye. Seeing her awake, he quickly said, "I asked the hotel to keep some warm congee. How about eating a little first?"
Bei Yao knew she had a fever—every breath felt scorching hot.
Slowly, fragments of the previous night came back to her, and her cheeks gradually reddened, though the fever masked the blush. She didn't blame Pei Chuan; after all, it was a normal part of married life. It was just that the local environment didn't seem to agree with her constitution.
After Pei Chuan finished feeding her, Bei Yao sat in a rattan chair gazing at the sea below.
The ocean stretched endlessly, but she felt listless and envious of the view. The scene twisted Pei Chuan's heart as if it were roasting over flames, and he was ready to promise her anything. "Once you're feeling better, how about we go surfing?"
Bei Yao reached up to touch his face. "It's fine, I don't need to go. I'll stay here with you."
His heart ached with a bittersweet ache as he grasped her hand. "It's all my fault."
Pei Chuan took meticulous care of her, avoiding foreign foods and hiring a chef from their home country to prepare varied meals for her. Yet, as the doctor had predicted, Bei Yao's fever fluctuated over the following days.
Unable to wait for her full recovery, Pei Chuan had no choice but to cut their trip short and return home with Bei Yao. He didn't even have the mind to worry about Huo Xu and Jiang Huaqiong stirring up trouble back home—for Pei Chuan, the only panic he truly felt was what Bei Yao could evoke in him.
Returning home, Bei Yao felt a tinge of embarrassment. They had taken a long leave for their honeymoon, only to end up with her falling ill after just one night, forcing an early return.
After disembarking, Pei Chuan took her directly back to C City. After all, it was their hometown—the most nurturing place for those accustomed to living abroad.
Pei Chuan had previously bought an apartment here. The Bei family home was now empty, as Zhao Zhilan and Bei Licai no longer lived there. The house had been unattended for a long time, and when Bei Yao expressed a desire to visit, Pei Chuan said, "Let me clean it up first. Once it's tidy, you can go home."
He didn't hire a cleaner. Instead, he had Bei Yao rest at the apartment while he returned to the old neighborhood, rolling up his sleeves to clean for her.
The old neighborhood remained just as it had been in the past.
Using the key Bei Yao had given him, Pei Chuan unlocked the door to the Bei family home, his gaze subtly tightening as he stepped inside.The Pei residence had been visited by someone, and though it was no longer inhabited, a thin layer of dust had settled. While the rest of the house remained largely untouched, Bei Yao’s room had been disturbed.
Her former bedroom was in disarray, the sheets on the bed rumpled as if someone had slept there overnight. Given Zhao Zhilan’s deep affection for her daughter, it was unthinkable that the family would have left Bei Yao’s room in such a state when they moved out of the old house. Pei Chuan, with his sharp intuition, immediately grasped what had happened.
Despite his usual composure, Pei Chuan trembled with rage, his fists clenching involuntarily.
The rest of the Pei residence remained undisturbed, and no valuables were missing—only the belongings of his delicate wife had been rifled through.
Suppressing his fury, Pei Chuan called Bei Yao. "Was there anything important in your room?" he asked.
Bei Yao, caught off guard by the call, replied, "What’s wrong? There wasn’t anything valuable."
Not wanting to upset her with the unsettling news, Pei Chuan kept his tone light despite the storm of emotions inside him. "It’s nothing, I was just asking. What would you like for dinner? I’ll cook when I get back."
After hanging up, Bei Yao suddenly remembered something critical.
She quickly called Pei Chuan back. "What are you doing right now?" she asked.
"Tidying up your room."
A chill ran down Bei Yao’s spine. "Can you please not clean my room?" she pleaded.
"Why?"
She recalled the long-forgotten notebook containing the secret of her rebirth and hurriedly said, "Come back home. I don’t feel like staying there lately—I’m not feeling well."
There was no way she could let Pei Chuan see that notebook. Though she trusted his respect for her privacy enough to know he wouldn’t force open the locked box.
Hearing she was unwell, Pei Chuan said, "I’ll be right back."
Before leaving, however, he gathered the bedsheets and blankets from her room and took them downstairs to discard. It took every ounce of his self-control not to immediately hunt down Huo Xu and end him.
In early June, the biggest news in City B was the complete collapse of the century-old Huo family.
Two major shareholders had sold off their stakes in a rushed cash-out, turning the downfall of a century-old legacy into what seemed like a farce.
In a mountainous villa in City C, Huo Xu looked down at the woman kneeling on the ground, her hands bound behind her back. He lifted her chin with the tip of his leather shoe, taking in her disheveled appearance.
Shao Yue’s face was bruised and swollen, one of her teeth knocked out.
She trembled uncontrollably—Huo Xu had lost his mind.
At the end of May, she had nearly escaped, but he had caught her. That night, he had her tied up, sneering, "Weren’t you the one who promised to stay with me forever? The Huo family hasn’t even fallen yet, and you’ve already fled. Is this what Shao Yue’s love looks like?"
Shao Yue had forced a weak smile. "Huo Xu, please listen to me—"
He slapped her across the face. "No need to explain. Just stay by my side."
Shao Yue knew he had been driven mad by the circumstances and that reasoning with him was futile.
In desperation, she made one last plea. "Let’s leave together, okay? Jiang Huaqiong won’t let you go. The Huo family can’t hold on much longer. She spent years building her influence here—most of the people are loyal to her. If we escape together, we might still have a chance."
For a moment, Huo Xu seemed swayed by her words. He sold his shares and liquidated his assets, even taking valuable items from the Huo estate. It appeared he had no intention of confronting Jiang Huaqiong head-on. Just as Shao Yue began to feel a glimmer of hope, Huo Xu bound her with a rope.
Shao Yue screamed, "What are you doing?""What are you doing? If it weren't for you, this wretched woman, would our Huo family have fallen to such a state? Rest assured, if I live one more day, you'll suffer one more day. If I die, you'll join me down there."
He was originally supposed to go abroad, but Huo Xu, driven by some inexplicable madness, went to the Bei family in City C before leaving and didn't return all night.
When he came back, he seemed possessed—cradling a small notebook in his arms.
He appeared both tearful and laughing, both insane and frenzied.
Shao Yue was now afraid of him, shrinking into a corner.
That small notebook was the kind of grid-lined copybook children used for handwriting practice. He carefully stored it away and surprisingly didn't mention going abroad again.
Shao Yue mustered the courage to ask him, "Aren't you leaving anymore?"
They both knew perfectly well that even if they went abroad, they would live as fugitives, never knowing when Jiang Huaqiong would find and kill them. Still, there was at least a slim chance of survival. Yet after visiting the Bei family, Huo Xu no longer intended to leave!
Huo Xu crouched down in front of her. "Why should I leave? All of this should rightfully be mine. The Huo family is mine, and Bei Yao is my wife."
He let out a cold laugh. "I can't accept this. That cripple should have lived a life despised by everyone. Do you know what he was originally supposed to be?"
Shao Yue looked at him as if he were insane.
Huo Xu slapped her across the face. "He was supposed to be a sociopath! My wife has been taken away by him now. If I leave, I'll live in constant fear while he has everything. Tell me, shouldn't I be furious!"
Shao Yue trembled with terror.
Huo Xu said, "I always wondered why I liked Bei Yao from the moment I saw her. It turns out I was meant to love her from the very beginning. I just made too many mistakes, and she refused to forgive me in this lifetime, which is why she went to that cripple. Shao Yue, for the first time, I truly feel you deserve to die."
Shao Yue believed Huo Xu had lost his mind, but Huo Xu felt he had never been more clear-headed in his life.
Tormented and despondent, yet seeing reality with stark clarity.
The timeline in Bei Yao's notebook must represent her actual memories.
There was no mistake—initially, he had indeed wanted Bei Yao to replace Shao Yue, not just to protect Shao Yue but for his own benefit as well. But things changed later. Even without knowing what the notebook recorded about subsequent events, Huo Xu could guess that he would eventually fall for Bei Yao and likely regret it.
He should have left, but he refused to go.
Pei Chuan had ruthlessly schemed to ruin him like this—why should he hand over the woman he loved?
Huo Xu had long regretted his actions. Even though he had been wrong from the start, why had Bei Yao never once looked at him properly in this lifetime?
If he couldn't have her, then Pei Chuan shouldn't either.
Huo Xu glanced at Shao Yue with disgust.
He thought with grim satisfaction: if Pei Chuan ever learned that Bei Yao had initially accepted him, a cripple, out of gratitude, his expression would be priceless.
Pei Chuan must be terrified that Bei Yao didn't truly love him, right?
For someone like Pei Chuan, never truly possessing her would be utter hell.
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