Chapter Fifty-One: He Was Drunk

After leaving the café, Shen Huaiqing went straight to the magazine office. Perhaps she wanted to use busy work to fill the guilt inside her toward Mu Jinghuai, or perhaps she simply wished to keep her mind occupied, so her thoughts wouldn’t run wild.

By the time she returned home, the clock had already passed midnight.

The sky was inky black, as if freshly brushed with ink; the moon hung at its zenith, its silvery light piercing through wisps of cloud and twinkling starlight, spilling softly onto the earth. Time itself seemed stuck in a silent pause, broken only by the gentle rustle of leaves in the night wind.

Aunt Feng had fallen asleep at the table, her head resting on her arm. Beside her were two bowls of century egg and lean pork congee, clearly left out for some time, the steam long since faded.

Treading softly, Shen Huaiqing approached and gently patted Aunt Feng’s shoulder, her voice low and tender. “Aunt Feng, go to your room and sleep. I don’t think Fu Chen will be coming home tonight.”

Aunt Feng mumbled sleepily, rubbing her eyes, “Young Master told me he’d come back. He asked me to prepare a late supper for you both.”

Shen Huaiqing paused, momentarily at a loss. What was Fu Chen up to now?

Aunt Feng tried to get up to reheat the congee, swaying unsteadily. Shen Huaiqing quickly reached out to steady her, sighing, “It’s past midnight, Aunt Feng. I doubt Fu Chen will be back. Go on to bed, I’ll reheat his food if he returns.”

Aunt Feng wanted to protest, but then a new thought struck her—wasn’t this the perfect chance for Young Master and Young Madam to spend time together? She’d better not interfere.

With a warm smile, Aunt Feng said, “Young Madam, I’ll leave it to you then. If Young Master comes home, make sure he gets his congee! His digestion has always been delicate, not to be neglected.”

Shen Huaiqing nodded rapidly, like a pecking chick, and gently guided Aunt Feng toward her room.

Returning to the dining table, Shen Huaiqing gazed at the fragrant congee. She realized she was indeed a little hungry; she’d barely eaten anything at the office that evening.

Aunt Feng’s cooking had always been excellent—the aroma of the congee teased her appetite until she could hardly resist. She was never one for fussiness; she simply put the bowl into the microwave.

Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong—the doorbell rang sharply.

Who would be visiting the Fu residence at this hour? Shen Huaiqing wasn’t worried about security; the estate’s protection was tighter than a bank vault.

Puzzled, she opened the door.

A man reeking of alcohol collapsed heavily onto her, nearly knocking her to the floor.

“Miss Shen, I’ll leave the rest to you,” panted Lin Yu, standing at the doorway, his face aglow with schadenfreude.

Shen Huaiqing managed to prop Fu Chen up in the entryway and shot Lin Yu a cold look. “What’s going on?”

“What else?” Lin Yu replied. “Your husband was in a foul mood tonight and drank a bit too much. I’ve already done my brotherly duty getting him home. The rest is your job now, isn’t it?”

Shen Huaiqing glanced down in distaste at Fu Chen sprawled on the floor. “Why not take him to Lin Yiqing’s place instead?”

Lin Yu’s eyes widened. He stepped closer, almost shouting, “You’re really something—pushing your own husband toward another woman.” He even gave her a mocking thumbs-up.

“Enough, I’m done talking. Take good care of him, and don’t let him sleep on the floor all night.” With a casual twirl of his car keys, Lin Yu turned and left.

Closing the door, Shen Huaiqing found herself in a dilemma.

She really didn’t want to deal with this at all. But the last time she’d overindulged, Fu Chen had looked after her without leaving her side. Now, she couldn’t bring herself to leave him here heartlessly.

She crouched down, quietly watching Fu Chen.

His messy bangs fell across his eyes, his profile as sharply drawn as if sketched in charcoal—clean, strong lines. A faint flush colored his firm cheeks, lips pressed into a thin line, his breathing steady and calm.

Shen Huaiqing rarely saw Fu Chen so quiet and peaceful. She couldn’t resist leaning closer, her trembling hand brushing over the high bridge of his nose.

Then, a dramatic turn of events.

Fu Chen’s dark eyes suddenly snapped open, those fathomless pupils locking onto hers. Shen Huaiqing’s face burned as though caught red-handed in some mischief.

Her hand hovered uncertainly in midair, unsure whether to stay or retreat.

Trying to cover her embarrassment, she raised her voice: “Since you’re awake, get up yourself, you—”

Before she could finish, Fu Chen, still sprawled on the floor, yanked her down. His large hand cupped the back of her head, pulling her into a sudden, fierce kiss.

Her eyes flew wide, meeting his gaze, deep and bottomless as a dark pool. He kissed her with wild abandon, biting and sucking her lips, his tongue forcefully invading, tasting the sweetness of her mouth.

The heavy scent of alcohol enveloped her. Here she was, half crouched, bottom in the air, being kissed so aggressively—it was mortifying.

Shen Huaiqing squeezed her eyes shut and bit down hard on Fu Chen’s agile tongue. The taste of blood spread between them, but Fu Chen still showed no intention of releasing her.

A warm, golden glow spilled from the lamp, casting two entwined shadows on the white wall—breaths mingled, the air between them thick with intimacy and longing.

She didn’t know how long it lasted. Shen Huaiqing was nearly out of breath, her fists weakly pounding Fu Chen’s chest, soft moans escaping her lips.

At last, Fu Chen let her go, both their lips swollen and glistening.

Shen Huaiqing wiped her mouth furiously, her voice raised in indignation. “You’re something else—pretending to be drunk just to kiss me? Shameless!”

Fu Chen frowned deeply, swaying as he rose from the floor. He licked his lips with lingering satisfaction, his gaze hazy as he looked at her. “Shameless? Do I need to pretend to be drunk to kiss my own wife?”

Shen Huaiqing wasn’t one to make a fuss—after all, this wasn’t their first kiss. Still fuming, she helped him to his feet, snapping, “Come on! Eat something before you go to bed.” She led him toward the dining table.

But Fu Chen turned, blocking her path, his tall frame casting a shadow over her. He hooked her chin with one hand, his voice rough and low.

“Why not let me eat you instead?”

If not for his care the last time she was drunk, Shen Huaiqing would have stormed off long ago. But she hated owing favors, so she forced herself to be patient.

“Eat first—then you’ll have strength for anything else.”

Narrowing her clever, fox-like eyes, she let her cool hand gently stroke Fu Chen’s burning cheek, her shapely body pressing close against him.

Without another word, Fu Chen hefted her over his shoulder and strode toward the bedroom.

Now Shen Huaiqing was truly panicked. This man had barely been able to walk a moment ago—now he seemed more energetic than ever.

Before she could react, she was tossed unceremoniously onto the soft, wide bed. Fu Chen immediately pressed down above her.