Chapter Fifty-Two Let's Do It

Fu Chen’s light gray shirt had two buttons undone, revealing his strong chest and exuding an indefinable, wicked allure. She could clearly feel the rapid beating of his heart.

A cherry-red blush swiftly colored Shen Huaiqing’s face, and she averted her gaze.

“Even if I skip dinner, I still have the strength to handle you.” Fu Chen gently caressed Shen Huaiqing’s loose hair. His eyes carried a faint melancholy, cold and clear with a hint of mischief.

“Fu Chen, don’t be like this.”

Shen Huaiqing lifted her eyes to meet his, the corners of her lips curving into a faint, bitter smile.

“Don’t be like what?”

Fu Chen ignored her plea entirely, lowering his head, his fingers deftly searching for the buttons on her blouse. His breath grew heavier.

Shen Huaiqing was no naive girl—she could plainly sense the change in him. Yet there was only one thought in her mind.

She didn’t want anything to happen with Fu Chen.

While she was lost in these thoughts, the man had already undone the buttons at her chest. The wide collar revealed her alluring collarbones, swathes of snowy, flawless skin laid bare before him.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. Such a sight had long kindled a restless desire within him; her seductive neck, her tantalizing collarbones—every inch of her ignited something in him.

Fu Chen’s rough fingertips brushed lightly over Shen Huaiqing’s red lips.

“Let’s do it, hmm?” His deep, husky voice, though gentle, brimmed with dangerous undertones.

To say Shen Huaiqing felt nothing would be untrue, but her clear mind was still governed by reason.

She was secretly grateful Fu Chen wasn’t one of those domineering CEOs in a novel who would force himself on her; at least he still sought her consent.

“Fu Chen, do you love me? If you say you love me, I’ll agree.”

Just as she had in those first days of their marriage, Shen Huaiqing asked him the same question, knowing Fu Chen could never bring himself to say he loved her.

“Is that so important to you?”

“It’s very important. It’s important to every woman.” Shen Huaiqing had gambled right—Fu Chen couldn’t say he loved her.

Perhaps that single question extinguished all the fire in Fu Chen’s heart. He stared at the woman beneath him in silence, then soon moved away from her.

Shen Huaiqing slowly sat up on the bed. The dim yellow light painted the white walls, and he sat at the edge of the bed with his back to the light, his whole figure shrouded in darkness. The back that usually filled her with a sense of security now, for some reason, appeared lonely and desolate in her eyes.

“Mrs. Feng specifically reminded me that your stomach isn’t well. I’ll go down and get you some porridge.”

Shen Huaiqing spoke softly as she looked at his back. Fu Chen gave no response, silently fiddling with the watch on his wrist.

She hurried downstairs to fetch the porridge. Fortunately, it hadn’t yet cooled in the microwave and was still warm. Carrying the bowl, she quickly went back upstairs.

Opening the door, she saw that Fu Chen still hadn’t taken off his watch. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, his lips pressed into a thin line, his expression deeply focused.

Shen Huaiqing set the porridge aside, knelt before him, and took his hand.

“Let me help.”

Under the orange lamplight, Shen Huaiqing’s long, straight black hair cascaded down like a waterfall, her fair skin glowing like jade. Her exquisitely fox-like eyes shimmered beneath a few stray strands of hair, breathtakingly beautiful.

With a few deft movements, she removed his watch. Clearly, Fu Chen had had too much to drink—normally, he could put on and take off his watch with one hand, but tonight it had stumped him.

“Do you need me to feed you as well?” Shen Huaiqing teased, picking up the bowl of porridge.

“Do you love me?” Fu Chen murmured as if possessed, his voice holding back a wild beast, yet infinitely gentle and deep. His dark eyes burned into hers, like a marsh threatening to swallow her whole.

Stirring the porridge with a porcelain spoon, Shen Huaiqing listened to the crisp clinking against the bowl.

Did she love him? Probably not.

But did she not love him? There were countless times she thought of him for no reason, countless times she chose to trust him unconditionally. When she saw him with Lin Yiqing, she too felt a pang of discomfort.

Sometimes, she even subconsciously relied on him.

There was once a story: a beast, wounded, could crawl to a cave to hide and lick its own wounds, but if someone showed it care at that moment, it simply couldn’t bear it.

Shen Huaiqing instinctively wanted to avoid the question. She lowered her eyes, stirring the porridge, and sat beside Fu Chen with the bowl.

“Have a little,” she coaxed, blowing gently on a spoonful and bringing it to his lips.

Fu Chen stared straight at her, his tone tinged with self-mockery. “You don’t love me, do you?”

With patience, Shen Huaiqing continued to coax him. “Don’t say such things. Have some porridge to sober up.”

“Is it really so hard to say you don’t love me?” Fu Chen seemed like a different person, pressing her relentlessly.

Shen Huaiqing, never patient by nature, felt a surge of irritation. She set the bowl down on the cabinet with a bang, her face expressionless. “I don’t love you! Are you satisfied? You should ask Lin Yiqing this question, not me!”

Her tone made it sound as if she were jealous of Lin Yiqing.

Fu Chen pressed his lips together, his expression suddenly bleak. In a low voice, he said, “I think... I don’t love Yiqing anymore.”

Shock and disbelief flashed in Shen Huaiqing’s eyes. She felt neither moved nor happy; instead, her first thought was of the conversation she’d overheard outside Fu Chen’s office that day. She didn’t believe he didn’t love Lin Yiqing—she thought he was just playing the same old trick.

It was just another way to use her, to make her obedient.

“You’re drunk,” Shen Huaiqing said quietly, looking at Fu Chen.

He frowned slightly, rubbing his temples, and collapsed onto the bed, staring at the dim ceiling. “I know you’re not really Shen Huaiqing.”

“That day, Lin Yu asked me what I intended to do.”

“I said I didn’t know.”

“The truth is, we’re both the same—people abandoned by the world.” Fu Chen’s eyes looked exhausted, the corners tinged red.

Panic flashed across Shen Huaiqing’s face. She hadn’t expected Fu Chen to so easily pierce through the veil between them. Now, she truly couldn’t tell whether he was truly drunk or not.

After all, there’s that old saying: a man will pretend to be three parts drunk just to move you to tears.

“How could we be the same? You’re the future heir of the Fu family.”

The best way to test if Fu Chen was really drunk was to probe him, to see if he would let something slip about his affairs.

“Heh, heir? I’m just a stepping stone. They want Fu Yixing to step on me to rise to the top! Dream on!”

Fu Chen’s eyes were bloodshot, wild as a beast gone mad, his hardened jaw seeming to shout with a deathly fury.