Chapter 13: Calling Him "Husband"... That Can Wait for Another Day

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Song Xi did not get divorced.
Song Xi stopped making a fuss.
Song Xi followed her "husband" home.

The black Bentley glided steadily along the road. The man sat beside her, close enough that the faint scent of cedar emanating from him lingered at her nostrils.

Song Xi sat upright, secretly pulling out her phone to message Zhang Hening on WeChat.

“Doggy, why did you run away???”

Zhang Hening replied with a dog emoji showing a frightened expression.

“I just saw my big brother. He walked right past me with such a cold face it could freeze a person. I got scared and took off. He’s always saying I’m unemployed and unambitious. If he found out I was fangirling again, he’d definitely drag me off to work at the company.”

Song Xi thought she was exaggerating: “That’s your brother, not some living ghost.”

“You don’t understand. He’s more terrifying than a ghost! You’d better stay far away from him and never provoke him.”

Song Xi: “I don’t even know your brother.”

Zhang Hening: “He’s easy to spot—the fiercest, meanest, most eye-catching one in the crowd.”

Well, then she probably hadn’t seen him before.

The Bentley descended from the overpass, seemingly close to their destination.

Song Xi didn’t have time to chat further; she simply told Zhang Hening that her husband had come to pick her up, they weren’t going back for now, and that Zhang Hening should head home by herself.

Zhang Hening replied with “Ok” and lamented not meeting her mysterious husband sooner.

She asked Song Xi to take a photo and send it to her.

Song Xi promised to try her best.

She put away her phone and noticed the man closing his eyes to rest. From her angle, his profile was sharp and cold. Early spring sunlight filtered through the car window in patches, casting a cool, almost chilly light on his face, as if even the sunshine carried a hint of frost.

He clearly seemed someone not prone to idle chatter.

Yet just now, he had called her “wife.”

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With his cool and aloof aura, there was an inexplicable sense of incongruity.

“Do I look good?” the man suddenly asked.

Caught sneaking a glance, Song Xi nodded earnestly. “Yes.”

“We’re almost home. Rest your eyes now, you can look properly later.”

His voice was low and deep, magnetic, without a hint of reproach.

Song Xi grew even more embarrassed, quickly averting her gaze and trying hard to appear calm and composed.

Stay composed!

Song Xi, you’ve seen plenty of handsome men—don’t be so weak!

He’s already your husband. Just play along, sneak a glance or two less; after all, there will be plenty of chances to look in the future, even touch.

Chest muscles, abs, those beautiful hands, long legs—everything would belong to her.

The Bentley slowly pulled into the garage. The driver reversed the car into a parking spot and turned off the engine.

Just as Song Xi was about to get out, Jing Zhuo’s phone suddenly rang. He glanced at the screen, then turned to her and said,

“Wait a moment, I need to take a call. Three minutes.”

“All right.”

Song Xi obediently sat back down.

Jing Zhuo held the phone and stepped a short distance away, standing by the car and speaking quietly into the receiver.

In the dim light, he wore only a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, the hem tucked into his belt. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs—his superior physique was model-like.

Handsomeness was a feeling.

Song Xi discreetly pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of him.

The garage was dimly lit, so only a vague silhouette emerged, lending an indescribable atmospheric quality.

Her professional habit kicked in, and she held the phone up, searching for better angles and taking several more pictures.

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After finishing the call, Jing Zhuo glanced back at the Bentley’s rear seat. Calmly, he said into the phone,

“Starting tomorrow, arrange an internship position as a special assistant.”

The assistant on the other end, Chen, was flattered: “President Jing, I’m not tired. I don’t need an assistant.”

“But Zhang Hening needs a supervisor. I’m putting her under you. Find some work for her to do,” Jing Zhuo said matter-of-factly.

Chen was deeply moved but speechless.

He thought the president was being considerate of his recent hardships, but it turned out he just wanted to place a connected person.

So now not only did he have to work hard for the boss, but also for the boss’s sister.

The burdens of a working person are never-ending.

Jing Zhuo hung up, casually glanced toward the car window.

The person inside noticed his gaze and hastily hid the phone. He waited a few seconds until Song Xi sat up straight and acted as if nothing had happened, then leisurely walked over and opened the car door.

“Wife, we’re home.”

Strictly speaking, they had only met twice, but he said “wife” so naturally.

Song Xi blinked, feeling she ought to return the favor.

“All right… hu…” No, she just couldn’t say it yet.

Upon hearing the partial address, the man’s eyes flickered faintly before dimming again.

Well, the marriage certificate was signed. Calling him “husband” would come in due time.

He had plenty of time to seduce her.

Jing Zhuo narrowed his eyes, concealing the shadow of darkness that had lingered in them for years.