Chapter 8: "It's perfectly legal within marriage, what are you afraid of?"

The two sisters locked eyes, Song Xi’s face flushed an unnatural shade of red.

In the next second, she slammed her phone screen down, clutching it tightly to her chest, shielding it completely.

"Um, I’m suddenly sleepy and need to go to bed. I'll show you next time, alright? That’s it, goodnight!"

With that, she hopped off the bed, shoved Zhang Hening out the door, and locked it with a resounding *bang*—all in one fluid, seamless motion.

Zhang Hening stood outside the door: ???

Am I some sort of shameful, unspeakable creature?

What happened to looking at "the husband" together?

Are we not allowed to look anymore?

Song Xi leaned her back against the door, her face still burning, her chest heaving slightly.

A moment later, she heard a low, buzzing chuckle emanate from the phone, carrying a magnetic, electric quality.

She pulled the phone out and saw the man on the screen still half-naked, his robe hanging loosely, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"W-why aren't you wearing clothes?" Song Xi asked, her face turning crimson.

"Apologies. I just finished a shower and didn't want to keep you waiting. I was in a bit of a rush."

The man on the other side possessed sharp, defined features and exquisite brows. Even his brow bone and jawline were clean-cut, and a pair of cool, clear eyes gazed through the screen.

"Besides, whether I’m wearing clothes or not, shouldn't you have... seen clearly enough that night?"

"It’s perfectly legal within our marriage. What are you afraid of?"

Song Xi was rendered speechless.

It wasn’t fear; it was just... too intense.

His physique wasn't just good; it was provocative. Under the dim bedside lamp, it exuded a heavy, seductive allure, with veins standing out, hinting at explosive power.

It was hard for her not to recall that night.

The same lighting, the same atmosphere, the firm touch, and the man’s low, ragged breathing—

Song Xi’s throat felt dry.

"Tie your robe sash," she said. "My best friend is outside. A married man should maintain his 'husbandly virtue.' Don't scare her."

On the other side of the screen, the man’s deep, piercing gaze was fixed entirely on her; he had no interest in her friend whatsoever.

He was quite obedient. Holding the phone in one hand, he leisurely tied the sash of his robe with the other, his long, powerful frame being bundled up, leaving only his refined and sharp face on the screen.

The body was gone, but the face was still incredibly striking.

Song Xi felt that this man was a total visual feast.

"I’m on a business trip in Hong Kong," he said in a low voice. "What kind of gift do you want? I'll bring it back for you."

Song Xi shook her head quickly. "Nothing, thank you. We aren't really that close to begin with, and you've already given me enough."

"Not close?" His voice rose at the end.

"Are we close?"

"I think we're quite close," he said with a straight face.

After all, they had already achieved "negative distance."

During that night of frequent contact—the closeness, the rhythm, the weight—even though both were tasting the fruit for the first time, Jing Zhuo had gradually mapped out her weak spots through careful study and patient practice.

In the process of exploration, she had taken the initiative to wrap her arms around his neck, digging her nails into his shoulders, and even biting him.

She had stamped her seal, leaving her mark.

There was no one closer to her than him.

This time, even the tips of Song Xi’s ears turned red. She always felt he was implying something, quietly teasing her.

"Um, when you get back, can you meet my best friend?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"It’s just... she’s the most important person to me. I got married, and she’s a bit worried. She wants to 'vet' you."

Song Xi explained it very honestly.

If the man opposite her couldn't accept her best friend, then even if he were a fallen immortal with wealth and looks to match, she would bid him farewell in a heartbeat.

The man’s expression remained calm, without a hint of nervousness or hesitation.

"Very well. I leave the arrangements to you."

She hadn't expected him to agree so quickly, and Song Xi let out a long sigh of relief.

It seemed she would be able to handle the harmony between her husband and her best friend quite well this time.

The two chatted a little more, exchanged goodnights, and she hung up the video call, curling into her blankets while hugging Guai Guai.

*Ahhh...*

She buried her face in the cat’s soft, fluffy belly.

"Guai Guai, your stepfather is so handsome. We really hit the jackpot..."

"I just hope he isn't a drug dealer."

-

Zhang Hening had been angry all morning, and even during breakfast, she was still fuming.

Song Xi had to apologize and plead for peace, promising to arrange a meeting once he returned from his business trip, before her friend finally calmed down.

Work had been hectic these past few days. She had taken on an outdoor shoot, busy leaving early and returning late, burying herself entirely in her work.

It was only five days later that Song Xi remembered she had a "cheap" husband.

On Sunday morning, her phone *pinged* with a notification. He had sent a photo of a cake shop.

"Which flavor do you like?"

As soon as Song Xi opened her eyes, she saw all kinds of miniature cakes in the photo—exquisite and beautiful, instantly whetting her appetite.

How did he know she liked cake?

She was surprised, but she honestly picked a green grape flavor, circled it, and sent it back.

"I like the green grape one, thank you."

"Got it."

He replied with two simple words and nothing more.

Song Xi: "?"

Is he not going to ask me out?

Just one question?

What about the green grape cake? Is he still giving it to me?

She waited for ten minutes without getting another message from her "husband," but instead heard the incessant scratching at the door.

It was Zhang Hening’s Golden Retriever, Qiqi. The dog had found a new playmate over the last two days and came over every morning to scratch at the door, wanting to play with Guai Guai.

Song Xi opened the door, and the Golden Retriever rushed in, its tail wagging like a propeller. The cat and dog immediately began wrestling, chasing each other up and down the stairs.

She set her phone aside, finished washing up quickly, left her hair loose, and changed into a cotton long dress with a light shrug—a simple, elegant, and clean outfit.

This was her usual home attire; it stripped away the crisp, professional edge of her work persona, making her look delicate, graceful, and pristine.

Just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw a woman in a *qipao* sitting in the living room. The woman looked dignified and refined, smiling and chatting in low tones with Jing Rong.

Song Xi recognized her at a glance.

So, she really was Zhang Hening’s prospective sister-in-law. She was here for a blind date today; it seemed Hening’s eldest brother was returning today.

Not wanting to intrude, Song Xi bypassed the living room to exit through another door, only to be intercepted halfway by Zhang Hening.

"Xi-bao, come on, let’s go to my second brother’s press conference. Bring your equipment; we’re going to capture some legendary, viral photos of him today."

Song Xi: "Are you chasing celebrities again today?"

"Yep! I’m a high-ranking station master in Zhang Hexing’s fan club now. I’m quite popular," Zhang Hening said proudly.

Song Xi didn't understand. "If you're chasing your second brother, can't you just do it at home? Wouldn't that be easier?"

Zhang Hening looked disgusted. "Have you seen him at home? He’s a total slob with a bird's nest for hair. Who wants to see that? I want to be praised to the heavens by the girls in his fan club."

Song Xi: "..."

You aren't there to chase a star; you're there to poach your brother's fans, aren't you?

Since she was off today and had nothing else to do, Song Xi grabbed her camera and went with her. The mini BMW disappeared into the garage in a flash.

Ten minutes later.

A car parked outside the small courtyard.

A man stepped out. Dressed in a shirt and suit, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, he possessed an exceptionally superior face beneath sharp, refined brows.

He was very tall, with a slender and upright figure, easily standing at one meter eighty-eight.

In his hand, he carried two boxes of small cakes.