Chapter 7: Sweet Nothings, Half Truths That Enchant the Heart

Inside the private room, Song Qianqian sat beside Shen Zhou, surrounded by several of his close friends.

He had already introduced Song Qianqian to these few people earlier, but none of them had involved Tang Yuan.

Song Qianqian had the kind of appearance that everyone adored—the quintessential first-love type. She held onto Shen Zhou’s arm, her voice sweet as honey.

“Brother Zhou, I have an interview tomorrow and I’m a bit nervous. Could you come over and keep me company tonight?”

As she spoke, she fixed her eyes on Shen Zhou.

When he first noticed her, he said he was captivated by her eyes—ethereal and beautiful.

So Song Qianqian was used to employing this tactic to make him fall deeper under her spell.

Shen Zhou smiled and personally peeled a grape for her.

As a wealthy young gentleman, he was usually spoiled and never took care of anyone before.

But Song Qianqian felt an unprecedented sense of fulfillment, blushing as she nestled into his embrace. “Please, can you?”

Just as she finished speaking, his phone rang. The screen flashed two words—“Wife.”

The smile in his eyes dimmed slightly. He fed the grape into Song Qianqian’s mouth with one hand, but didn’t retract it; instead, his fingers slowly brushed her lips.

Song Qianqian’s face flushed, her heart pounding. With such a handsome face before her, it was impossible not to be enchanted.

It seemed Shen Zhou was born with an innate charm that drew women to him.

He pressed the answer button, his tone casual. “What is it?”

Tang Yuan was standing by the bedside table in the bedroom, unable to find her ID card. She recalled that Shen Zhou had put it away somewhere.

As the studio’s owner, she needed it for a series of upcoming contracts.

“Where did you put my ID card?”

“Ask the servants. How would I remember something like that?”

Tang Yuan knew she couldn’t count on him. She took a deep breath. “Hmm.”

He laughed on the other end, one hand still tracing gentle circles on his mistress’s lips, his eyes shimmering with faint ripples.

“Looking for the ID card is just an excuse. You’re really checking up on me, aren’t you?”

Half-true, half-flirtatious words were intoxicating.

Tang Yuan remained silent. Shen Zhou’s tricks were endless, and she could never resist.

Yet luckily, she heard a woman’s soft moan from the other side.

Just when she was about to waver, she was quickly slapped back to reality.

She lowered her lashes and said, “No, I’m hanging up.”

Shen Zhou ended the call, and a sudden weight pressed on his knee—it was Song Qianqian, who had climbed onto his lap.

“Brother Zhou, please don’t go home tonight.”

---

Shen Zhou glanced at the three men before him—they were his closest friends.

Given his situation, none of them found it unusual.

Xie Mo chuckled softly, “It’s only halfway through the month, and you’ve already spent ten nights with her, right? Even ancient empresses knew how to divide their nights among concubines.”

Song Qianqian blushed, burying her face against Shen Zhou’s chest, her heart racing.

Shen Zhou was undeniably handsome, his gaze tender and his words full of lingering affection—how could she not be infatuated?

She wished he would divorce that yellow-faced hag at home and be with her.

But she had to suppress such impulses; pushing him too hard would backfire.

Song Qianqian had been in the entertainment industry long enough to see so-called wealthy men.

But compared to these few, they were just nouveau riche.

These men came from truly powerful and noble families, each exuding a strong aura. Although there were many second-generation rich in the circle, these few were undoubtedly at the very center of privilege.

She had to hold on tightly and sweep that yellow-faced woman out.

Shen Zhou tilted his head and left a kiss on her cheek. “Be good and go home first. I have something to do tonight.”

Song Qianqian was reluctant but knew she had to obey.

She cupped his face and kissed him for several minutes before reluctantly getting up to leave.

As soon as she left, Xie Mo couldn’t hold back.

“At this rate, Tang Yuan will find out sooner or later.”

Before Shen Zhou could reply, Gu Xun spoke up. “If he dares to do this, he’s not afraid of being found out. But Tang Yuan has liked you for over a decade, hasn’t she? When she was adopted by the Tang family, you often went to play with her. After all, we watched her grow up. Don’t go too far.”

Shen Zhou leaned back, fingers tracing the rim of his glass, speaking casually.

“When I married her, I made it clear—I don’t like her.”

Gu Xun took a sip of wine. “Who doesn’t know you like that other girl? That little star’s eyes really do resemble hers. Tang Yuan is so beautiful—how did she end up with you?”

Xie Mo added, “Wrong choice in men. Meeting Shen Zhou is a lifetime regret. That’s all Tang Yuan’s life will be.”

Gu Xun laughed again. “But maybe one day she’ll come around and learn from our Shen—keep a mistress.”

Shen Zhou unbuttoned one button, eyes closed, a smile curling at his lips. “Tang Yuan was raised by the Tang family to be a full-time housewife, like a clinging vine. She can’t live without me.”

The others fell silent, clearly approving.

Everyone knew the Tang family’s purpose in adopting Tang Yuan was an alliance marriage.

Marrying Shen Zhou was her fortune.

---

Tang Yuan woke in the middle of the night, feeling unwell.

She touched her forehead and realized the stress from the past few days had likely caused a fever.

She forced herself up to go downstairs for some fever medicine.

Hearing the movement, a servant turned on a wall lamp.

“Madam, what are you looking for?”

“Fever medicine. I think I have a fever.”

She leaned against a nearby table, feeling dizzy and lightheaded.

The servant hurried forward. “I’ll get it for you. Please sit down, I’ll bring you a glass of water.”

“Thank you.”

Tang Yuan had always been kind to the servants, never acting high and mighty.

Though the Tang family was strict, she had truly been raised as the perfect lady of the house.

She held her head, her shoulders rising and falling as nausea overwhelmed her.

The hall’s lighting was dim when her phone suddenly rang.

Groggy, she answered and put it on speaker. On the other end came a series of muffled sounds.

“Brother Zhou, no, no more—I have an interview tomorrow. I really can’t.”

“Brother Zhou...”

Tang Yuan’s face instantly paled, her fingers trembling as she tried to hang up, but her vision was too blurred to press the button.

The servant standing nearby with the fever medicine dared not speak.

“Madam... maybe... someone dialed the wrong number...”

The servant wanted to cover for Shen Zhou, who was the boss and the one paying their salaries.

Being a full-time housewife sounded nice, but in a custody battle, legally she was unemployed.

Tang Yuan found it ironic. Her mind cleared as she took the medicine from the servant, swallowing it dry without water.

“Don’t tell Shen Zhou about this.”

The servant’s eyes showed some disdain but seemed ready to pretend ignorance.

After all, who wouldn’t stay silent for two hundred thousand a month?

“I won’t say a word in front of the master.”