Chapter 15: You Clearly Chose Me That Night

“So,” Duan Mengsheng set down his pen, the eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses gleaming with a knowing smile.
“Our Young Master Qiao has been pondering life for several days straight beneath the same residential building—is he finally taking an interest in urban planning?”

Qiao Chenye shot him a cold glance, his tone sharp as steel: “Give me your medicine, cut the nonsense.”

“I don’t have your medicine. You’ll have to find it yourself.” Duan Mengsheng leaned forward, hands folded on the table.
“What you need to cure now isn’t psychological disorder, but a broken heart—especially the kind called ‘desire unmet yet refusing to admit it.’”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Qiao Chenye avoided his gaze and stared out the window, as though the gray, dull sky was more interesting than their conversation.

“Really don’t know?” Duan Mengsheng drawled slowly.
“That girl named Wen Yan—she’s got you this troubled? Troubled enough to wander beneath her building like a lovesick teenager?”

Qiao Chenye immediately retorted, “No, I just want to understand her thoughts, but I don’t want any other connection with a married woman.”

“You two are fated. Besides, her inhumane husband—how does he compare to you?”

“With your status and power, so what if she’s married? Maybe she just needs your help to get a divorce. You could both get what you want.” Duan Mengsheng’s words struck like a revelation, and the air grew charged with intensity.

“Absurd!”

Qiao Chenye suddenly stood, his movement so forceful the sofa shifted back with a screech.

Like a beast with its tail stepped on, his eyes darkened with menace as he stared at Duan Mengsheng: “I don’t need a discarded toy, nor would I make a deal with such a weak little white rabbit.”

He hissed the words through clenched teeth, then turned and strode out, slamming the door behind him, leaving Duan Mengsheng shaking his head with a wry smile:
“Stubborn on the outside, anxious inside—pride brings nothing but suffering…”

…

Qiao Chenye did not return home. The engine roared, but the car obeyed none of his commands and drove back toward that irritating neighborhood.

He sat inside, window down, cold wind brushing his flushed cheeks and ears. Duan Mengsheng’s words echoed in his mind like a broken record—“You’re falling for her! You’re falling for her!”

“Damn it!” he cursed under his breath, pounding his fist on the steering wheel.

Two days. He had been lurking beneath her building like a stalker for two whole days.

After waiting two days, he no longer wished to continue.

He pulled out his phone, found the number he had memorized but never dialed (provided by Assistant Liu), and stiffly typed a line, his tone commanding, as if it were a decree and as if Wen Yan would be fortunate to be noticed by him.

**“Divorce him. Whatever you want, I’ll give you.”**

Sent.

He gripped the phone tightly. His heartbeat faltered, torn between anticipation and frustration over his own feelings.

…

Just a weak little white rabbit—pretty, but truly timid. Could such a person be a worthy canary?

Upstairs, Wen Yan, just drifting into sleep, was startled awake by the message alert.

She fumbled for her phone, squinting at the unfamiliar number.

Then the message—“Divorce him. Whatever you want, I’ll give you.”

Her first thought was Liu Yanyan! Surely Liu Yanyan couldn’t stand her mother-in-law and, too afraid to confront Li Jingyan directly, had come to coerce Wen Yan, the “original wife,” into divorcing first? And tried to buy her off with money?

And it wasn’t even their shared marital property! Wen Yan was furious awake.

Her morning grumpiness flared instantly. Without thinking, she quickly fired back:

**“Are you rich, big sister? Li Jingyan still owes me 600,000 yuan! Don’t talk about thousands—today’s Thursday, send me 50 yuan on WeChat first to prove your power!”**

After sending, she felt a little better. She switched off her phone, tossed it on the bedside table, wrapped herself in the blanket, and tried to go back to sleep.

Completely unaware this message came from a far more terrifying source.

…

Downstairs, Qiao Chenye stared at the screen showing that scornful reply, his whole body freezing.

600,000? Thursday? Send 50 yuan on WeChat to prove power?

Who did she think he was? Fifty yuan? Was she mocking him?

The overwhelming humiliation shattered his already fragile reason.

“Good… very good!” His eyes darkened with a brewing storm. He flung open the car door and stormed toward the building entrance.

…

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

Minutes later, the furious knocking sounded as if it would tear the door down, jolting Wen Yan awake.

Her heart skipped a beat in fright. She was stunned for a moment before realizing—so late at night… could it be Li Jingyan, overwhelmed by the mother-in-law battles, hiding out here to find peace?

Irritated, she ran her fingers through her hair, threw on a coat, shuffled in slippers, and sleepily went to open the door.

“Li Jingyan, why are you out so late…” Her complaint caught in her throat.

The figure outside was not Li Jingyan.

Qiao Chenye’s tall silhouette nearly blocked the entire doorway.

…

He seemed to have rushed over in haste, panting lightly, a few strands of black hair falling over his forehead, unable to conceal the terrifying emotions swirling in his eyes.

In that gaze burned raging fury, a shadow of humiliation, and something else—something Wen Yan couldn’t understand—a near-obsessive heat.

Wen Yan was instantly wide awake, completely losing her sleepiness, and instinctively tried to close the door.

But Qiao Chenye was faster.

One hand slammed against the door, his immense strength rendering her resistance futile as if an ant trying to shake a tree.

With the other hand, he thrust a black card into her arms with a suppressed force.

Without any unnecessary words, his voice was low and hoarse: “Divorce me. Money is no object.”

Wen Yan fumbled to catch the black card, utterly bewildered, unable to make sense of the situation:

“Divorce? Divorce what? No, Mr. Qiao, what… what do you mean?” Her fear made her words scatter.

Seeing her confusion and terror, Qiao Chenye’s patience snapped.

He shoved the door wide open with a violent force, causing Wen Yan to stumble back with a startled cry.

He stepped inside, then slammed the door shut behind him with a “bang,” sealing out the world.

The cramped entryway instantly filled with his presence and an oppressive tension.

Amid Wen Yan’s cries of shock, Qiao Chenye stretched out his long arms and suddenly pulled her into a tight embrace!

Wen Yan struggled, but his iron grip held her fast. His warm chest pressed closely against her, separated only by a thin layer of sleepwear. She could feel his rapid heartbeat and burning heat.

He bent his head, his scorching breath brushing her sensitive ear and neck, his voice low and deep:

“Sister, that night at the Rose Club… you chose me willingly.”

His lips almost brushed her earlobe, each word like an electric shock, striking her nerves:

“Have you forgotten completely how you were beneath me? Hm?”

That familiar form, that hoarse voice, those words dripping with ambiguity…

Simultaneously, both Wen Yan’s consciousness and the system inside her exploded with terrified screams!

Wen Yan jerked her head up, and at this close range, clearly saw him—the high, proud nose, and those deep eyes that seemed ready to swallow her whole…

Shattered, fiery, blush-inducing memories suddenly surged into her mind!