Volume One, Chapter 11: The Expression Is Wrong

After the kiss ended, Shen Zhao lay against Zhou Huaixu’s chest, her breathing rapid.

Zhou Huaixu lifted her onto the marble dining table, lowering his gaze with an unnervingly calm expression as he looked at her. “Pretending to be a chaste and virtuous woman in front of Zhou Lin, not for money but for love. But with me, you’re not so reserved?”

Shen Zhao almost blurted out, “Isn’t that obvious?”

She had indeed broken up with Zhou Lin, but it was a genuine breakup between real lovers. She couldn’t control how Zhou Lin felt, but her feelings were sincere. Even if her sincerity wasn’t reciprocated, she accepted it, cut her losses, and escaped in time.

As for Zhou Huaixu…

A man with split personalities and a money-grubbing skinflint who constantly humiliated her—she had no shame in return.

However, such words were far from something she dared to say aloud.

Zhou Huaixu was a dark character; just looking at his face, one couldn’t discern his emotions. Shen Zhao always felt he was the type to take secret revenge—who knew when he might be in a foul mood and trap her behind a cement wall.

The thought chilled her to the bone.

Suddenly, she felt like backing out. She shouldn’t have followed him back.

Zhou Huaixu’s hand gripped her waist, noticing her trembling. “Why are you shaking? Afraid?”

Shen Zhao nodded honestly. “Please don’t seal me in cement walls, alright?”

Zhou Huaixu frowned in puzzlement, then after two seconds, he let out a light laugh. “You have quite the imagination.”

When he smiled, he was stunningly handsome, dazzling enough to blind anyone, but also like a poppy—captivating yet deadly.

Shen Zhao became even more afraid.

Thus, the old saying about Mr. Wuliu not bowing for five bushels of rice made perfect sense—the “five bushels of rice” was not so easy to swallow.

Zhou Huaixu took her hand, placing it on his loose tie. Shen Zhao’s pale fingers hooked the knot, pulling it down to loosen it.

The tie fell around her wrist, and Zhou Huaixu’s fingers locked it in place, binding her hand.

Shen Zhao struggled, but he tightened the grip.

“Don’t move,” he said in a hoarse voice.

She nestled into his embrace, not daring to move.

His long, prominent fingers pushed her shoulders apart, suddenly pulling away.

“Recreate the pose from the photo.”

Shen Zhao’s face flushed bright red, both embarrassed and annoyed. “Didn’t you say the photos would be deleted?”

Zhou Huaixu replied, “What makes you think I saved your private photos?”

“…”

If you’re not interested and didn’t save them, why do you want to see me do it again? Are you crazy?

---

Enduring her frustration, Shen Zhao complied.

Zhou Huaixu said, “The expression is wrong.”

She frowned, puzzled.

His long fingers brushed over the collar of her pristine shirt. Shen Zhao’s hands were tied, unable to resist. At one moment, his watery eyes swirled as he looked deep into hers. Suddenly, he pressed her waist, pulling her tightly into his chest, fitting perfectly.

When Pei Yalai called, Shen Zhao was placed by Zhou Huaixu in front of a mirror, her phone lying on the nearby counter within reach.

She glanced at the screen—it said “Mother.” Looking up through the mirror, she caught Zhou Huaixu’s amused gaze and felt her heart sink halfway.

“Don’t—”

Zhou Huaixu swiped to answer and put the call on speaker.

Shen Zhao bit her lip.

“Huaixu, why did you leave Miss Wu alone in the dining room? Others turned down several engagements just to meet you today. Since when did you become so disrespectful?”

Pei Yalai’s voice was sharp and furious.

Zhou Huaixu’s face remained impassive except for a faint redness at the corners of his eyes.

Shen Zhao tensed up, her muscles tightening.

Zhou Huaixu whispered, “Relax.”

The call suddenly fell silent.

Shen Zhao’s eyes reddened as she looked back at Zhou Huaixu pleadingly, but no shame flickered across his face.

The call was abruptly ended from the other side.

Her heart, already half chilled, now completely froze.

In a rare show of kindness, Zhou Huaixu loosened her tie and freed her hands. He carried her to the sofa and cared for her.

When it was over, Shen Zhao felt utterly broken and wanted to lie down to rest, but discomfort kept nagging at her. She asked, “May I use your bathroom?”

Last time, when she had barged into the hotel bedroom, he had thrown her out.

Now, still in Zhou Huaixu’s domain, Shen Zhao dared not cross any lines.

Zhou Huaixu glanced at her coldly. “You can still walk?”

She took this as consent, said nothing, and slowly got up, trembling as she made her way to the bathroom.

After only a few steps, a large hand encircled her waist. Zhou Huaixu scooped her up and carried her into the bathroom, placing her gently in the tub.

He poured shower gel and began to wash her. “Won’t you beg me?”

Soaked in the warm water, she felt somewhat comforted and murmured, “I begged you all night, and you never let up.”

Besides, after last time, he hadn’t even wanted to touch her finger. Why should she embarrass herself?

---

Hearing this, a slight twitch lifted his eyebrows, and his actions grew gentler as he bathed her.

...

After washing Shen Zhao, Zhou Huaixu dried her hair and tossed her a ladies’ nightgown.

The nightgown was new, tags still attached.

Dressing in it, Shen Zhao thought Zhou Huaixu was even more twisted—keeping dresses at home? Did he often do this kind of thing before?

Considering his skills and perversity, the possibility seemed very high.

Zhou Huaixu caught the strange look on her face. “What are you imagining now?”

Shen Zhao blurted, “You don’t have a fetish for wearing skirts at home, do you?”

Of course, as soon as she said it, she wished she could sew her mouth shut.

Then she remembered—Zhou Huaixu did have an ex-girlfriend, and it was only natural to have dresses stocked for her.

“Mr. Zhou, I was wrong.”

Shen Zhao quickly raised a white flag before he could humiliate her further.

Zhou Huaixu, having had his fill tonight, didn’t bother arguing. He turned and went to shower.

When he came out, he saw Shen Zhao curled up small and fragile on the sofa, wrapped in a thin blanket.

He strode over, lowered his eyebrows, and looked down at her. “You’re planning to sleep here?”

Shen Zhao, nearly asleep, was startled awake and replied not very nicely, “Where else can I sleep?!”

Hadn’t he made her sleep on the sofa at the hotel last time?

Zhou Huaixu said, “Go to bed.”

Shen Zhao didn’t want to move. “This is fine.”

At least it was wider and softer than the hotel sofa.

Zhou Huaixu didn’t bother persuading her further. He gave her a cold glance and retreated to the bedroom.

The next morning, Shen Zhao was roused by the alarm, barely propping herself up on the sofa.

Zhou Huaixu, fully dressed, came out of the kitchen carrying breakfast. Noticing her in a daze, he said flatly, “If you’re awake, come eat.”

Shen Zhao jumped up quickly, wanting to find clothes to wear, but Zhou Huaixu added, “Your clothes are all dirty. Do you still want to wear them?”

“…”

Helping you with your affairs is exhausting and ruins my clothes—it’s a real loss.

She thought about demanding Zhou Huaixu pay for her clothes when the doorbell rang.