Chapter 89 If You Cheat, I’ll Take It Myself

Chapter 89: If You’re Going to Weasel Out, I’ll Just Collect Myself

Qin Shuyi was swift and precise in her restorative work on remains, but dancing was certainly not her forte.

Even wearing a light-yellow, fluffy duck costume, her awkward movements were unmistakable.

Yet her face radiated vibrancy and charm—full of life.

Ling Jue watched, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

She really was that adorable.

Around her family, she exuded a different kind of liveliness—obedient, sweet, effortlessly endearing. Ling Jue had experienced it firsthand.

He’d celebrated the happiest birthday of his life with Qin Shuyi.

In the depths of a bitter winter, the usually reserved woman surrounded him from dawn onward with her melodic voice, calling him “A-Jue” this and “A-Jue” that. She kissed him for every little thing—as if he were a child needing help with everything.

Outside the living room’s picture window, in the yard, stood a comically lopsided snowman she’d built herself. It held two uneven red signs: one read *“Ling Jue is the most handsome,”* the other *“Ling Jue is forever happy.”* The brushstrokes were bold and spirited.

It was so childish it was hilarious—yet it warmed him to his core.

He’d received countless expensive gifts, but never before had he felt such simple, heartfelt sincerity from anyone.

Perhaps others could have done the same—if they’d wanted to. But there was only one Qin Shuyi in the world—and he saw only her.

Her thoughtfulness made his joy all the sweeter.

That day, though he had work at the company, he skipped it entirely.

He simply wanted to stay home and savor her rare, undivided attention.

She’d assumed getting him out the door to work would solve everything—but instead, she watched as he doubled back, hesitating, fretting, scrambling to think of more surprises.

Watching her distress, he suppressed a smile, keeping his expression blank while casually ordering her around with trivial errands.

By evening, she slipped out quietly, returned carrying a cake, and trudged through the snow clutching a massive bouquet—her smile radiant and bright.

“Ling Jue—happy birthday.”

Ling Jue rushed outside and swept her up in the yard.

Later, he learned she treated everyone close to her with the same thoughtfulness. Her kindness toward him stemmed solely from the fact that he was her boyfriend—it would’ve been no different for anyone else. Yet, he still considered it the perfect birthday.

The one who’d casually begun this game of love had lost from the very start.

The face downstairs—learning to dance with her younger siblings—overlapped with the one beaming joyfully in the snow that day.

In Ling Jue’s heart, the sweetness of the past intertwined with the present’s pain, love, and hatred.

Sounds came from outside the inn. He pricked up his ears.

A moment later, he left the balcony.

…

“Hurry, hurry! Aunt Zhou and the others are back!” Jiang Yuzhou, who’d just emerged from the restroom, waved frantically from a distance.

Still in their duck costumes, Qian Youyou and Qin Shuyi scrambled to find hiding spots.

Zhou Yunhe and Zhou Tinglan had only returned to fetch their hats.

Finding the inn completely empty, they muttered to themselves, assuming everyone had gone off separately to play—or orange-pick.

Meanwhile, Qian Youyou and Jiang Yuzhou, who’d bumped into each other, peered around nervously.

“Where did Shuyi go?”

Qin Shuyi had been intercepted.

…

Five minutes earlier.

In a dimly lit storage room, Qin Shuyi—searching for a place to hide—was abruptly yanked inside from the doorway.

Zhou Tinglan and Zhou Yunhe were still wandering the inn, checking whether anyone had stayed behind to join them for orange-picking.

The familiar scent of cedar enveloped her. Her headpiece and costume dropped to the floor. Trapped against the man’s chest, Qin Shuyi dared not move, listening to the commotion outside.

He pressed her firmly against the door, drawing dangerously close. His hot breath brushed her ear—sending a tantalizing, almost-touching itch down her spine.

“Let go,” she whispered sharply.

The storage room’s dim light obscured their expressions; only his low voice was audible.

“Qin Shuyi—you said ‘thank you’ last night.”

Qin Shuyi froze.

They’d agreed beforehand: if the other didn’t say “you’re welcome,” then another gesture would serve as repayment.

But that had been nothing more than a playful lovers’ game—sparked by passion.

Qin Shuyi quickly regained her composure and shoved hard against his chest. “We’ve broken up. It doesn’t count.”

Ling Jue’s frame nearly swallowed her whole. Unmoving, his gaze remained stubborn. “I didn’t say ‘you’re welcome.’”

Furious, Qin Shuyi snapped, “I could’ve handled the fall myself.”

Ling Jue ignored her. “If you’re going to weasel out—I’ll just collect myself.”

His warm lips met hers with surgical precision—carrying the force of a tidal wave.

From a light, tentative touch, to an entangling, obsessive exploration, then a forceful invasion—like a cunning hunter retreating just before being bitten, both sly and infuriating—followed by an even fiercer, bolder counterattack—until the metallic tang of blood tinged their lips.

*Slap!* A sharp sting landed.

Her foot lashed out at him with full force.

He deftly absorbed both blows with practiced ease.

In the murky shadows, he licked the blood from the corner of his mouth—seemingly unfazed—and smiled. “Just one slap?”

Qin Shuyi slapped him again—harder.

Ling Jue didn’t flinch, letting her vent.

“I told you—don’t appear in front of me again.”

He kissed her again, fierce and domineering, crushing her forcefully, the heat scorching them both.

Even when the corner of his lip was bitten and torn, he didn't retreat, stealing her breath in a violent, storm-like rush.

"Ling Jue, are you insane?"

He didn't speak, only kept kissing her relentlessly.

He was insane, had been driven mad long ago—driven mad by Qin Shuyi. He couldn't pretend nothing was wrong, he couldn't start over.

His life was branded with the name 'Qin Shuyi,' and he couldn't break free.

He had convinced himself to let go, to allow her to meet new people, and had struggled to suppress his desire to see her. But when she appeared before him with that radiant smile, all his efforts vanished into thin air.

Last night, knowing she was under the same roof, just a room away from him, she had no idea how hard he fought not to break down her door, not to become a thief in the night.

In his mind, he had even darkly plotted dozens of ways to take her away without alerting anyone.

His dreams were filled with countless visions of her in a nightgown, beneath him.

Enduring until now, not losing his composure in front of outsiders was the last shred of his dignity.

He, Ling Jue, was never a rule-abiding gentleman to begin with.

Qin Shuyi was like a little rabbit snatched up by a beast, suffocating in the turbulent, surging heat of the kiss.

*Slap!*

She hit him again.

"Don't make me hate you."

His eyes glistened with moisture. Just as during the most intense moments, he had only dared to hold her wrist without moving recklessly, now he froze in place.

Qin Shuyi slapped him once more. After being released, she picked up the fallen mascot head from the ground and began hitting him with it, blow after blow, putting all her strength into it.

Ling Jue endured the beating in silence.

When she grew tired, Qin Shuyi glared at him coldly. "Get out."

Ling Jue silently pulled open the door.

Before stepping out, he asked her, "Is your anger gone?"

Furious, Qin Shuyi grabbed the mascot costume and threw it at him.

It hit Ling Jue squarely in the face. He gathered the clothes, placed them neatly by the door, and left, his silhouette heavy and cold.

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