Volume One, Chapter Two: The Spirited Husband Has Taken Offense

For Sang Haining, it made no difference whether Rong Shaoqin came back or not.

Rong Shaoqin did not like his wife; he was even repulsed by her.

Rather than a married couple, they were more like roommates who shared the same bed.

To this day, Sang Haining still preserved her virginity.

Yet she was not heartbroken.

She knew their marriage would not last long; all she needed to do was fulfill her duties as a wife and have a clear conscience.

The freshly changed sheets were dry and neat, filled with the scent of sunshine.

Sang Haining pulled up the covers and fell into a peaceful sleep.

In the middle of the night, the door suddenly slammed open.

Startled, Sang Haining was grateful she had left the light on.

Her eyes immediately caught sight of Rong Shaoqin standing by the door.

He wore a pure black silk shirt and trousers that hugged his strong upper body and straight legs.

His tall, upright figure loomed in the dim light, exuding an inexplicable pressure.

Sang Haining paused for a moment, then slightly leaned forward. “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t come back?”

Rong Shaoqin’s eyes flickered. “What, are you unhappy that I’m back?”

A flash of surprise crossed her fair face. “I’m not unhappy. I just wasn’t prepared.”

“Prepared for what?”

“I made you some hangover soup, but it’s probably cold now. I’ll go warm it up for you.”

With that, Sang Haining stepped past him toward the door to go downstairs.

Though the house was warm, she was dressed lightly.

Rong Shaoqin said in a low voice, “I’m not drinking it.”

He brushed past her and lay down on the bed.

His face was weary.

He often got headaches after drinking.

As usual, Sang Haining pressed her fingers to his forehead, her hands aching from the effort but refusing to stop.

Rong Shaoqin rested his head on her lap, his breathing gradually steadying.

Just as she thought he had fallen asleep, he suddenly opened his eyes and stared fixedly at her, his gaze filled with an emotion she could not decipher.

Sang Haining paused. “What is it?”

“Don’t you get tired of pretending?” Rong Shaoqin sneered coldly.

Her delicate brow furrowed slightly. “Shaoqin, you’re drunk.”

“Arranged marriage without love, a distant husband and wife—you don’t need to feign affection.”

He couldn’t deny that Sang Haining’s gentle tenderness was something he appreciated.

She was a virtuous wife—caring, attentive, cooking soups for him.

Even small things like tying his tie, she did herself.

She never checked up on him.

She was obedient, beautiful, and well-behaved—almost the ideal wife any man would desire.

Yet the more she was like this, the more irritated Rong Shaoqin became.

Especially when he recalled the conversation between the two investors at the dinner party earlier that day.

He suddenly realized Sang Haining didn’t care about him at all.

If she didn’t care, why be so good to him?

Understanding Rong Shaoqin’s meaning, Sang Haining lowered her eyes but met his gaze with calm honesty.

“My father abandoned me and my grandmother. It was you and Grandma who helped find the best hospital for her. I am grateful.”

There was, of course, a more crucial point she had yet to mention.

In truth, Sang Haining was most grateful to Rong Shaoqin for the title of “Mrs. Rong,” which afforded her enough funds to partner with friends and start a company.

Though the invested capital had yet to return, everything was progressing steadily.

She believed that soon, through her own efforts, she would be able to cover her grandmother’s medical expenses.

By then, even if she divorced Rong Shaoqin, she would still have a way out.

Hearing her explanation, Rong Shaoqin’s irritation did not subside; it only intensified.

He did not want her gratitude.

Without another glance at Sang Haining, he left with a cold expression.

Sang Haining felt helpless at Rong Shaoqin’s sudden mood swings.

She brightened the light and took a book from the nearby drawer.

The cover bore a few bold golden words: On the Self-Cultivation of a Wife.

For the past year, Sang Haining had faithfully followed the book’s advice, dutifully fulfilling her role as a wife.

Except for failing to bear a child for the Rong family, not even Rong Shaoqin’s stepmother—her sharp-tongued mother-in-law—could find fault with her.

So why had she suddenly angered Rong Shaoqin?

Only a few days ago, things were fine.

Sang Haining flipped through the book repeatedly but remained puzzled.

She called her secretary again, telling him that Rong Shaoqin was very upset and asking what had happened.

During the call, her nose twitched, and she sniffled.

The secretary thought she was crying.

Not wanting to pry into his boss’s private affairs, he answered formally: “After the dinner party, Mr. Rong’s mood has been rather poor.”

Sang Haining was even more confused.

By all rights, the Rong family was so powerful that even the city of Liao would tremble at their name. Who would dare to upset Rong Shaoqin?

Sang Haining felt the problem might lie with herself.

Just as she was about to hang up, the secretary suddenly added, “I recall Mr. Rong seemed even more upset after speaking with you.”

This left Sang Haining even more bewildered.

Had she said something wrong?

So, in the middle of the night, she sent a message to her friend Shen Chuyi on WeChat: Emergency! I upset the boss and now I’m at risk of being fired.