Chapter Fourteen: He Will Never Love Her

As soon as Qiao Wan’er pushed open the door, she saw Ye Zehong coming out of the bathroom, bare-chested, a towel wrapped around his waist, another towel in his hand as he dried his hair. His long legs were muscular and powerful, his handsome face flushed by the steam, and under the warm light at the bathroom doorway, the scene was indescribably alluring.

Such a sight had haunted her dreams countless times.

Now, happening right before her eyes, her heart pounded, her body flushed with heat, her cheeks burning red, her mind sluggish, as if tipsy from wine.

For a moment, she forgot everything.

Ye Zehong glanced at her coolly, seizing the initiative with a cold, distant question, “It’s so late—where did you run off to?”

“I…” Qiao Wan’er was caught off guard. After a few seconds, she composed herself. “Just now, I saw your leather shoes in Sister Hua’s studio storeroom. You were hiding behind the boxes, weren’t you?”

Ye Zehong’s face remained cold and silent as he looked up at her.

Her hand trembled slightly. Lowering her voice, she said, “My father mentioned you and Sister Hua don’t get along. As your fiancée, I should stand by you unconditionally. If there’s anything I can help you with in the future, I—”

“It seems Miss Qiao’s memory isn’t very good.” His icy words cut her off.

Those three words—Miss Qiao—stabbed her heart, her shoulders sagging and her eyes instantly dimming.

Ye Zehong’s tone was emotionless. “I should thank you for stepping in, but I ask you to remember our agreement. I gave you the title of Second Lady of the Ye family, but I will never love you, nor will I touch you. Also, do not interfere in my affairs on your own accord. I have my reasons for everything I do.”

Qiao Wan’er was left speechless, wilting like a frostbitten eggplant.

A month ago, Ye Zehong had suddenly accepted her Nth confession. She’d been happy for only a few seconds before a bucket of cold water was thrown over her.

He agreed to marry her with great ceremony, but on the condition that, until he seized control of the family, she play the role of Second Lady of the Ye family perfectly.

He also made it clear he would never love her, nor lay a finger on her.

If she broke the agreement, everything would return to how it was.

Qiao Wan’er was furious, but she was also afraid of losing this chance, afraid she would never again receive a glance from Ye Zehong.

She had loved him for so many years, loved him to the point of madness.

Even a marriage in name only was better than nothing.

At least, to the outside world, she was the future Second Lady of the Ye family.

She tried to keep her voice steady. “Ze Hong, you know, all these years, I’ve only ever loved you. It’s because I love you that I want to share your burdens and help you take charge of the Ye family as soon as possible. Everything I do is for you. I have no intention of overstepping; I just—”

“Then keep to our agreement.”

“All right.”

Ye Zehong lay down on the sofa and said, “I’ll sleep here,” turning his back to Qiao Wan’er.

Her heart ached, and she collapsed weakly onto the edge of the bed.

All the beautiful hopes she’d harbored on the way home shattered the instant he turned his back on her.

But she would not give up so easily.

She believed that one day, he would be moved by the depth of her love, and she would see herself reflected in his eyes.

…

At dawn, Lu Yao was awakened by the chirping of birds.

Drowsily opening her eyes, she stared at the unfamiliar surroundings for several seconds before regaining her senses.

She sat up at once to check the wound on her arm.

Fortunately, she’d applied antibiotics the night before, so the swelling had gone down, though the injury was still obvious. She needed to change into something clean that would cover the wound.

Just as her feet touched the floor, someone knocked on the door.