Chapter 3 (2/2)
He doesn’t need my help anymore? Tang Qiu was about to insist that she was just as capable of assisting him, when he interjected, seemingly anticipating her response, “Forgive me. I’d like to preserve a little dignity.” His gaze dropped to his bare legs, and for the first time, beneath his gentle and placid demeanor, she glimpsed a flicker of forlornness.
“Apologies,” she blurted out. “I didn’t think of it that way.” Helping him remove his pants was vastly different from helping him wear them; no doubt a man of Jiang Shaocheng’s status would be conscious of being reduced to such a vulnerable state in front of others.
Uncle Wang entered. His eyes widened when he caught sight of Jiang Shaocheng’s exposed legs. “Young Master! How could that woman have been so bold? What was she thinking? Did she force you?”
Jiang Shaocheng’s dark eyes flickered his way. He rose from the wheelchair, crossing the room in a few sure-footed strides to pull on a pair of trousers. Standing tall and upright in front of the full-length mirror, he took off his mask, and the false skin beneath it peeled away, revealing the cold, hard edges of his jawline–and a startlingly handsome face; a divine work of art, immaculately sculpted.
His gentle facade faded. When he spoke, his voice was full of cold command. “Go find out everything you can about Tang Qiu.”
His wife had claimed she had married him of her own accord. But what secrets did she hide? What circumstances had pushed her into making that choice?
…
There were plenty of servants in the mansion, enough that Tang Qiu need not lift a finger to perform any task herself if she so desired. Still, as a gesture of goodwill, she donned an apron and decided to personally make breakfast for her husband.
After she finished preparing the meal, she was about to go upstairs to call Jiang Shaocheng for breakfast when she heard the sound of the door opening. A man in a red suit walked in.
He caught sight of Tang Qiu, and surprise flashed in his gaze. “Are you a new cook? You’re a pretty one.” He closed the distance between them, taking her chin between his fingers and leering at her.
Tang Qiu pulled away, her expression darkening as she retreated backwards. “Who are you? Don’t touch me.”
A smirk stretched across the man’s face. “Why, I’m the second eldest son of the Jiang family, Jiang Ming. Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize me?”
“The second eldest son of the Jiangs,” Tang Qiu echoed with mockery, keeping her distance from him. “You think that gives you the right to paw me whenever you like? Stay away from me, or you’ll regret it.”