Mr. Bigshot Is Obsessed with His Hidden-Marriage Wife

Nangong Yan sniffled and walked over, squatting in front of him, her small face glistening with moisture as she looked up.

She exuded a literary air, her pajamas were also in a fresh, simple style, not revealing at all.

But as she squatted down, slightly tilting her head back, the continuous curve from her neck to her chest was even more provocative than exposure.

Fu Xingzhou gently wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes with a tissue, yet his eyes lacked any hint of desire.

"You're an artist, how could you injure your hand?"

"I heard that Mr. Fu's hometown is in Yulian Village in Hong Kong, and it so happens that a friend I know was born there too. He said that the green fish soup is a sentimental tie for every Yulian person, so I presumptuously learned to make it, hoping to cook it for Mr. Fu." Nangong Yan said, a tinge of grievance in her voice, "But I'm clumsy, not only did I fail to make the soup, I scalded my hand. It's fine if my hand is injured, but if it ruins Mr. Fu's big plans, then it's my fault."

Fu Xingzhou listened to her emotionally charged confession, his expression unchanging. After Nangong Yan finished her last sentence with some trepidation, he finally spoke somberly.

"If you know it's wrong, try to be more careful next time." His hand holding the tissue patted her face twice, not heavily, but enough to sober Nangong Yan up a bit.

In fact, it was his lack of expression that left her baffled, uncertain of his true feelings for her.

If he cared, he would have surely taken the opportunity to treat her with tender care.

Yet after wiping her tears, he used such an action to awaken her from her dream.

Nangong Yan knelt directly on the ground, her helpless demeanor eliciting even more pity, "Mr. Fu..."

At that moment, a clap of thunder from outside the window sounded as if it could split the heavens and the earth.

Nangong Yan let out a shriek and threw herself into Fu Xingzhou's arms, "I'm afraid of thunder."

She embraced Fu Xingzhou's lean waist, and through the fabric, she could almost feel the firmness of his muscles and their robust tension, surrounded by his crisp masculine scent, intoxicating and addictive.

The thunder rolled, a tumultuous roar as if a thousand horses were charging, followed by a sweep of a great hand, as rain poured down in torrents.

Fu Xingzhou glanced out the window.

He remembered a time when it was also stormy like this, and after he went to take a shower, he came out to find Ye Yan wrapped in a blanket, curling up shivering.

When he pulled back the blanket, she leaped into his arms like clutching at salvation, like a little squirrel.

She always kept her distance from him, but that time, she clung to his waist, unwilling to let go for even a second.

It seemed like she was very afraid of thunder.

Nangong Yan sensed Fu Xingzhou's suddenly tense body and secretly rejoiced.

He was a man, and confronted with such an offer, he couldn't remain unaffected, especially since he was known to be affectionate and a playboy.

She should be thankful for the thunderstorm.

"Mr. Fu, the rain is heavy, why don't you stay tonight?" Nangong Yan's face pressed against the man's shirt as she softly negotiated, "In this weather, it's not safe for you to go back. You sleep in the bedroom, I'll sleep on the sofa..."

The hands that were wrapped around the man's waist were suddenly, one by one, pried off, the strength not gentle.

Nangong Yan was taken aback, looking up in confusion.

Fu Xingzhou's noble features were deep and indifferent in the play of light and shadow, not a trace of tenderness or affection to be found.

Nangong Yan grew more flustered, "Fu, Mr. Fu."

"Miss Nangong, do you sell yourself with every partnership?" Fu Xingzhou's tone was mild, but each syllable was laced with sarcasm.

"No, I didn't." Nangong Yan hastily waved her hands, "It's just that, I'm grateful that Mr. Fu is willing to invest in my art exhibition, and I wanted to do something within my means to repay you."

Nangong Yan was about to say something more when Fu Xingzhou stood up. The sofa rebounded with a slight warmth.

He tossed the tissue in his hand into a wastebasket nearby, as lightning streaked across the glass window, making his features appear even sharper.

"Miss Nangong, if you applied the skill you use to seduce men to your painting, perhaps your art exhibition would have reached the inland by now."

Nangong Yan's legs went weak as if she had been struck by lightning.

"I'm picky with my food; I don't sleep with just any woman." Fu Xingzhou leaned in and tapped Nangong Yan's forehead twice, "With someone like you whose brain rattles like a water jug at a shake, I'm afraid I might catch something if I slept with you."

Faced with Fu Xingzhou's naked humiliation and disgust, Nangong Yan finally let her tears burst forth.

It was a long time before she nervously picked up her phone.

"Sister Fang, I might have made a mistake." Nangong Hua curled up on the sofa Fu Xingzhou had just been sitting on, her face pale as a sheet.

After hearing Nangong Yan's account, Sister Fang's voice became shrill, "Why did you take matters into your own hands again? You, you're really killing me."

"They say Fu Xingzhou is a playboy, right? The women around him are as numerous as the fish crossing the river; in what way am I inferior to them?" She wanted to become Fu Xingzhou's woman more than she wanted the art exhibition, so she took the risk to try her luck.

"Neither you nor I understand Fu Xingzhou, and he hates women who play games the most. The tactics you think are clever are nothing but a clown's antics in his eyes." Sister Fang sighed, "Get some sleep, and I'll call Assistant Sun tomorrow."

It was difficult persuading Fu Xingzhou to invest in the art exhibition; they couldn't let all the efforts go to waste.

She really felt like Nangong Yan's stupidity was going to kill her.

~

The wind was wild, rain lashed down, and with thunder following one clap after another, lightning split the night sky, cloaking it in chilling white light.

The car drove along the wide road, splashing up large swathes of water.

Fu Xingzhou sat in the back seat, glancing at his watch.

"Sir, Dasanba Street is closed off," the bodyguard looked at the navigation system; Dasanba Street was the essential route to Yuqiao. He quickly checked the traffic broadcast, "The wind has broken two large trees that have fallen right in the middle of the road. It will take about two hours to clear for traffic."

The sound of raindrops hitting the car window made Fu Xingzhou a bit restless. He took out his phone and called Ye Yan.

The phone buzzed, its sound accompanied by the thunder outside.

Underneath a thin blanket on the bed, Ye Yan curled up, hugging her arms and shivering nonstop.

Thunder, lightning, and strong winds; such weather was not frequent in Ao City, but it always came unexpectedly.

When she was ten years old, the weather was just like this. That night, Ye Zhun had a high fever, convulsing, while Ye Jian'an played mahjong all night.

She carried Ye Zhun to the clinic, and on the way, she saw a neighbor returning late.

He was greeting her when lightning suddenly struck with thunder, burning him to a crisp right in front of her, collapsing and smoking. On the brink of death, he reached out his charred hand to her, clutching at a sliver of hope.

Little Ye Yan, terrified, dropped her umbrella, running and crying, "Someone's dead, someone's dead."

The thunder roared as if chasing her, a death-dealing specter right on her heels.

After reaching the clinic, she fainted after uttering just one sentence, waking up three days later.

The kind doctor told her she had been feverish, concerned she wouldn't pull through.

During those three days, Ye Jian'an just came for a glance and then turned back to the mahjong parlor, leaving the kind doctor to care for them.

Little Ye Yan, with her voice hoarse from crying, continuously thanked the doctor while holding her brother tight in her arms.

It was from that moment on, she developed a fear of thunderous, windy days and also made a silent vow to herself that she would become a doctor in the future, to save those walking on the edge of despair.

The phone kept ringing, but all Ye Yan could hear was the continuous peal of thunder and the fear that threatened to strip away her sanity.