Chapter 7 — Kissing the CEO by Mistake, Winning the Ideal Husband

Through the glass of the peephole, a face etched with deep anxiety came into view. It was Silent Shen. Why had he come here? I had just opened the door and barely managed to utter a syllable when my limbs turned to water, and I collapsed. In the final, fleeting moment before consciousness slipped away, I fell into a warm, unyielding embrace. When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself lying in a sterile hospital room. The ceiling was blindingly white, heavy with the pungent aroma of antiseptic. As I stirred slightly, I realized the back of my hand was connected to an IV drip.

You are finally awake?

A familiar voice resonated beside my ear. I turned my head to find Silent Shen seated right next to the bed, slowly stirring a bowl of porridge. He looked as though he had spent the entire night awake; dark shadows bruised the skin beneath his eyes, and the stubble on his chin had grown in, lending him a slightly haggard air. Yet, his striking handsomeness remained entirely undiminished.

Why are you...

My calls went unanswered. I was worried sick, so I came over to check on you. He blew gently on a spoonful of porridge and brought it to my lips. Open wide.

Instinct took over, and I complied. The warm porridge slid smoothly down my throat, bringing an immense wave of comfort.

I used the spare key you gave me, he added by way of explanation.

Only then did a memory flicker back—when we signed our contract, to facilitate his impromptu inspections, I had handed him a spare set. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined they would be put to use under such circumstances.

Your fever was nearly forty degrees Celsius. A little later, and you would have been fried into an absolute fool, he muttered grumblingly as he continued to feed me.

Though his words sounded harsh, the genuine care underpinning them was unmistakable. Watching his clumsy yet earnest efforts to tend to me, the softest part of my heart gave a gentle flutter. This man did not seem quite as cold and unfeeling as I had once believed. Once the bowl of porridge was finished, a modest surge of strength returned to my limbs.

Thank you, I murmured softly.

Expressing gratitude yet again? He furrowed his brows, clearly averse to the word. Aside from thanks, is there truly nothing else you wish to say to me?

A sudden impulse to tease him welled up inside me.

Indeed there is. Do be sure to reimburse my hospital fees, as our contract certainly did not encompass medical emergencies.

My remark coaxed a chuckle out of him.

Is there anything besides money residing in that head of yours?

Naturally, I replied with a straight face. Work.

He shook his head in helpless defeat, then reached out to press his palm against my forehead.

The fever has broken.

His palm radiated warmth. Once again, a wave of heat rushed to my cheeks. I remained hospitalized for a single day before Silent Shen handled my discharge procedures the following morning, brought me home, and personally ventured into the kitchen to whip up what he described as a highly nourishing concoction. Gazing at the pitch-black pot containing unidentifiable ingredients, I fell into a profound silence.

What exactly is this? I inquired cautiously.

Something to restore your vitality.

I sampled a single bite—the flavor proved nearly impossible to describe. Yet, I gritted my teeth and forced down a large bowl. After all, this marked the very first time he had ever cooked for me. Following my recovery, the dynamic between Silent Shen and myself seemed to inch closer still. He no longer brandished the contract as a convenient excuse at every turn. Instead, he would wait for me to finish work, whisk me away to screenings of newly released films, and accompany me on leisurely strolls through my favorite flower boutique. We grew increasingly indistinguishable from an actual couple. A fleeting illusion even began to take root within me—perhaps we truly could walk side by side down this path forever. Yet, fate invariably favored striking me with a devastating blow precisely when happiness felt most secure. While toiling away at the office that afternoon, a phone call from my mother shattered the illusion.

Wan Wan, your father and I have arrived in the city. Head back home immediately.

My heart seized.

Why on earth did you both come up here so suddenly?

Your brother is preparing to get married. Her family is demanding a betrothal gift of three hundred thousand, not to mention a proper apartment in the city. As his elder sister, you cannot simply stand by and shirk your responsibility toward him.

My scalp prickled with sheer dread. Here it came again. The exact same old routine. Drawing a deep breath, I forced my voice to remain even.

Mother, I do not have that kind of money.

How can you possibly claim not to have money? You toil away in a major metropolis, earning such a handsome salary! Her voice instantly pitched into a shrill screech.

My earnings barely cover my survival.

Lin Wan! Stop playing games! He is your own flesh and blood brother; if you refuse to lend a hand, who will? Did we raise you all these years just to enjoy life by yourself? I care nothing about your excuses; you must produce these funds! Otherwise, I will simply end my life right here before your eyes!

With those words, she severed the connection. Gripping the phone tightly, my entire body turned freezing cold. Such was my family. My biological parents and my biological brother. In their eyes, I existed solely as a cash machine to be wrung dry without end. My dreams and my future held not an ounce of value when weighed against my brother's matrimonial demands. Taking a leave of absence, I drifted back home in a daze. The moment I unlocked the door, I found my parents and my fully grown brother sprawled across the sofa. The cramped rented apartment had been thoroughly ransacked, looking as though a hurricane had swept through.

You have finally returned! My mother lunged forward. Where is the money? Has everything been prepared?

Gazing into her avaricious features, I felt nothing but profound nausea.

I stated quite clearly, I have no money.

You ungrateful wretch! Vile creature! All those years of raising you went completely to waste!

While heaping curses upon me, my mother began striking me wildly. My father merely stood nearby puffing on a cigarette, while my brother kept his head lowered, absorbed in his phone as though none of this concerned him in the least. I offered no resistance, nor did I shed any tears. A crushing weariness was all that remained. A fatigue so profound I wanted nothing more than to flee this suffocating household altogether. By the following day, they had escalated the spectacle by marching directly to my workplace. My mother seated herself squarely in the middle of the lobby, beating her thighs as she wailed aloud:

Everyone, come look at this! Behold this thoroughly unfilial daughter! Living in luxury in the big city while refusing to lift a finger for her own brother back in the countryside!

I sacrificed endlessly to raise her through unimaginable hardship, and now she refuses to part with a mere three hundred thousand! Where is the justice in this world!

Colleagues crowded around, pointing and whispering among themselves. Standing amidst the gathered throng, I felt like a criminal subjected to a public trial. My face burned with intense humiliation, every shred of dignity trampled ruthlessly into the dust. Snow White materialized from somewhere in the periphery, standing at a distance with her arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with malicious glee. I knew full well that tomorrow, gossip regarding my destitution and the blood-sucking nature of my family would echo through every corner of the company. My life seemed to have been driven into a dead end. Raising my gaze toward the overcast sky visible through the window, for the very first time in my existence, I experienced a bone-chilling, absolute despair.

7

Just as I found myself besieged from every direction, pushed to the very brink of complete collapse, a hand suddenly reached out from within the crowd, firmly steadying my swaying frame. Turning my head, I caught sight of Silent Shen. He must have arrived moments before, hastily slipping off his own suit jacket to drape securely over my shoulders, enveloping me completely. It formed a barrier against every single scrutinizing and pitying gaze.

Do not be afraid. I am here.

He leaned close to my ear, uttering those four simple words. The dam broke, and tears instantly flooded my eyes. He asked not a single further question, merely taking my hand and guiding me away through the surrounding onlookers, leading me straight to his car. Once inside, he handed me a bottle of water.

Drink some water and collect yourself.

I accepted the bottle without drinking, instead clutching it fiercely in my hands.

You had to witness such a shameful spectacle, I whispered, my voice completely hoarse.

This is not your fault, he said quietly.

It is their fault.