Can’t Even Take Care of Your Own Woman

Tang Mianmian didn't walk far before her body gave out. Her strength faded, her lower abdomen throbbed with pain, and the world around her began to spin.

She knew she was about to faint.

It was the same feeling she'd had back in school during P.E. class. Just as she was about to collapse to the ground, a gentle, clear voice called out.

Long Yecheng had been driving by when he saw the slim figure ahead. He called out twice, but she didn't respond.

Just as he was about to get out of the car to approach her, she staggered, then collapsed.

"Sis-in-law!" He rushed forward and caught her as she hit the ground, panic flooding his voice. "Sis-in-law, are you okay? Sis-in-law—"

"Madam! Madam—!"

Xu Quan, arriving by car, saw the scene and jumped out in a hurry, his voice filled with alarm.

Long Yecheng acted immediately. "Quick, drive to Nianyuan! I'll call the doctor."

Xu Quan nodded frantically and followed his instructions.

Once Tang Mianmian was settled in bed and the doctor confirmed he was on his way, Long Yecheng finally relaxed a little. Still staring at her bloodless face, he asked anxiously, "Why did she faint?"

"I'm not sure. She didn't look well this morning," Xu Quan replied. "She went to Huayuan, but didn't come back for a long time. Just a while ago, the young master called and asked me to pick her up."

Long Yecheng's brows furrowed. "Why didn't she drive herself?"

"She drove there this morning, but she didn't come back with the car. I don't know why." Xu Quan looked just as confused.

He had watched her drive away earlier—how could she be walking now?

Long Yecheng's expression turned colder, his lips tightly pressed, eyes locked on the pale figure lying on the bed.

Xu Quan went downstairs and called Long Yejue. As soon as he said one sentence, the line went dead.

Meanwhile, an important board meeting was suddenly interrupted when Long Yejue stormed out of the conference room.

An Yi stared at the slammed door, stunned for a moment.

"What happened?" Cindy asked, startled.

An Yi paused, then said firmly, "It must be something about the missus. This meeting's over—let everyone go."

Cindy understood and quickly went to inform the others.

—

Long Yejue raced home like a man possessed.

The moment he heard from Uncle Xu that she had fainted, it felt just like when he found out she'd been kidnapped—tight, panicked, as if an invisible hand was squeezing his chest.

He had never felt like this before. He only wished he could teleport to her side.

What should've been an hour-long drive took him half an hour.

He ran every red light on the way—nothing was more important than Tang Mianmian now.

When he got home, the doctor had just finished examining her.

Everyone was shocked to see Long Yejue so flustered and anxious—it was like seeing a different man.

"How is she?" he asked immediately, eyes full of worry.

The doctor took off his stethoscope and reassured him, "It's just a fainting spell caused by physical weakness. Nothing serious. I'll give her some glucose and prescribe some tonics."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

No one more than Long Yejue.

It was as if the darkness that clouded his world had finally lifted. He sat beside the bed, holding her hand, his gaze fixed on her pale face.

The doctor and housekeeper went to fetch the medicine, leaving only Long Yecheng and Long Yejue in the room.

Watching his older brother so devoted to Tang Mianmian made Long Yecheng's eyes narrow. A faint glimmer passed through his deep gaze. "You're always like this—can't even take care of your own woman."

Long Yejue's eyes narrowed dangerously, the chill spreading.

Fortunately, Long Yecheng didn't say anything more. He gave him one last look before silently leaving Nianyuan.

—

Long Yejue stayed by the bed the entire time, watching over the IV drip and waiting for her to wake up.

She finally stirred in the late afternoon.

Even Long Zhenfei had come to check on her briefly and left after a few concerned words.

But Long Yejue never left—not even for a moment. He hadn't let go of her hand once.

The moment she opened her eyes, he leaned in and asked urgently, "How do you feel? Are you uncomfortable anywhere?"

Hearing his concern, Tang Mianmian felt warmth rise in her heart. She forgot their earlier conflict and shook her head gently. "No, I'm okay."

"Okay people don't faint," he scolded—though his voice was more worried than angry.

She could hear the care behind the words and asked softly, "Weren't you at work? Why did you come back?"

"What could possibly be more important than you?" His voice lowered, full of emotion.

Her heart quivered.

He had never said he loved her, never uttered those words—but in moments like these, she could feel it.

She swallowed hard, unable to speak.

Long Yejue gently ruffled her hair, his tone softening. "Get some more rest. I'll check what there is to eat."

She nodded, then shook her head suddenly.

He chuckled when he saw her gripping his hand tightly, unwilling to let go.

"What is it?"

"You were scary last night," she finally confessed. It had been weighing on her.

Long Yejue sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper."

"You wouldn't even let me drink yogurt. You took it away from me."

"I won't do it again," he said with a resigned smile. "Drink as much as you like—just not during your period."

Tears welled in her eyes as she nodded. "You didn't even let me explain."

"My fault. All my fault…" he admitted patiently.

"Let's not be like that anymore, okay?" she finally said, unable to hold it in.

Grandpa was right—a step back brings open skies.

He was right, after all.

Such a Long Yejue—Who Else Has Ever Seen This Side of Him?

This humble posture, that gentle tone... Had anyone else ever seen this side of Long Yejue?

Tang Mianmian's anger quietly faded. With reddened eyes, she muttered, "I'm hungry."

Long Yejue chuckled softly, relieved to see the color returning to her cheeks. He leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her forehead before saying, "I'll go see what food we have."

"Okay."

As soon as he left, Tang Mianmian blushed and pulled the covers over her face, shy beyond belief.

That moment just now—she almost thought she was drunk on sweetness.

It felt like the fight from the previous night had somehow deepened their relationship.

Though there had been hurt, didn't it also prove how much he cared?

That's how it should be, right?

Still, his possessiveness ran deep in his bones. It was no longer the cold indifference from before—it was a kind of overbearing intensity she'd never seen.

Just as she was spiraling into her thoughts, Long Yejue returned, carrying a tray of food. Seeing her pink cheeks, he raised a brow. "What were you thinking?"

"Nothing…" she quickly shook her head, afraid he might read her mind.

He didn't press. With a faint smile, he pulled the table closer and laid out the delicate dishes. "These are all for nourishing your blood and energy. Eat more, and stop fainting every other day."

"You make it sound like I did it on purpose…" she grumbled in embarrassment.

But inwardly, she was grateful. When she had opened her eyes earlier and seen the deep concern on his face, she had been truly moved.

"If you hadn't mentioned it, I might not have noticed. Maybe you really did faint on purpose," he teased.

"I am not that petty!" she huffed.

He simply gazed at her, eyes soft and full of indulgence, saying nothing.

Though her stomach growled, Tang Mianmian had no appetite for the herbal meals laid out in front of her. They might've been made with good intentions, but they didn't look the least bit tasty.

She looked at him with teary eyes. "Can I eat something normal instead?"

"You need to eat these for at least three days to recover properly," he said lazily, arms folded.

"What? Three days?"

She wanted to cry.

"I've compromised with you so many times today. This time, you listen to me." His tone left no room for negotiation.

Tang Mianmian looked like she'd been wronged by the whole world.

Reluctantly, she forced herself to eat. But when it came to the medicinal soup at the end, she just couldn't do it. She looked at him pitifully, hoping he'd take mercy.

But Long Yejue ignored her completely, eyes cast downward as he focused on the soup.

Feeling hopeless, she pushed it away. "I really don't want to drink this."

"Want me to feed you?" He sat down, stirring the soup casually.

"Can I just skip it?" she tried her last bit of resistance.

He glanced at her, unmoved. "Can you bear to waste Grandpa's good intentions and Uncle Xu's effort?"

He knew her soft spots too well—just one sentence, and she had no argument left.

But the soup really did look… awful.

As a true foodie, forcing herself to eat something she didn't like was its own kind of suffering.

"It's at the right temperature now. Open up," he said, spoon held ready.

She saw an opening and tried to wriggle out of it. "Why don't you drink it for me? That way, we don't waste food or hurt anyone's feelings. And it'll show what a kind and noble man you are. What do you think?"

Her sparkling eyes looked hopeful, like a child offering a clever trade.

Long Yejue narrowed his eyes slightly, then replied in a low voice, "What I want to eat… isn't this."

"What is it then?"

He gave her a long, meaningful look.

That look made her scalp tingle. Her face burned.

What does that look mean?!

Was he implying he wanted to… eat her?

Without another word, she picked up the bowl and started drinking the soup by herself.

No joke.

Compared to that, the soup suddenly wasn't so bad after all.

Seeing her reaction, Long Yejue laughed softly, lips curling in amusement. His voice was low and seductive, "You really don't want me to eat you?"

"Cough, cough, cough—!"

She immediately choked.

Is this man even human?!

How can someone say something like that while someone's trying to eat?!

—

After eating, Tang Mianmian felt much better. Her body began to warm up, and she lay lazily on the bed, eyes half-closed.

Long Yejue's figure moved around the room now and then...

The feeling was subtle but comforting, like something soft and warm slowly blooming in her heart.

She could hear everything he did.

The sound of running water from his shower… the soft rustling as he towel-dried his hair...

When his phone rang, he quickly silenced it—probably afraid of disturbing her.

Through half-lidded eyes, she watched him step out onto the balcony to take the call.

His voice out there was completely different from how he spoke to her.

With her, he was indulgent, affectionate.

On the phone, he was distant and cool.

He spoke only a few short sentences—about a postponed meeting, it seemed—before hanging up.

When he came back inside, Tang Mianmian quickly shut her eyes again, pretending to be asleep.

He stood by the bed for a moment, then turned and left the room, as if going to handle something else.

Left alone on the bed, Tang Mianmian opened her eyes, her gaze full of disappointment.

Was he going out this late… again?