chapter 14
Chapter 14: The Exhibition of Pride, The Call from the Wife
Plum Rain Chronicles
The He household erupted into chaos, though none dared voice their objections in front of the patriarch. For a long moment, only the ticking of the grandfather clock filled the opulent sitting room.
He Wenli's latest message lit up the screen: [Grandpa, are you still there?]
Old He's reply came like a thunderclap: [Marriage? You dare mock me with this farce?]
[I'm serious.]
[Get back here this instant!]
[You think this family has no place for you? Take the household register and leave! Don't drag your feet and annoy me further. If you truly wish to disappear, mail the damn thing!]
[He Wenli, you bastard——]
[...]
Unaware of the storm brewing in her husband's world, Zhong Shuning napped fitfully until dusk. The rain had stopped, but the air hung heavy with unspoken tensions.
Zhang Ma bustled through the kitchen, preparing dinner. "The master's been in Beijing all day," she remarked casually, kneading dough for dumplings. "His younger uncle's causing quite the scandal again."
Zhong Shuning froze mid-wash. "His uncle?"
"The third young master," Zhang Ma lowered her voice. "Rumors swirl about his... extracurricular activities. The old master disapproves, of course."
Extracurricular activities. The phrase echoed in Zhong Shuning's mind. She'd heard whispers of He Wenli's reputation as a ruthless businessman, but this?
"Does Mr. He have... any siblings?" she ventured.
Zhang Ma paused, then sighed. "Only half-brothers. His mother died young, leaving him the sole heir. His father—our current master—has three sons, but none match the third young master's... notoriety."
Notoriety.
The word painted a vivid picture. Zhong Shuning imagined He Wenli's childhood—shuttled between grandparents, estranged from a father who favored his legitimate sons, raised by a stepmother who saw him as a threat. No wonder he'd honed his skills in ruthless negotiation.
"Children," Zhang Ma continued brightly, "will make this house lively. The master's been pushing for heirs, but the third young master..." She trailed off, her meaning clear.
Zhong Shuning's mind raced. An heir. The very thought made her stomach churn. Had she agreed to this marriage without truly understanding its implications?
Her phone buzzed—a call from Zhou Boyu.
"Harassment call," she told Zhang Ma, swiping to block it.
But when two unknown numbers followed, she silenced them all. The weight of her choices pressed down—abandoning Zhou Boyu, aligning herself with He Wenli, a man she barely knew.
"He's arrived in Beijing," Zhang Ma said suddenly, eyeing her curiously.
"Who?"
"Mr. He. Should I inform him you inquired?"
Zhong Shuning's cheeks flushed. "No. I... I don't have his contact information."
A lie, but Zhang Ma didn't press.
Beijing Nightlife
In a private lounge reserved for the elite, He Wenli's presence dominated the room. His phone buzzed incessantly—security feeds, stock updates, encrypted messages.
"Sir, the divorce papers from Zhou's camp are here," Chen Zui whispered, placing a dossier on the obsidian desk.
He Wenli's smile was razor-thin. "Schedule the press conference."
As Chen Zui retreated, He Wenli's gaze drifted to a framed photo of Zhong Shuning in her ballet recital gown—the same one she'd worn the night he'd rescued her from the rain. His thumb traced the edge of the frame.
Still naive, he mused.
The Uninvited Guest
The door burst open, laughter spilling in like toxic fumes.
"Gentlemen! Care to hear the latest scandal?" A man in a tailored suit swaggered in, clapping He Wenli on the back. "Old He's been disowned! The old master threatened to erase him from the family tree!"
He Wenli's expression didn't flicker. "Interesting."
"You're not surprised?"
"No."
"Come on, admit it! You're loving this." The man leaned in, lowering his voice. "Bet you're planning to divorce that puppet wife of yours and claim the family fortune!"
He Wenli's gaze turned glacial. "Leave."
The man paled but laughed nervously. "Just joking! Let's toast to your new marriage!"
As he poured whiskey, He Wenli's phone rang—Zhong Shuning's number.
"Mrs. He," he answered smoothly.
"Is... is this inappropriate?" she hesitated.
"Not at all." His tone softened imperceptibly.
"Are you in Beijing yet?"
"Arrived hours ago. Why?"
Before he could respond, the lounge door swung open again.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" The man from before pointed at He Wenli, grinning. "Our prodigal son's here! Spill the beans—what did the old man say when you showed up with your new bride?"
Silence fell.
He Wenli rose, his silhouette towering over the room. "Celebrating my union," he announced, raising his glass. "To my wife."
The room erupted in stunned silence.
"W-wife?" someone spluttered.
He Wenli's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Surprised?"
The word hung like a challenge.
Across town, Zhong Shuning stared at her untouched dinner, her reflection fractured in the windowpane. She'd married a stranger, gambled with her future—and now, the world would watch as He Wenli turned their arrangement into a spectacle.
But in the shadows, a plan unfolded. One that would make puppets of them all.