Chapter 271 Of course, it’s to make money to support my wife

Fu Linghe's heart trembled when she suddenly called him "husband", and his Adam's apple rolled unconsciously.

The morning light shines through the beige gauze curtains into the bedroom, and tiny dust particles dance in the beam of light, making the scene seem particularly gentle.

He looked down at the coquettish little woman in his arms, the tenderness in his eyes almost overflowing.

"Sleep a little longer?" Fu Linghe stretched out his hand and stroked the soft hair. His voice was a little lower than usual, with the hoarseness that was unique to waking up in the morning.

"Message me when you wake up and I'll have a masseur come over and give you a good massage."

The man's warm palm slid down her slender waistline and gently held her ankle, which was slightly sore from walking too much yesterday. "Does it still hurt?"

Yun Zheng rubbed against his arms, finding the most comfortable position like a satisfied cat.

She buried her face in his chest, breathing in the refreshing scent of cedar mixed with the faint bitter aroma of coffee.

"Hmm..." She made a vague nasal sound, her voice still lazily filled with the morning air, "What about you?"

"Me?" Fu Linghe chuckled, the vibration of his chest coming through the touching skin.

He deliberately rubbed the top of her head with his chin, which was covered with blue stubble, causing her to exclaim softly, "Of course I'm going to make money to support my wife."

As he was about to get up, his silk robe rustled against the sheets.

Yun Zheng suddenly reached out and her slender fingers accurately hooked the belt of his pajamas.

Fu Linghe raised his eyebrows and looked at the young wife who suddenly acted like a spoiled brat.

The morning light danced on her porcelain-white face, making her watery almond-shaped eyes look particularly bright.

"Mrs. Fu, are you going to keep me here?" He lowered his body deliberately, and a shadow fell over him.

Yun Zheng could clearly see the small mole on the bridge of his nose, which was faintly visible in the open collar as he breathed.

Yun Zheng blinked, her long eyelashes casting tiny shadows in the morning light. "Can't you... stay with me for five more minutes?"

Her fingertips gently hooked his belt, accidentally brushing against his tight abdominal muscles, and her voice was so soft that it could squeeze water out of him.

Fu Linghe's eyes suddenly turned dark, like the dark sea before a storm.

He suddenly leaned over and pressed her into the soft mattress, his hot breath spraying into her ear. "Five minutes is enough for what? Huh?"

The rising tone at the end of the voice made Yun Zheng blush instantly, and a faint pink color spread from her ears to her collarbone.

"I just want to hug you for a while!" She reached out and pushed him, but when her palm touched his chest, she shrank back because of the scorching temperature.

"Oh?" He deliberately dragged out the last word, his bony fingers gently tucking the corner of the quilt for her. "Then Mrs. Fu must keep her word."

After saying that, he really just held her in his arms and patted her back gently, as if he was coaxing a child who refused to fall asleep.

The sunlight filtered through the gauze curtains, casting mottled shadows on them. The only sound in the room was the intertwining breathing of each other.

Yun Zheng counted his strong heartbeats and suddenly wished that this moment could last indefinitely.

After a moment, Fu Linghe glanced at his watch. The dial shone coldly in the sunlight. He pinched her nose helplessly: "Five minutes have passed."

Yun Zheng reluctantly let go of her hand, but he took the opportunity to steal a kiss on her lips.

The kiss came suddenly and briefly, like a butterfly flitting across petals, but it made her heart skip a beat.

When Fu Linghe stood up, the collar of his nightgown was slightly open, and the morning light cast a honey-colored luster on his muscular chest.

Yun Zheng's eyes involuntarily followed the well-defined abdominal muscles until they were covered by the nightgown again.

Her ears felt hot and she quickly looked away.

"When you wake up, eat something before you get a massage," he instructed as he fastened his tie, his slender fingers moving nimbly through the dark blue silk. "I'll finish my work at the company and be back soon. Message me if you want something to eat and I'll bring it to you."

Yun Zheng lay on the pillow and watched him get dressed.

The man put on a crisp white shirt with his back to her, his shoulder blades rising and falling under the fabric with his movements.

The suit pants wrapped around his straight long legs, and the belt buckle made a crisp "click" sound.

She was completely absorbed in the situation and didn't hear clearly what the man was saying. She just smiled foolishly and nodded in response.

When Fu Linghe turned around, he caught her infatuated gaze, and his cold brows softened instantly.

He leaned over and rubbed the top of her head, and finally just smiled fondly, "Little fool."

——

The carved gate of Tanxiyuan slowly opened. After Fu Linghe's Cullinan drove out of the villa area, it did not drive towards the Fu Group as usual. Instead, it turned the car around and drove straight to the Junlan Hotel in the east of the city.

The morning breeze in late winter was slightly cool, and it blew up the sycamore leaves on the roadside and hit the car windows.

Inside the car, he held the steering wheel with one hand and dialed Assistant Qi's number with the other.

The car's fragrance system exudes a light jasmine scent, intertwined with the lingering cedar scent on his body.

"Postpone my schedule for today." His tone was flat, but left no room for doubt.

Special Assistant Qi was stunned. "Mr. Fu, but the international video conference at 10:30 is with Country A..."

"Let the vice president take charge." Fu Linghe interrupted him, his eyes fixed on the traffic jam ahead. "I have something to do."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, and Assistant Qi quickly responded, "Okay, Mr. Fu. Is there anything I can arrange?"

"No need." Fu Linghe said calmly, his gaze sweeping across his slightly tired eyes in the rearview mirror. "Don't alarm the Mo family for now."

After hanging up the phone, his eyes darkened slightly and his fingertips tapped lightly on the leather steering wheel.

In the presidential suite on the top floor of Junlan Hotel, the aroma of tea wafts through the air.

Old Master Mo sat on a sandalwood chair beside the floor-to-ceiling window, his vigorous fingers slowly stroking the edge of the celadon teacup.

"He's here." Mo Shi'an put down his phone and spoke softly, as if he was afraid of disturbing the fragrance of tea in the room.

The old man nodded, his wrinkled hands holding the teacup steadily.

His cloudy yet sharp eyes were reflected in the tea. "Fu Linghe is calmer than you!"

When Fu Linghe pushed the door open and walked in, Mo Shian was standing next to the ink-painted screen.

Their eyes met, and the air suddenly became tense.

Fu Linghe raised the corner of his lips in a half-smile, and walked straight past Mo Shian with one hand in his pocket, his suit trouser legs bringing up a sharp wind.

"Mr. Mo." He nodded slightly, his posture seemed respectful, but there was a sharpness in his eyes that could not be ignored.

The sunlight shone in from behind him, making his shadow long and slender, yet oppressive.

The old man looked up at him, the tea swaying gently in the cup. "Sit down."

He pointed to the seat opposite, where the carvings on the rosewood chair shone with a warm luster in the sunlight.

Fu Linghe sat down calmly and took the tea poured by the old man himself with his slender fingers.

The tea was clear, reflecting his calm features.

"Tomorrow, we will return to Country A." Mr. Mo spoke slowly, tapping his knuckles on the sandalwood cane. The grain of the huanghuali wood glowed a dark gold in the sunlight.

Fu Linghe played with the celadon cup nonchalantly, the glaze flowing between his slender fingers.

Hearing this, he just raised his eyebrows, touched the rim of the glass with his thin lips, and let out an ambiguous chuckle as his Adam's apple rolled.

"Zheng Zheng chose you, and we respect her decision." A sigh was embedded in the old man's wrinkles.

Fu Linghe suddenly put the teacup on the coffee table and looked at the old man with a smile.

Amid the crisp sound of bone china hitting tempered glass, he crossed his long legs, leaving sharp creases on his trouser legs.

The sunlight poured in from the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, giving his tall outline a layer of arrogant golden edge.

The old man pounded the ground with his cane. "But if one day you let her suffer even the slightest injustice..."

"Mr. Mo." Fu Linghe suddenly interrupted, tapping his knees with his fingertips.

When he raised his eyes, they were filled with an obsidian-like light, and the corners of his lips were slightly curved. "My wife doesn't seem to recognize you yet?"

The air suddenly froze.

The old man's knuckles turned white as he gripped his cane.

Fu Linghe stood up slowly, and every wrinkle of his handmade suit revealed a sense of noble coldness.

He put one hand in his pocket and looked down at the old man, his voice wrapped in an icy smile, "Zheng Zheng and I are on the same household registration. I, Fu Linghe's wife—"

The last line of the sentence was raised dangerously, "Is it someone else's turn to teach me how to protect myself?"

The old man's cloudy pupils reflected the fluttering corners of Fu Linghe's clothes as he turned around. His back was so arrogant that even light and shadow avoided him.