Chapter 3 Wife

Shang Youqing retreated to the side of the road with Butler Chen, holding an umbrella. A black car drove towards them, stopped slightly in front of her, and the back seat window slowly rolled down.

The sound of raindrops could be heard, and the faint scent of incense wafted out of the car.

The man sitting in the expensive leather chair was dressed in a suit and tie, with the cuffs of his black shirt rolled up on his forearms. He lowered his handsome and cold face slightly, reading a report without even raising his head.

Butler Chen took Shang Youqing half a step forward, nodded slightly, and respectfully reported Shang Youqing's identity and subsequent instructions to the head of the family in the car.

After listening to this, He Cong raised his eyes symbolically. Through half of the window glass, he could only roughly see a tall and straight figure under the umbrella. Without even stopping for half a second, his gaze fell back on the document in his hand. He said "thank you for your hard work" lightly, and the car window closed again.

Seeing Shang Youqing still standing under the umbrella staring at the departing car, Butler Chen explained, "Mr. Shang has always been rather aloof to outsiders. Miss Shang, please forgive me."

"No," Shang Youqing sniffed the air, "I feel like the smell in the car is a little familiar."

"Oh, that's probably because he recently went to the temple to worship Buddha and burn incense. I guess he got it there."

Shang Youqing suddenly realized and asked why she smelled a faint scent of burning incense.

Butler Chen asked the servant to take Shang Youqing to the small annex building to rest, while he rushed back to the main house.

As soon as I entered the door, I saw Mr. He standing under the stone pillar of the entrance, staring at two boxes of local specialties on the ground.

Butler Chen stepped forward to explain, "Sir, this is a small gift from Miss Shang."

He Cong's dark, calm eyes swept across the unknown dust on the box, and he said coldly: "Don't bring such unclean things in in the future."

Butler Chen said "yes" and immediately ordered his servants to take out the two boxes of specialties.

At this moment, intermittent violin sounds came from upstairs.

He Cong raised his eyes and glanced towards the piano room. "Is Momo practicing?"

Butler Chen nodded in response, then thought for a moment before adding, "The young master is still in a bad mood, so we won't let anyone in to disturb him."

The changes in the volume of the piano sound gradually became clearer as he came up from the elevator. The door of the piano room was not completely closed. He Cong hung his suit jacket on his arm and walked to the door to take a look.

He Zhimo sat on the piano stool in front of the bay window, his small hands skillfully playing the violin resting against his shoulder. His small face, with its drooping posture, bore some resemblance to the wife in his memory.

The sound of the piano in the room suddenly stopped. The little guy heard the noise and turned his head to look over.

He put down his violin, straightened the corner of his expensive clothes, walked up to He Cong with his legs stretched out, twisted a string of green sandalwood Buddhist beads in his small hands, and bowed to him properly.

"Dad, I've decided to move to Changci Temple."

“…”

He Cong watched his youngest son perform quietly.

"Dad, take good care of yourself when I'm not around."

The young master said this as if he was ready to die, picked up the bag he had packed early in the morning, and prepared to run away from home.

He Cong: "Ruibai's breeder came today. We'll probably be able to find Ruibai tomorrow."

Young Master He paused, his inky black eyes widening. He pretended to be calm, clutching the strap of his schoolbag and taking a small step back. His face was stern and serious. "I suddenly feel worried about Dad. What if Dad falls asleep at night and misses Mom so much that he becomes ill? I'm not leaving."

He Cong said expressionlessly: "Thank you, your father hasn't had a relapse in a year."

He Zhimo gently tugged at He Cong's clothes with his little hand and raised his head, "So can we really get Rui Bai back, Dad?"

"Yeah." He Cong lowered his eyes to glance at his youngest son, whose mood had obviously improved. His low and cold voice softened a little, "I'll take you to see it when the time comes."

At night, He Cong personally coaxed the child to sleep, then went to the study to deal with some matters before returning to the master bedroom.

After coming out of the shower, He Cong picked up the black Buddha amulet on the bedside table, lowered his eyes and looked at it silently for a while, wiped it clean with his fingertips, and tied it back around his neck.

The room was filled with the sleep-inducing scent of sandalwood. When the lights were turned off, the sound of rain outside the window seemed to be amplified a lot.

He Cong closed his eyes, and as expected, he dreamed of his wife who had died in the sea of fire three years ago and whose body was never found.

In the middle of the night, He Cong suddenly opened his eyes.

His black eyes were moist, staring blankly in the direction of the door.

The emotions that are usually restrained and suppressed are silently vented in the darkness of the night.

He Cong mechanically opened the door and walked slowly in the direction of the vague and faint familiar scent.

·

"Aqiu."

Maybe it was because it was still drizzling outside, Shang Youqing couldn't help but sneeze as soon as he walked into the guest room on the first floor where he was assigned.

She poured herself a cup of hot water and took a few sips to warm herself up a little. She took out her cell phone from her backpack and called her baby who was far away in Ning City. She also informed him that she might have to delay her return for a day.

The rain was still falling, and the night on Bindao Island seemed to be filled with a bone-chilling chill.

Shang Youqing was a bit sleepy to begin with. After washing up, she lay on the bed and chatted with her baby for a while before she felt sleepy. She didn't even notice when she hung up the phone and fell into a deep sleep before she knew it.

It was not until midnight that Shang Youqing was awakened by a loud thunder outside the window. He turned over and tried to continue sleeping. He faintly heard the sound of the door edge gently hitting the wall and a cool breeze blew in.

Did you forget to close the door when you went to bed just now?

Shang Youqing rubbed his eyes, got up from the bed, opened his eyelids, and suddenly took a breath.

The head of the He family, who was sitting in the car during the day, dressed neatly in a suit, handsome and indifferent, and didn't even look at people, was now wearing a loose nightgown, with his short black hair hanging down messily and softly, wet with moisture and raindrops. He was sitting by Shang Youqing's bed, staring at her without blinking.

Seeing that look, Shang Youqing felt an inexplicable pain in his heart.

Shang Youqing didn't know why this man came here so late at night, nor did he know how long he had been sitting here. He could only pretend to be calm and lean on the bed and ask, "Mr. He, what are you doing here?"

He Cong was still looking at her intently. His calm and sharp eyes seemed to have melted a thin layer of ice in this rainy night, and he looked at her deeply.

After a while, he answered her somewhat dejectedly: "I don't know either."

Shang Youqing frowned slightly, and suddenly realized something. He raised his hand and waved it in front of his face, but He Cong did not move at all.

Is this... sleepwalking?

Shang Youqing had not expected that such a human elite would suffer from sleepwalking.

Just when he was thinking of calling someone to take him back, He Cong was caught off guard and suddenly buried his head in Shang Youqing's lower abdomen.

Through a layer of cotton cloth, He Cong gently arched his face against the thin, soft and narrow waist and abdomen, his hot breath sprayed, and he murmured two words indistinctly.

"Wife..."

"?"

Shang Youqing came to his senses instantly, kicked the man out without thinking, and locked the door.

Before coming to Yanyuan, she had heard Old Yan talk about the head of the He family, and naturally knew some rumors about him.

But she never expected that this man would mistake her for his deceased wife while sleepwalking...

There was a crackling sound of rain outside. Shang Youqing had just picked up his phone when he heard a light and heavy collision against the door panel.

She slid open the screen, walked calmly to the window, slightly opened the curtains, and then caught a glimpse of this scene.

He Cong leaned his head against the door. The rain outside the archway splashed on him along the wind direction. He was drenched in the rain, gently knocking his head against the door, and calling out in a hoarse voice.

"Honey, I'm a little cold."

Shang Youqing finally found the number of Butler Chen, whom he had just added during the day, but after hearing the muffled complaint, his fingers curled slightly and did not press it immediately.

She stared at He Cong and couldn't tell that Mr. He missed his deceased wife so deeply.

Just when she came to her senses and was about to call Butler Chen, He Cong suddenly stopped banging on the door. He stood quietly outside the door, his body straight as if he was standing there as punishment, or as if the computer had broken down.

After a while, He Cong turned around silently and left her room with steady and mechanical steps.