The word "divorce" hung in the air—and with it, the man's body tensed, a dangerous, suppressed aura radiating off him.
Fury flashed in his eyes so briefly, Jiang Zhi almost thought she'd imagined it.
But he quickly reined in his emotions, that overpowering presence softening—just a little.
Then he smiled, a slow, mesmerizing curve of his lips. "Sure. If I ever betray you, I'll leave with nothing. How's that?"
Shang Chi paused, his long, bony fingers trailing from her earlobe to her lips, calloused pads brushing her flushed mouth. "But you'll never get the chance."
His tone was lazy, but his gaze was sharp, predatory—like a hunter who'd already cornered his prey.
Jiang Zhi's heart skipped a beat.
For a split second, she almost believed he loved her deeply.
But no—men like him, perched at the top, simply couldn't stand anyone challenging their authority.
After a long silence, she steadied her voice and turned away. "Mr. Shang, let's not make empty promises."
Shang Chi's brow furrowed. His hand on her waist gave a light, punishing squeeze. "What did you call me?"
The sudden pressure made Jiang Zhi gasp—a sweet, breathy sound that slipped from her throat before she could stop it.
Mortified, she ducked her head, but he was already staring at her, half-lidded eyes drinking in her reaction.
The tension dissolved into something… warmer, heavier.
After a moment's hesitation, Jiang Zhi took a deep breath and whispered, "Ah Chi."
Intimacy like that still felt foreign to her.
Before he could react, she pushed him away, scrambling to her feet. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight."
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked to the bed, yanking back the covers to lie down with her back to him.
Shang Chi's lips quirked at the sight of her curled, stubborn silhouette. A faint, almost imperceptible smile.
That night, just like the one before, Jiang Zhi dreamt of a voice, a embrace—though this time, it only whispered "Goodnight" in her ear, tender and fleeting.
Her seven-day leave was up. The next morning, she woke early—but not early enough.
His side of the bed was already empty. The bathroom hummed with the sounds of him getting ready.
Jiang Zhi pulled back the covers, ready to get up—only to meet his dark, unreadable gaze as he stepped out of the bathroom.
They stared at each other, silent. He stood by the bathroom door in his sleepwear, watching her, unblinking.
The room was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Outside, birds chirped bright and clear.
His stare was too intense, making her fidget. Finally, she broke the silence. "Morning."
Shang Chi finally moved, stepping away from the door. "Morning," he replied, low and gruff.
Jiang Zhi slipped into the bathroom to freshen up. When she came out, he'd changed out of his sleepwear—into an all-black suit, down to the tie.
He sat on the sofa, back ramrod straight, one hand on a tablet, the other swiping, eyes half-lidded as he dealt with work.
His hair was styled in a neat side part, a strand falling over his forehead, brushing the frame of his gold-rimmed glasses—cold, elegant, untouchable.
Jiang Zhi noticed: he really loved black.
Not that she could blame him—black suited him, amplifying that oppressive, noble air he carried.
Her gaze lingered on him for two heartbeats, then she turned and headed to the walk-in closet.
The second she disappeared inside, his eyebrows twitched. His eyes followed her slim figure, unwavering.
When she emerged, she was in a sharp, professional outfit: a cream silk V-neck tucked into light brown wide-leg pants, hair loosely tied back, waist slender and delicate.
Her soft, feminine tones contrasted sharply with his stark black—but even so, her cool beauty held a quiet strength.
Shang Chi's eyes darkened. He stood, walking to her side, large hand hovering over her waist. "Let's go."
Jiang Zhi blinked, then nodded, understanding.
Together, they went down to the first-floor dining room.
He spent the entire breakfast waiting on her, attentive, almost doting.
Jiang Zhi reached for an egg, ready to peel it—only for him to snatch it first, deftly stripping the shell with a fluid, graceful motion.
When he handed it back, he leaned slightly toward her, voice low and rough. "Next time, let hubby handle this 'rough work.' Otherwise, Grandpa'll scold me. Understand?"
Jiang Zhi took the egg, cheeks flushing at the word "hubby." "Grandpa's not that petty," she mumbled, soft and coy.
Old Man Shang overheard, chiming in immediately, "Oh, but I am petty! If this brat ever treats you wrong, I'll scold him—and break his legs, too!"
Shang Chi shot Jiang Zhi a quick, raised eyebrow—as if to say, See? I told you so.
Despite herself, Jiang Zhi's chest warmed.
Even if his kindness was an act, this warm, harmonious family feeling… it was what she'd always longed for.
Maybe living with him like this wouldn't be so bad.
She lowered her voice, nodding. "I understand."
Watching them act all lovey-dovey, Old Man Shang was thrilled.
In his mind, the day he'd get to hold a little grandbaby was getting closer by the minute!
Shang Chi was in an unusually good mood that day.
Before leaving, he tucked a cigarette behind his ear and approached her, voice casual. "I've got a meeting at Tianheng Entertainment. I can give you a ride if you want."
Jiang Zhi was stunned—she'd already booked a car.
Checking her phone, she smiled awkwardly. "The driver'll be here in two minutes. I'll take a taxi. You go ahead."
Shang Chi's face fell. He lifted the cigarette to his lips, taking a harsh drag, then flicked it into the trash.
" Suit yourself," he said coldly, turning on his heel.
He strode out to a black Rolls-Royce, slamming the door behind him as he drove off toward Tianheng Entertainment.
Jiang Zhi sighed. She'd known he'd be upset.
Men like him, used to people scrambling to curry favor, offering a ride was a rare "gift."
She could have canceled the taxi—but she wasn't ready to go public. Riding with him would mean stepping out together, broadcasting their complicated relationship.
Too many people would talk. She didn't have the energy to explain.
More than that, this marriage had no emotional foundation. Who knew how long it would last? If they did divorce, better to keep things… clean.
Like with Jiang Qinian—she was grateful she'd never made their relationship public. Otherwise, walking away wouldn't have been so easy.
Twenty minutes later, Jiang Zhi arrived at Tianheng Entertainment.
The second she stepped into her office, she found a man sitting in her chair, back to the door, relaxed, almost arrogant.
He turned at the sound of her entering, voice warm and smooth. "Zhi Zhi, did you miss me these seven days?"