Su Kexing's matter ended.
Deven redirected focus to the rings. "Mrs. Shang—Mr. Shang designed these, I only gave basic advice."
"You're lucky—to marry a man who adores you."
Jiang Zhi looked at Shang Chi—shock, disbelief.
He met her gaze—hot, intense, like a wolf eyeing prey.
Silent stare—tension, intimacy.
Deven left—space for them.
Jiang Zhi: "Why?"
Why design rings? No emotional foundation. Why their initials? Not necessary.
Shang Chi: Didn't answer—adjusted, picked up a ring.
He held her left hand, slid the ring onto her ring finger—perfect fit, custom-made.
Light gold—glowed on her fair skin.
The 'C' initial—sharp, mysterious, High-end.
He stroked the ring, voice neutral. "Married you—will treat you well. No need for 'whys.'"
He took the other ring—'Z'—placed it in her palm.
His voice: low, husky, seductive. "Build this home with me—yes?"
Enchanted, she agreed: "good."
He extended his hand. "Put it on for me."
She slid the ring onto his finger—he clasped her hand, eyes deep.
He looked at her fox eyes. "Wear it always—six months, I'll keep my promise."
"But—no 'single' persona for my wife."
Jiang Zhi: "I understand."
They left FK, returned to the Rolls - Royce—driving through Bustling streets.
Jiang Zhi: "Not going to Old House?"
Shang Chi: "Too far from the company—staying at Courtyard No. 7."
She: used to Old House —quiet, away from the city. Mr. Shang was kind, like her grandpa—post-dinner chess, TV.
But Courtyard No. 7was closer—10 mins vs Old House's 30 mins.
She hesitated—but Courtyard No. 7was their home.
At Courtyard No. 7 —villa lights on.
Jiang Zhi: "Why lights?"
Shang Chi: "Hired someone—housekeeper."
Aunt Zhang—50+, kind—greeted them. "Welcome home, sir, madam."
Shang Chi: "Aunt Zhang—handles meals, daily life."
Aunt Zhang: "Madam—any needs, tell me."
Jiang Zhi: "Thank you— Hard."
Inside—spotless, cleaner than she'd kept.
Bedroom corridor—two rooms:
His: all black, cold—like him.
Hers: warm cream, pink bed—personal touch, Girl's thoughts.
Jiang Zhi: Blushed—exposed inner self.
Shang Chi noticed the pink bed—raised a brow, subtle.
She tried to leave—he grabbed her wrist, pulled her close.
He looked at her, voice low. "Which room tonight?"
She pointed to hers—thinking separate rooms.
He: "Sure?"
She nodded.
He: Gold - wire glasses flashed—darkness. "Then I'll shower."