Chi Wu lived a cautious, quiet life for three years, thinking he had finally weathered the storm. When Yingzi found out that the teacher had a girlfriend, her reaction wasn't overly dramatic.

Chi Wu thought things would settle down afterward; once they started university, the focus on that teacher would essentially vanish.

But just as he thought he was in the clear, something happened at the graduation party. The moment Chi Wu saw the teacher's clueless girlfriend raise an eyebrow at Cheng Ying, he knew trouble was brewing. Others might not know Cheng Ying, but he did—she was the type who couldn't tolerate others' happiness, especially regarding that woman, who was practically an enemy in Cheng Ying's eyes.

Even with Chi Wu watching Cheng Ying without blinking, things still went wrong. Chi Wu couldn't process what happened next; according to many classmates, what was supposed to be a beautiful song sounded, to Chi Wu at that moment, like a death knell.

If there was a melody Chi Wu detested most in his life, it was probably that one. Chi Wu could only silently pray that the teacher and his girlfriend would share an unbreakable bond.

He had genuinely never been so benevolent. May the lovers find eternal bliss. Chi Wu believed he was at his kindest and most devout self at that time.

He turned to see Cheng Ying and knew he had snapped. The thoughts in his mind were impossible to shake off. By the time Chi Wu regained his composure, things had already happened.

Chi Wu didn't regret it, especially waking up in the same covers as Cheng Ying; he regretted nothing. He thought then that he had become the embodiment of a romantic hero. If Cheng Ying had rejected their future, Chi Wu would have preferred his world to freeze over right then and there.

It wasn't that he couldn't live without other women, but without Cheng Ying, Chi Wu absolutely could not live well, or happily.

Things developed exactly as Chi Wu had feared. Seeing Cheng Ying filled him with guilt, but more so with resolve. For every measure of guilt, there was a measure of determination to be with her. At that time, Chi Wu felt like he was constantly being tortured until they were officially engaged, recognized by everyone in the village.

Chi Wu felt the dust had settled; from then on, Yingzi would be his.

A deep sense of relief washed over him. Yingzi would never know that was the most peaceful night he had slept since starting high school. Even though they were in the same room and nothing happened, Chi Wu felt utterly content just watching Cheng Ying sleep.

When Cheng Ying was asleep, Chi Wu certainly wanted to be close to her, but toward her, he held a reverence that bordered on the sacred. As he often said himself, he lacked the self-assurance; looking at Cheng Ying sincerely, he dared not make a move—not because he was incapable, but because he truly feared taking that step.

The first time Cheng Ying mentioned marriage to him, though Chi Wu maintained a calm exterior, heaven knew how ecstatic he felt inside, harboring a sense of, I finally waited for this day, and Cheng Ying actually reached this point.

Before marrying Cheng Ying, Chi Wu had constantly held a scornful view of her—scornful of her lack of vision, scornful that she couldn't see the gold beneath the jade, scornful that she couldn't recognize his own excellence and good looks, all wrapped in a cloak of frustration.

It wasn't until they actually got their marriage certificate that Chi Wu felt a pang of bittersweet emotion. The office worker, seeing such a handsome young man on the verge of marriage, looked at him with such tearful, bashful hesitation that she genuinely felt a sympathetic urge to refuse the union on Chi Wu's behalf. The young man must have been forced into marriage by the girl, considering how the girl beside him looked, as if the young man was somewhat unwilling.

Facing Cheng Ying's gloomy look, Chi Wu grabbed her hand and unceremoniously dumped five or six pounds of wedding candies on the counter. They had truly never seen such generous newlyweds; usually, handing over two pieces as a formality would suffice, yet he had placed down two enormous bags. Was he willing or not?

Cheng Ying asked him then, "Are you deliberately embarrassing me? Are you making a scene to cover something up?"

Chi Wu raised an eyebrow at Cheng Ying, his eyes full of suppressed warmth, kissed her cheek lightly, and pulled her away, deliberately walking through the most crowded areas. Cheng Ying said Chi Wu was flaunting the marriage certificate, but Chi Wu just smiled, never letting go of the document.

Cheng Ying had no idea how hard Chi Wu was restraining himself. If they had been in a confined space, Chi Wu feared he wouldn't be able to hold back and would have pulled Cheng Ying into the bridal chamber immediately.

He didn't know why, but ever since he saw the large, crimson stamp placed over their photo, Chi Wu felt an impulse—an impulse that had been present since adolescence, but now it was ferociously strong.

It was an urge practically bursting out of him just looking at that red booklet. Chi Wu never realized he was such a law-abiding person, only to realize that after guarding his wife for so long, he had been waiting for this single legitimate moment.

Was this truly his character, Chi Wu's?

Marrying Cheng Ying was something he had desired since he first understood the difference between men and women. Regardless of the reason Cheng Ying married him, for Chi Wu, it was Heaven's greatest favor bestowed upon him.

Even if it had been an arranged marriage, Chi Wu never believed his lineage was that significant. His understanding of his ancestors came solely from Cheng Ying taking him yearly to pay respects at her parents' graves. Therefore, he never considered the opinions of the Chi family matriarch or patriarch to be an issue.

If Yingzi only wanted to have one child with him, Chi Wu wouldn't have minded.

Perhaps Heaven favored him, and Cheng Ying was capable; she ended up having two at once, handling everything.

Chi Wu was young when he became a father and didn't find it novel at first, but watching Cheng Ying's sometimes unreliable behavior, Chi Wu had to become a responsible parent, taking charge of the children's needs. He even felt fortunate that there were enough elders in the family so the children weren't lacking in love; otherwise, they might develop psychological scars.

As the children grew, the Old Madam's health steadily declined. Every time Chi Wu saw Yingzi secretly wiping away tears, his heart ached uncontrollably. When had his wife ever felt so powerless? But facing life and death, it truly wasn't something they could decide.

Chi Wu didn't know how to comfort his wife, so he could only have the children distract her. It wasn't that Chi Wu couldn't handle the children's matters, but he wanted them to draw Cheng Ying's attention away. The Old Madam growing old pained Chi Wu too, but apart from her, his wife had him, her husband, and two children.

Chi Wu dreaded to think what would happen to Yingzi if the Old Madam passed away. After all, the Old Madam had been with Yingzi for so many years; no one understood the Old Madam's significance to Yingzi better than Chi Wu—she had even altered something as major as attending university because of her.

When the Old Madam was lucid, she would often grip Chi Wu's shoulder, muttering about the past, her worries, and repeatedly instructing Chi Wu: not once, but many times, not to bully Yingzi, and certainly not to let anyone else bully her.

Chi Wu would seriously promise the Old Madam every time. How could he ever bully Yingzi? Even less would he allow anyone else to harm her.

Chi Wu told the Old Madam when his feelings for Cheng Ying first sparked and how deep those feelings ran. To comfort the Old Madam, and as a form of self-analysis, he didn't lie; his devotion to Cheng Ying was profound.

During that time, the Old Madam would drift between understanding and confusion, even managing to tap Chi Wu's shoulder, "You rascal, you're too wicked! I've let the wolf into the house! My Yingzi! How many times did I wrongly accuse her back then?"

However, when Yingzi returned home, neither mother nor daughter ever brought up those conversations. When the Old Madam finally succumbed to complete confusion, not only Cheng Ying wept, but Chi Wu also shed tears behind his wife's back, with the children nearby.

Chi Wu felt a bond with the Old Madam deeper than with his own grandmother, as they had endured the hardest times together, the three of them.

For many years, Chi Wu had spent more than half his time by the Old Madam's side.

In Chi Wu's view, before the children came, the Old Madam, himself, and Cheng Ying were the closest people. But he was a man; Chi Wu had his wife and two children relying on his shoulders now.

Chi Wu wiped his tears and went to comfort his wife, while also making sure the Old Madam attended her regular check-ups.

When the Old Madam was truly fading, Chi Wu held his wife tightly throughout the night. It wasn't just his wife who was heartbroken; Chi Wu was too. Without the Old Madam, his pursuit of his wife would have been much more arduous.

Fortunately, the Old Madam had a strong constitution and could hold on.

Chi Wu was a very capable man. If he didn't want trouble to find Cheng Ying, there wouldn't be anything to vex her, especially regarding his private matters. But Chi Wu had a childish impulse: he actually enjoyed watching Cheng Ying deal with his messy affairs, particularly the issues caused by other women surrounding him.

Seeing Cheng Ying send away those clingy, shameless women who specialized in breaking up families gave Chi Wu a strange sense of satisfaction. He needed Cheng Ying to be anxious about him, needed her to know what he looked like in the eyes of other women. Otherwise, his wife wouldn't see how good he was.

Chi Wu wanted Cheng Ying to like him more, and then like him even more. Thus, women frequently appeared in Cheng Ying's life—strange, inexplicable women.

Even Chi Wu's assistant found it odd. How could such a capable CEO constantly attract drama to bring home? It certainly didn't align with the CEO's usual conduct.

If his competence had declined, that would be one thing, but as time went on, the assistant realized: the CEO harbored a peculiar, secret taste for trouble.

After all this time, who couldn't see it? If they couldn't see it, then the CEO was actually a bit perverse.

It wasn't until the Old Madam could no longer distinguish friend from foe and caused embarrassment for Cheng Ying at home that Chi Wu curbed his behavior. Although he had never been interested in any other woman, he just liked seeing his wife busy because of him. If she showed a little jealousy, that would have been even better.

Despite his slight dark humor, Chi Wu never intended to humiliate Cheng Ying. Therefore, he loathed that specific woman the most.

Even if Cheng Ying hadn't said anything, Chi Wu wouldn't have kept such a person as a colleague. The mere thought of her made him sick.

The Old Madam was near the end, and Chi Wu dared not take his eyes off his wife. Fortunately, Yingzi was much calmer than Chi Wu had anticipated.

During that period, Chi Wu constantly feared his wife might collapse. He kept the two children circulating around her daily, hoping Yingzi’s heart would hold some concern for the three of them, that she would consider living more for their sake.

After the Old Madam's funeral rites concluded, Chi Wu had visibly lost over ten pounds. People said Chi Wu was dutiful and missed the Old Madam dearly. Only Chi Wu knew that during that time, while grieving for the Old Madam, he was simultaneously terrified for Cheng Ying, burning like a candle at both ends.

Cheng Ying noticed Chi Wu was thin and made him bone broth. Chi Wu held his wife's hand for a long time without letting go, wanting to say: I don't care how much weight I lose, as long as you are well and thinking of me like this, that's enough.