Chapter 3: Preposterous
Qin Yan ran a newspaper.
She really was a woman of the pen—she spoke with perfect clarity.
On the way back to the villa, she briefly explained her relationship with the Lan Family to Cheng Tianxun.
“I’m Lan Changming’s daughter. My mother was in poor health when I was born, so I stayed in Yicheng with my grandmother, raised by a wet nurse. My parents and older brothers were all in Nancheng.
I couldn’t really talk yet at three, so my grandmother gave me the childhood name ‘Qinyan.’ The Ye family next door had a little girl a few months older than me. She was a smooth talker, clever and quirky, and my grandmother adored her.
Mrs. Ye knew how to work people. She suggested swapping the kids to raise for fun.
Mrs. Ye liked me too. She took me south to visit relatives, and my grandmother agreed. Then unrest broke out in Yicheng. The family got worried and brought my grandmother back to Nancheng. That’s how we got separated.
When I was seven, I saw my grandmother again. She told the Ye family she couldn’t bear to part with their daughter, so why not treat it as both families having two kids? Swap them for now, and when it came time to marry, both families would provide a dowry.”
Cheng Tianxun slowly turned his head, looking at her as she recounted all this with total indifference.
“From age seven on, I was called Ye Zhishu. The other girl was called Lan Muhe,” Qin Yan continued. “The Ye family changed drastically. Mr. Ye lost two wives.
At fourteen, I stole two big gold bars from his study and ran. After that, I relied on friends. If my chief editor hadn’t caused trouble and nearly gotten me killed by the Garrison Bureau, I wouldn’t have bothered the Lan Family.”
Cheng Tianxun listened in silence. After a long while, he summed it up: “So neither family wanted you?”
That stung a little.
Qin Yan remained perfectly calm. “Yes.”
“Chief of Staff Lan even arranged a marriage for you. Not bad.” Cheng Tianxun said whatever he pleased, completely indifferent to anyone’s feelings.
Qin Yan: “He gave me a check for twenty thousand silver dollars as a dowry. He did his duty. But he told me not to go to the Lan house. He was afraid his daughter couldn’t handle it.”
Cheng Tianxun: “You got two big gold bars from your first dad, and twenty thousand silver dollars from this one.”
One big gold bar was roughly ten thousand silver dollars.
Very fair.
Qin Yan nodded. “A life worth forty thousand silver dollars. Expensive.”
Cheng Tianxun didn’t care much. “Good enough. People are starving to death everywhere these days.”
Qin Yan: “I think so too.”
The car pulled up to the villa. Just as Qin Yan was about to tell the maid to prepare a late-night snack, Cheng Tianxun scooped her up into his arms.
Suddenly airborne, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
The intricate crystal chandelier in the living room blazed brightly. The light caught his eyes, making his gaze heavy. His thin lips pressed together slightly, the muscles in the arms holding Qin Yan bulging.
Qin Yan: “...”
The man was strong. He carried Qin Yan like she weighed nothing, striding upstairs.
The Western iron bed had four brass posts hung with milky white lace curtains—pretty, but they didn’t block the light.
Lamplight and moonlight mixed together inside the canopy. Cheng Tianxun’s hand tightened on Qin Yan’s waist. His palm was scorching, like molten lava.
“I was thinking last night, you look good wearing a diamond necklace,” he said, reaching for the jewelry box already placed under her pillow.
A modern necklace, exquisitely crafted.
She was healthy and full-figured, her skin snow-white, glossy and luminous. Her complexion made the diamonds’ sparkle even better.
He fastened it around her neck.
Sure enough, she looked more beautiful. A few rays of light seemed to catch in her eyes, shimmering as if about to shatter.
“Thank you,” Qin Yan said.
Her voice was soft, faint as early winter frost. Not sweet or clingy, yet inexplicably soul-stealing.
Cheng Tianxun watched her, scorching fire churning in his eyes. His hard chest rose and fell slightly as he kissed her.
When things reached their peak, Qin Yan hugged him tight, her teeth sinking into his shoulder.
She seemed to be crying, mumbling indistinctly: “It wasn’t me.”
Cheng Tianxun didn’t hear clearly, because just then the bed suddenly sank, and he went down with it.
After a while, Qin Yan panted lightly, her voice choked as if holding back tears: “The bed leg broke again.”
Cheng Tianxun: “This crappy bed. That’s the second one. I’ll have someone bring an old-style canopy bed tomorrow.”
A canopy bed was like a little bunker. It wouldn’t break easily.
But the bedroom was filled entirely with Western furniture, including the crystal chandelier overhead.
“No, it won’t match the decor.”
“Then not on the bed next time?” He stroked her collarbone.
Qin Yan: “Fine.”
She went to take a bath. When she came out in her robe a while later, she saw Cheng Tianxun pushing the door open wearing only trousers, bare-chested, carrying two steaming bowls of wontons.
“Hungry,” he said.
Qin Yan pointed at the call bell by the bed. “You can have the servants bring it up.”
“Too lazy to wait,” he replied.
Servants slacked off too. Going down to wait himself meant getting what he wanted fastest.
The master bedroom was a suite with a small sitting room outside, containing a sofa, tables, and chairs.
The couple sat down to eat.
Qin Yan was hungry too, eating without a word.
“Let’s sleep in the guest room tonight,” Cheng Tianxun said. “I’ll have someone change the bed tomorrow morning.”
“Where will you sleep?”
“In the guest room with you,” he answered.
Qin Yan agreed.
After silently finishing her wontons, Qin Yan looked like she had something to say.
Cheng Tianxun drank every drop of his broth before saying, “Spit it out.”
“I bought a small mansion,” Qin Yan said.
“How much?”
“Three thousand nine hundred silver dollars,” Qin Yan said. “On Hongxia Road. Ten minutes’ walk from the mansion to my newspaper office.”
“Good price. Land alone on Hongxia Road goes for two or three thousand. Not expensive,” Cheng Tianxun said.
“Aren’t you going to ask why I bought a house?”
Cheng Tianxun, full, pulled out a cigarette and lit it, smiling. “You’re not my subordinate. You don’t need to report everything to me.”
Qin Yan told him anyway: “I thought you wanted a divorce. Once you brought it up, I couldn’t keep living here. Scrambling at the last minute is undignified. I like to plan ahead.”
She added, “Since it was a misunderstanding, if you mind, I’ll have my secretary sell it for me.”
“Don’t mind. Keep it.” Cheng Tianxun slowly exhaled smoke. “This whole thing started because of me. I’ll pay for the house.”
“No need, I have money.”
“What do new-school ladies say? Give a man a chance to be a gentleman,” he said.
Qin Yan: “...”
“Oh right, when I bought the necklace, I grabbed a bracelet and earrings too,” Cheng Tianxun added. “Try them on if you like them.”
“Thanks.”
The couple slept in the guest room that night.
The bed was smaller, and Cheng Tianxun pressed close to Qin Yan. Early August was still a bit hot, and he was like a furnace, so Qin Yan couldn’t sleep.
She thought of quite a few things.
Luo Qisheng’s face when they parted merged with his face when they reunited, leaving Qin Yan feeling like time itself was scrambled.
“...Why are you crying?” Cheng Tianxun suddenly touched her eyes.
Qin Yan dodged away.
She felt the tears herself.
“Did I hurt you earlier?” he asked again, pressing his body against hers, his breath brushing the back of her neck.
Not exactly gentle, but not rough or annoying either.
“No. The diamond necklace dug into my back and left marks. It hurt a little at the time,” Qin Yan said.
Cheng Tianxun knew it was an excuse.
But it was late, he was quite sleepy, and he didn’t want to dig deeper. He pulled her into his arms, his fingers gently kneading her back.
Qin Yan slowly drifted into dreams.
Early the next morning, Cheng Tianxun went to the military government for a meeting as usual. He always woke up earlier than Qin Yan.
Qin Yan went downstairs to eat.
She was calculating matters regarding the newspaper office in her head, and replacing the bed in the master bedroom.
Adjutant Qian handed her a check. “From the Young Marshal.”
Qin Yan remembered him talking about being a “gentleman” last night and found it a bit funny.
Seeing the amount on the check—one hundred thousand silver dollars—Qin Yan stopped laughing.
Adjutant Qian explained: “The Young Marshal says this is your living expenses. To make up for this past year.”
Qin Yan: “...”