Chapter 1282: Don’t Make It Hard for Me, I Can’t Do It

He took a step forward and, before she had a chance to step back, gently touched her cheek with his fingers, then chuckled lightly, “Don’t worry, I won’t have an outside child.”

Then his fingers moved to her lips: “You seem to get pregnant very easily.”

Zhao Mo Ran could barely suppress her anger. “Chu Ci, don’t go too far.”

“What’s too far?” He pinched her chin. “I was just ensnared and had a one-time encounter, and now there’s a child claiming to be mine. Even if I jump into the Yellow River, I can’t wash it off. My wife neglects me like this, where am I supposed to reason?”

She was furious, and wanting to refute him, she found herself at a loss for words, so she chose to ignore him. Instead, Chu Ci pushed ahead, pulling her into his arms, lowering his head deliberately to say, “My mother is crazy about having a grandson. How about getting pregnant sooner, so she doesn’t have to fixate on someone else’s belly, what do you think?”

Pressed into his embrace, unable to move, and being so brazenly bullied, she couldn’t help but be furious and angry, without thinking, she raised her hand and slapped across.

With a “slap,” Chu Ci’s handsome face was marked with a slap imprint, not deep but sounding painful indeed. After hitting him, Zhao Mo Ran was stunned herself; she didn’t expect he’d accept it like that. She thought he would dodge; after all, having lived with him for a year, she knew he wasn’t a man with a particularly good temper.

She froze, her red lips slightly parted, voice hoarse and hushed: “Chu Ci…”

He stared into her eyes, reached out to touch his handsome face, lightly laughing: “Are you scared?”

He said, pulling her hand to cover his face. “If you’re still angry, hit me again.”

“Madman.” She forcefully withdrew her hand, but he wouldn’t let go. She lifted her eyes to look at him, and then noticed his gaze had changed. She immediately thought of fleeing, but Chu Ci was quicker, holding her waist and sitting down, letting her sit on his lap…

His gaze was genuinely dangerous, and Zhao Mo Ran struggled again: “Chu Ci, Yan Yan is sleeping.”

“I won’t disturb her,” he lightly caressed her cheek, nose, and finally landed on her red lips, “What do you think I want to do, hmm?”

Zhao Mo Ran turned her face away in embarrassment—

Today he made a disgrace of himself, and Song Yunfei even found the Chu Family, yet he still has the mood for this. She didn’t want to be close to him but found him too domineering, which made her even more reluctant.

Chu Ci naturally knew her resistance, his eyes darkening and his voice growing hoarse: “I will handle this situation. No matter what, this child won’t be born nor appear in front of you, rest assured.”

She did not respond to his words but instead said, “Let me go, I need to paint.”

Chu Ci glanced at the painting she had just made, a small oil painting of an angel, he looked at it for a while before frowning: “Is Yan Yan really this pretty?”

She was furious, struggled free from him, quickly walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, defensively hugging herself, her voice drifting over, “Chu Ci, I don’t know why you’ve changed, but nothing has changed for me. Having an illegitimate child outside doesn’t change what you’ve done…”

She laughed bitterly: “No ‘if’… The day before we married, you were with another woman, I don’t see how this marriage could ever reach the point of true love, Chu Ci, I’ve never had extravagant hopes for you. The story of a prince loving a Cinderella is just a fairy tale, isn’t that the same for you? We don’t have to divorce, but can’t we continue to lead our own lives?”

Her voice lowered, somberly: “I feel that’s fine.”

She spoke calmly, but to Chu Ci, her words were extremely uncomfortable, seemingly polite, but each word conveyed this meaning: she didn’t care about him or the women outside, she just asked that there be no illegitimate child—that’s all for the child she had… what’s truly cold is her indifference made even him seem inadequate.

Chu Ci was vexed, walked over and embraced her waist from behind, his voice hoarse, “Do you dislike me that much? Wish I’d go find other women?”

She said nothing, staring out as the sky slowly darkened, long before speaking in a hushed tone: “Chu Ci, please don’t make it hard for me. I know what you want, but I can’t do it.”

His face buried in her warm neck for a while before he continued, “What if I insist on pushing you?”

“I can’t do it, and I can’t lie to myself.” She turned around, speaking seriously, “Chu Ci, I don’t want to deceive myself, and I don’t want to deceive you… don’t waste time on me.”

He stared into her eyes, not missing a single change in expression, finally confirming she wasn’t joking, so he let his demeanor calm, “Fine, just keep it as before…”

With that, he released her and turned to leave.

Zhao Mo Ran was left sitting on the stool, dazed until she realized that he seemed to have left and was angry. Stunned for a while, she resumed painting, but her mind couldn’t settle…

Elsewhere, Chu Ci went to the study to take a call from Secretary Yin to reassure him everything was settled outside.

Settled… except for Song Yunfei.

No, actually the most unsettled is Mo Ran, his wife… she used to argue, curse, and hit him, which was better than the cold treatment now. Her every bit of calm indicates she doesn’t love him; she said… she never would.

Chu Ci let out a long breath, took a pack of cigarettes from the table, pulled out a smoke and lit it, having barely inhaled when he noticed the photo on the desk—it was Yan Yan’s photo… Mo Ran saw it today too, right?

He held a cigarette with one hand and took the frame with the other, looking it over carefully before putting it in a drawer. Then he realized perhaps he and Mo Ran still hadn’t taken any wedding photos, though she had planned them but never gotten around to it. There wasn’t even a wedding photo at home… Chu Ci exhaled deeply, finally admitting he hadn’t treated her well—not well at all.

He sat and smoked four or five cigarettes, wanting to go see her but pride held him back, so instead, he slowly went downstairs… The house staff had been somewhat frightened, expecting a big argument today but surprisingly finding things extraordinarily quiet.

The staff cautiously asked what to prepare for dinner, and Chu Ci, sitting on the sofa flipping through a magazine, replied, “As usual, add a couple more dishes, not too greasy… isn’t the wife maintaining her figure?”

The staff didn’t expect the gentleman to be in a good mood and immediately nodded, “Yes, yes.”

Chu Ci smiled faintly and lowered his head, “Let the wife know to come downstairs for dinner once it’s ready.”

The staff quickly agreed, and Chu Ci continued to idly flip through the magazine… When dinner time came, however, he went upstairs himself, opened the art room door, Zhao Mo Ran was still painting, he stood at the doorway: “Time to eat.”

She didn’t look up, softly saying: “Just a bit more.”

Chu Ci went over, stood beside her and watched for a while… her painting was indeed good, though still a bit below masterful, for her age, it was very commendable.

He was somewhat surprised, then showed a hint of trying to please: “You like painting so much, someday I’ll arrange a gallery for you.”

“No need.” She glanced at him: “It’s just a hobby, to pass the time. To hold an exhibition—first it’s not well-known, second it’s very tiring.”

She intended to spend her time with her child…