C18 Chapter 18

When Su Jiyue woke up, it was already noon.

Her whole body ached. When she looked closer, she was covered in unmistakable marks. After letting out a long sigh, she struggled to sit up, cursing Qin Yaochen under her breath like he was some kind of animal.

The moment her feet hit the floor, her legs gave out and she dropped to her knees.

“Qin Yaochen, you bastard...” Su Jiyue spat, furious. After getting dressed, she rubbed her sore lower back and slowly made her way out of the room.

“Mrs. Qin, you’re up!” The sharp-eyed butler called out the second he saw her.

Maybe it was just her imagination, but everyone seemed unusually cheerful today.

Su Jiyue glanced at the butler, nodded, then sat down at the dining table and scrolled through her phone.

She hadn’t gone into the studio all morning—who knew how things were going. With that thought, she opened WeChat.

A few messages popped up, all from Cai and the company group chat—mostly asking why she hadn’t come in and how the loan was going.

Only then did Su Jiyue remember: she’d completely blown the loan.

She was about to message Cai back when Cai beat her to it.

“Ms. Jiyue! Someone from Qin Group just delivered a check. They said headquarters decided to submit our best work to the Prosperity Landscape Design Competition, and this is our startup funding. They approved a full one million dollars!”

It was a voice message, and Su Jiyue could hear the excitement loud and clear. Her stomach tightened. Last night flashed through her mind, and a wave of humiliation rose up out of nowhere.

“That’s great news. We finally don’t have to worry about funding anymore,” Su Jiyue typed and sent.

All day, Su Jiyue didn’t go to work. Instead, she hid in her room, drawing one draft after another, trying to erase the memory of last night.

But even after night had fully fallen, Su Jiyue lifted her head from a mountain of discarded drafts and realized, with a heaviness in her chest, that no matter how much she tried to numb herself, the marks on her body and the dull ache wouldn’t let her forget: she’d traded her own body to Qin Yaochen for one million dollars.

When Qin Yaochen got home, he was clearly in an unusually good mood. Not seeing Su Jiyue anywhere, he casually asked the butler, “Where’s Mrs. Qin?”

The butler let out a sigh. “Sir, something’s off with her.”

“What happened?” Qin Yaochen raised an eyebrow.

“This morning, I’m not sure what she heard, but after breakfast she shut herself in her room. I brought food up once—her room was covered in crumpled drafts. She didn’t look like she was doing well.”

After hearing that, Qin Yaochen didn’t even stop for a sip of water. He strode straight to Su Jiyue’s door.

He lifted his hand to knock, then paused. A moment later, he twisted the handle and pushed the door open.

It was already pitch-dark outside, but there were no lights on in Su Jiyue’s room.

Moving through the darkness, Qin Yaochen saw Su Jiyue sitting at her desk, working intently on something by the faint light coming through the window.

His brow tightened. He reached out and flipped on the light.

“Ah—” Su Jiyue yelped, finally looking up from her work.

“Drawing without a light on—are you trying to go blind?” Qin Yaochen scolded coldly. He was about to walk over when he noticed the sketches scattered all over the floor. After a brief hesitation, he crouched down and, with surprising patience, picked them up one by one.

Su Jiyue watched Qin Yaochen carefully gathering her drafts, and she couldn’t quite name what she was feeling. It wasn’t until he stacked them neatly, walked over, and held them out to her that she finally snapped back to herself.

“Th-Thank you…” Su Jiyue kept her head down as she took the pages, not even looking up at Qin Yaochen.

Seeing her like that, Qin Yaochen barked, “Look at me!”

“…” That stubborn streak of hers flared up. Su Jiyue stayed with her head lowered, not moving an inch.

“Tch…” Qin Yaochen clicked his tongue in irritation. He reached out, pinched her chin, and forced her face up. “What’s wrong?” He saw her eyes were red-rimmed.

“Nothing…” Su Jiyue turned her face away, dodging his gaze.

That only made Qin Yaochen angrier. He scooped her up from the chair, carried her to the bed, and tossed her down hard. Leaning over to pin her in place, he said, “If something’s going on, you come to me. If you won’t say anything, then who were you planning to run to—what other guy were you going to ask for help?”