Chapter 127: A Married Woman

Nan Jiaojiao recounted to him the few exchanges she had with Han Qi.

Seeing that she didn’t seem to be lying, the coldness in Bo Yanching’s eyes diminished slightly, but his expression remained stern, “He doesn’t pester others, just you?”

Nan Jiaojiao glanced at him, then lowered her head, her fingers entwined as she gazed at her own mesmerizing digits.

“Probably, it’s because of, this, undeniable, beauty of mine.”

“Squeak—!”

The sudden stop jerked Nan Jiaojiao forward harshly, then the seatbelt snapped her back.

Looking at him puzzled, she asked, “Uncle, are you drunk?”

Bo Yanching held his forehead, his brow twitching and the corners of his eyes jumping.

She wasn’t exactly speaking with righteous indignation, but how could she shamelessly say those words without even changing her expression.

When Nan Jiaojiao saw a pharmacy by the roadside, she planned to buy some hangover medicine.

Just as her hand touched the seatbelt, Bo Yanching pressed it down firmly.

“Sit tight, stop messing around.”

The ride home was rather long, with only a few pedestrians sprinkled along the streets; as the evening deepened, the flickering lights streamed through the window casting shadows.

Nan Jiaojiao felt drowsy and dozed against the backseat.

Sleepy and disoriented, she felt herself being lifted.

She rolled into a warm embrace, her face pressing against a source of warmth through a shirt.

Rubbing her face, she woke herself up.

She was in the elevator, in Bo Yanching’s arms.

“Uncle?”

Bo Yanching lowered his head to glance at her, “Awake now?”

“Mhm.” Nan Jiaojiao yawned, covering her mouth with a hand, her eyes moist and slightly squinted.

“If you’re awake, walk by yourself.”

Bo Yanching set her down, but Nan Jiaojiao wasn’t steady and tumbled against the wall, looking as flimsy as a paper doll and glancing up at him with a grievous expression.

Exiting the elevator, Bo Yanching walked ahead in silence, his face as sour and rigid as possible.

She followed behind him, entering the code to get in and was about to fetch the slippers when the door suddenly closed behind her.

Immediately after, the man lifted her, seating her on the shoe cabinet; his hands braced on either side of her body, his broad shoulders bearing down, deliberately intimidating her.

He pinched her chin, forcing her to look up, then fiercely captured her lips with his own.

Nan Jiaojiao’s eyes widened for an instant, her eyelashes trembled, and unconsciously her lips pursed as she looked at him.

Bo Yanching’s breath turned cold, his fingertip pressed hard against the corner of her mouth, “Do you really want to draw a clear line between us?”

Nan Jiaojiao couldn’t quite express how she felt, “Uncle, who are we slapping in the face this way?”

It was still dark outside, and just a few hours earlier at Shengyue Mansion, she had rejected him with the determination of someone planning to settle down and marry.

Now here she was, caught in his embrace, kissed and pinched, feeling like a faithless woman.

The man seemed startled for a moment, but then the corners of his mouth curled into a cool, faint arc, “Mine.

Is that okay?”

Nan Jiaojiao cast her eyes down, “Han Qi and I were a misunderstanding, but I’m about to marry Shen Shichu.”

Bo Yanching felt irritable and asked somberly, “Do you think you can marry him?”

“Are you, ”

Nan Jiaojiao didn’t continue, biting her lip, seemingly at a loss for words.

With her usually blunt nature now displaying such hesitation, and her face, slightly blush as she kept her head down, she looked so tender and demure that it seemed to scratch at the very tip of his heart, his expression unconsciously softening, “What is it?

Just say it.”

“Are you…” Nan Jiaojiao looked up at him briefly, then quickly averted her gaze, “Do you have a special…

fetish, like, say, for married women, mature women like that?”

The man’s gaze shook, and then he laughed lowly and darkly, pulling Nan Jiaojiao firmly into his embrace, his chest rumbling with suppressed laughter.