Chapter 8: “If you keep fussing, I’ll kiss you.”

In the early morning, golden sunlight filtered delicately through sheer curtains, falling softly onto the European-style pure wool carpet in the bedroom. The silent quartz clock pointed quietly to the number “seven.”

A beautiful day began—with Chen Luoru’s scream.

“Pervert! Get your pig trotters off me!”
Chen Luoru woke up to find her head resting on Meng Jianchen’s arm, while his other arm lay across her abdomen, and his unruly hand was gripping her waistline.

Meng Jianchen was startled awake by her sharp scream. She was frantically trying to pry his arm off her.

He instinctively looked toward where she was pushing.

She had a habit of tossing and turning in her sleep. Her silk nightdress had ridden up, and now the lower half of it was bunched up at her waist in soft folds, leaving everything beneath it exposed.

One look—and it was over. He was guilty as charged: a full-blown pervert.

Chen Luoru scrambled out of his arms in a chaotic mess, completely abandoning any noble-lady composure. She grabbed a feather pillow and began smacking him.
“Keep looking! Keep looking! Huh? Close your eyes! Close them!”

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Qsse vbkdt pbl oypd’v qasx vbl dsavblypv, sa kq pbl’e pbswvle, “Ebyv yal usw zssjkdt yv?” Yldt Kkydnbld xktbv’hl kdpvkdnvkhlzu alrzkle, “Nssjkdt yv usw, ps obyv?” Gde pbl’e byhl rascyczu fwxrle kdvs sackv.

Mbyv sdl bkv qwzzu osjl Yldt Kkydnbld.

Lso vbyv oyp y oyjl-wr nyzz. Fzllr? Qsdl. Rdpvydvzu.

Mbkp osxyd alyzzu oyp—tkhl bla y zkvvzl pwdpbkdl yde pbl’zz czygl zkjl vbl pwd; tkhl bla y zkvvzl qzsse yde pbl’zz easod vbl hkzzytl; tkhl bla y casjld cypjlv yde pbl’zz pvyav zyukdt lttp.

Yldt Kkydnbld’p zkr kdfwau pvkzz byed’v blyzle. Gv vbkp ayvl, bl’e cl nakrrzle clqsal zsdt.

Tl aykple sdl yax vs czsnj vbl rkzzso pvakjlp aykdkdt esod zkjl y pvsax, yde wple bkp svbla yax vs uydj Ubld Nwsaw cynj kdvs bkp lxcaynl.

“Fvsr xyjkdt vaswczl,” bl pyke.

Ubld Nwsaw zkqvle bla eyaj blye, casop qwaasole kd ydtla yp pbl tzyale yv bkx. “Zsw’al xyjkdt vaswczl!”

“If you don’t stop, I’ll kiss you.”
He snatched the pillow from her hands and tossed it off the bed.

“Kiss me if you dare!” Chen Luoru didn’t believe his nonsense for a second. He would say anything to get his way.

Meng Jianchen lowered his gaze to look at her.

Her skin was fair with a blush of pink, her eyes lively and bright, her thick lashes like finely crafted fans.

Her upper lip curved into a lovely “M” shape. Even without lipstick or balm, they had a cherry blossom–pink glow to them.

While Chen Luoru blinked, Meng Jianchen suddenly and swiftly gave her lips a quick, light mwah.

Chen Luoru was stunned. W-What just happened? This dog of a man actually did it!?

Did he just kiss her!?

Chen Luoru instantly wiped her lips in disgust. “What are you doing!?”

“You told me to kiss you,” Meng Jianchen said calmly as he got out of bed. “It’s not like I haven’t done it before.”

With that, he swaggered off to the bathroom, leaving Chen Luoru sitting there in complete shock.

Meng Jianchen hadn’t secretly kissed her in her sleep—Chen Luoru clearly remembered the kiss he was referring to.

This wasn’t their first kiss. Their first kiss happened four years ago.

Back then, Chen Luoru was still attending high school in the UK.

Westminster School, located next to Westminster Abbey in central London, was founded by Elizabeth I in the 12th century and had long-standing ties to the British royal family. About half of its graduates went on to Oxford or Cambridge each year.

Unlike Chen Luoru, who received elite aristocratic education, her older sister Chen Yang grew up wild and free.

Yet it was that very sister who, earlier that year, got engaged to Meng Jianchen, the heir to the Jinghong family fortune.

During the Easter holidays, Chen Luoru returned to Guangdong and met Meng Jianchen—her “future brother-in-law”—for the first time.

“This is my fiancé, Meng Jianchen,” Chen Yang introduced. “And this is my little sister, full name Chen Luoru, nickname Wanwan.”

“Hello.” Meng Jianchen nodded at her, polite but distant.

“Hello, brother-in-law.” Chen Luoru, aware how hard her family worked to secure this match, greeted him with honeyed sweetness.

“Your sister and I are not married yet,” Meng Jianchen reminded her.

Chen Luoru felt like she had just tried to flatter the horse but kicked the leg instead—awkward and unsure what to do.

“Just call me ‘big brother,’” Meng Jianchen said casually.

“Yes, call him big brother,” Chen Yang chimed in.

Chen Luoru paused, her face slightly flushed, and shyly murmured, “Big brother…”

And that’s how Chen Luoru met Meng Jianchen.

From then on, he began showing up at the Chen house every other day.

Chen Luoru’s parents were busy with work. Her sister Chen Yang had a wild spirit and was hardly ever home.

So the large Chen household often had only one little host—Chen Luoru.

Every time her sister went out to play, she’d tell Chen Luoru to cover for her as long as she could.

Meng Jianchen had patience with Chen Yang. If she wasn’t home, he’d simply wait at the house.

Whenever Chen Luoru saw him again, she’d feel a bit sorry for him.

There he was, completely clueless that his head is filled with green grassland¹being cheated on.

When the holiday ended, Chen Luoru returned to the UK.

She came back again in the summer, thinking she was going to be her sister’s bridesmaid.
But then Chen Yang got into trouble—she was found to be pregnant before the wedding, and the child had absolutely nothing to do with Meng Jianchen.

The entire family surrounded Chen Luoru, appealing to her emotions and reason, begging her to take her sister’s place in the wedding.

Chen Luoru had just turned eighteen and was planning to report to Cambridge after the summer. Instead, she was dragged into this giant mess.

Her parents said the wedding invitations were already out. Countless people from the political and business worlds knew the Meng and Chen families were to be joined by marriage. It had to go through.

Besides, it wasn’t like the public knew which daughter of the Chen family Meng Jianchen was marrying.

And Meng Jianchen himself had agreed to the switch.

So Chen Luoru was pushed into the fire, and before she knew it, she had registered a marriage with Meng Jianchen in Hong Kong.

Afterward, they held the wedding in Beijing.

It wasn’t some fairytale European castle wedding. No romance—just a grand hotel full of elite power players. A political and financial alliance.

Both families agreed: the wedding had to maximize its impact and show the world that the two families were now in-laws.

At the ceremony, Chen Luoru felt like a pitiful doll put on display.

Look—so many guests sat beneath the stage, all smiling and congratulating them. But none of them actually cared who she was.
As long as she was a “Chen daughter,” that was enough.

Maybe it was the same for Meng Jianchen.

Whether it was her sister or herself—as long as the surname was Chen, it didn’t matter.

Naturally, the ceremony included exchanging rings and the first kiss.

Meng Jianchen took her hand and slipped a slightly ill-fitting wedding band onto her ring finger, then softly asked, “Do you know how to kiss?”

Embarrassed, Chen Luoru shook her head.

“I’ll take care of it then,” he said gently.

Before that moment, Chen Luoru had fantasized about her first kiss a thousand different ways.
But it turned out to be the 1,001st way—a performance under public scrutiny.

The emcee declared, “Groom, you may kiss the bride.”

Meng Jianchen lifted her white veil. Chen Luoru was so stiff she couldn’t move a muscle.

He leaned in and touched her lips.

Her mind went completely blank. She stood frozen with her eyes wide open, not even daring to blink.

Meng Jianchen kissed her gently and with restraint—just a soft touch on her lips.

The kiss lasted a full minute. So did the applause from the guests, as if celebrating how deeply in love they were.

When he pulled back, Chen Luoru’s knees nearly gave out, and she almost collapsed into his arms.

He caught her and whispered, “It’s over now.”

After that wedding, Chen Luoru lost her first kiss—and finally realized she was nothing but a pawn sacrificed by her family.
No one cared if she was happy or not.

Even though Meng Jianchen treated her gently, she still couldn’t help but hate him.

This man, who took her first kiss, also stripped away her right to love and be loved—burying her in the grave called marriage.

She hated him so much.

And now—this jerk just kissed her again!

To Chen Luoru, that was the ultimate humiliation.

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Sansukini: Seems to me like he’s not waiting for Chen Yan, but was loitering in their house because of someone else.