Chapter 87: The Unspoken Rules

Return: My Hell and Heaven
Chapter 87: The Unspoken Rules

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Heavy blackout curtains blocked out most of the light. In the master bedroom on the third floor, the air was dim and silent.

On the large, oval-shaped bed in the center of the room, beneath a fluffy, soft blanket, a girl slowly opened her eyes.

…Where was she?

The first thought that surged into Song Shu’s mind was this. Her groggy, numb head made her feel as if she had just woken up after sleeping for a year, or even several years. Both time and space gave her an eerie sense of dislocation and unfamiliarity.

Gradually, fragments of memories stirred from the depths of her consciousness, surfacing bit by bit as she regained awareness—
A wild and absurd night, an unrelenting madman obsessed with her, and her own voice tinged with tears as she teetered between wakefulness and exhaustion, entangled with him until her cries became hoarse.

Under the thin blanket, a vivid blush crept from her slender neck to her delicately beautiful face.

Song Shu tried to get up, but as soon as she moved, she realized two things. First, her waist was so sore it felt as if it had lost all strength. Second, the owner of the arm wrapped around her front, which she hadn’t noticed earlier, seemed to awaken at her movement.

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Song Shu’s small, struggling movements came to an abrupt halt.

Seconds later, a deep blush spread to her ears.

Qin Lou’s laughter grew more unrestrained. Unable to resist, he leaned down to kiss the tip of her ear, his voice raspy with unrestrained desire as he teased the girl frozen in his arms. “Why did you stop moving?”

“…”

“Though I said not to move, I actually quite enjoy it when you struggle. It gives me the perfect excuse to teach you your punishment, just like last night.”

Finally pushed to her limit, Song Shu turned her head slightly toward him, her dark eyes filled with annoyance. There was also an unidentifiable glint of moisture, as though awakened by either Qin Lou’s words or something else entirely. Her slightly upturned eyes still bore the faint redness from the prior night’s absurdity.

Qin Lou’s smile faltered briefly as he met her gaze. In the next second, his expression deepened with an unfathomable emotion.

He leaned down to kiss her dry lips, still bearing the marks of his torment. Just before Song Shu could fully process what was happening, her eyes widened in surprise as his low, husky laughter broke the silence.

“That was a joke earlier. But now, I’m serious—you shouldn’t look at me like that, Little Clamshell.”

“?”

Before Song Shu could react, she felt herself being lifted into the air. Startled, she instinctively wrapped her arms around the only stable thing—the man in front of her.

Moments later, she was pressed against the padded headboard of the bed. The cool air pricked at her exposed skin, prompting her to curl up instinctively. However, Qin Lou pushed her closer instead.

Leaning into her ear, his breath heavy with barely concealed desire, he murmured, “You refused to make a sound no matter how much I pushed you last night. Shall we try again today? The soundproofing on the third floor is excellent, but it’s daytime now. If we stay here too long, they’re bound to eavesdrop at the staircase. Let’s see if I can make you scream loud enough for them to hear.”

“Qin Lou!”

Song Shu’s face turned crimson. Finally unable to endure it, she angrily called his name. Yet her soft, hoarse voice betrayed her lack of resolve. Its frailty—likely from being pushed too far—only fueled the predator’s fervor, snapping his last thread of restraint.
What followed was her protest devolving into a helpless whimper as the oppressive heat in the room was reignited.

According to the servants in the old mansion, neither Song Shu nor Qin Lou appeared for breakfast that day. Lunch and dinner were delivered to the third floor by Qin Lou himself.

It wasn’t until the evening of the following day that Song Shu, her face blank but still beautiful, descended the stairs.

At that time, Qin Lou carefully followed behind Song Shu, always trying to steady her as if afraid she might fall. Yet, every time he reached out, her sharp “slap” would unapologetically swat his hand away.

By the time they reached the dining table, Qin Lou’s usually pale hands were visibly red from Song Shu’s repeated smacks. He seemed utterly unfazed, though, and instinctively reached out again to support her as she slowly sat on the high-backed chair by the table.

Once more, the crisp sound of a slap echoed through the room.

The servants couldn’t bear to watch their young master’s masochistic delight and turned their faces away.

But just as they averted their eyes, they heard Qin Lou’s low, displeased voice from the dining room:
“Stop hitting me.”

“—?”

The servants exchanged shocked glances, and those standing slightly farther away whispered their discontent on Song Shu’s behalf:

“See? Men lose their sense of care once they’ve had their way. The young master is actually talking back to Miss Song now.”

“Exactly. Miss Song just slapped him a few times, but he’s the one who kept her in bed for two days straight.”

“Sigh, poor Miss Shu…”

Inside the dining room, Qin Lou initially showed no reaction to their gossip. But as one particular comment reached his ears, his brows furrowed, and his icy gaze shot toward the doorway.

“I’ve said this before: no one but me is allowed to call her that.”

“—!”

The two maids flinched in terror, quickly bowing their heads and falling silent.

Qin Lou turned back, lowering his gaze.

The girl in his view remained seated at the table, her face stoic and unaffected by the servants’ chatter. But of course—he and Song Shu knew each other too well. Their bond had long surpassed the point where others’ words could sway their emotions.

Yet, precisely because of that closeness, it was all the harder to appease her once she was truly angry with him.

Qin Lou let out a soft sigh.

The dining room was bustling with servants, but Qin Lou paid them no mind. He bent one knee and knelt by the high-backed chair, reaching out to gently take Song Shu’s hand.

She tried to pull away, but his firm, unyielding grip held her in place.

Qin Lou lifted her hand to inspect it. Sure enough, the force it took to turn his hand red had left her fingertips equally flushed and swollen.

Frowning with concern, Qin Lou lowered his head to kiss her fingers, murmuring softly with discontent:
“I told you to stop hitting me. Look at your hand—red and swollen like this. It’ll hurt for a long time. Are you hitting me or punishing yourself?”

“…”

Song Shu turned her head slowly after several seconds, her cold gaze settling on him.

A few more moments passed before her lips curved slightly into a rare, mocking smile tinged with irritation.
“So what if it hurts? What does that have to do with you?”

Qin Lou froze.

After a moment, he kissed her fingertips again before raising his head. His dark eyes gazed at her with helplessness.
“I care because it hurts me to see you hurt.”

Song Shu stared blankly at him.
“Then why didn’t you seem to care when I told you to stop before? You acted like you were on a high.”

“…Because you are my high.” Qin Lou tightened his grip on her hand slightly, lowering his head further as he pressed it to his lips. “I’m sorry, Little Clamshell. But in those moments, I can’t stop myself. Every word you say makes me want to claim more of you. The more you speak, the harder it is to hold back. I just want to swallow every cry and every plea you make, to merge entirely with you, to—”

Unable to endure any further, Song Shu lifted her foot and jabbed him lightly.
“Shut up.”

Qin Lou obediently fell silent, raising his eyes to look at her with a pitiful expression.

Song Shu sneered coldly.
“Don’t bother playing the victim with me. Move—I want to eat.”

“…Oh.”

Qin Lou stood up and pulled out the chair beside hers, ready to sit down.

But Song Shu’s blank expression met his movement with a sharp glare.
“Sit across from me. Seeing you nearby irritates me and will ruin my digestion.”

“…”

Qin Lou’s expression turned even more pitiful.

But Song Shu ignored him entirely, turning her attention away to avoid any chance of softening her resolve.

The servants wheeled in the food cart to set the table. Even a blind person could see that Song Shu’s mood was teetering on the edge of an eruption, and no one wanted to witness how terrifying it might be if her usual calm demeanor broke.

Once Song Shu’s place was set, one servant hesitated before asking, “Young Master, where would you like to sit?”

Qin Lou reluctantly tore his gaze from Song Shu and looked around the dining room. Finally, he pointed to the floor by her feet.
“I’ll kneel here to eat.”

Servants: “—?”

Having served the Qin family long enough, they weren’t surprised by the young master’s eccentricity. Still, they couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever behave like a normal person.

The servants turned to Song Shu for help, their expressions pleading.

Song Shu frowned and glanced at Qin Lou. “What are you up to now?”

Qin Lou seized the opportunity to express his heartfelt “atonement.” “Until you calm down, I don’t deserve to sit at the same table as you. If you don’t want to see me, just treat me like a pet dog.”

The servants struggled to maintain their composure.

Song Shu, however, was used to Qin Lou’s antics—especially after the past two days, during which she’d personally witnessed sides of him she hadn’t known existed. By now, nothing he did surprised her.

So even after hearing his absurd remark, Song Shu’s delicate face betrayed no emotion. She simply raised her eyes slightly. “You? A pet dog?”

Qin Lou immediately nodded, dropping to one knee in front of her and kissing her hand affectionately once again.

The servants: “…”
They couldn’t bear to watch.

Song Shu leaned forward slightly, her red lips curling into a faint smile. “What breed?”

Qin Lou was momentarily stunned by her smile, his mind blank for two seconds before he recovered. “Whatever you like.”

“…Really? Whatever I like?”

Her voice was low and her gaze dreamy. She leaned closer, almost as if she were about to kiss him.

Qin Lou tensed slightly.

Even though he’d recently “tasted the forbidden fruit,” his resistance to Song Shu was at its lowest. Every small gesture she made was enough to make his blood boil, let alone this scene that was practically driving him insane.

But Qin Lou also knew one thing: if he lost control now, Song Shu’s “life sentence” of ignoring him might be escalated to an immediate “death penalty.”

So no matter how difficult it was, he forced himself to hold back.

He watched as Song Shu leaned closer, stopping just short of kissing him.

It didn’t surprise him.

A hint of regret flickered in Qin Lou’s eyes.

At such close range, Song Shu’s faint smile vanished completely. Her icy voice pierced his ears:

“You really are a dog—a Teddy turned spirit.”

With that, Song Shu sat back upright and began eating, expressionless.

In the end, Qin Lou was “kicked” to the chair across from her, where he ate his meal with a gaze full of grievance, pity, and misery.

Song Shu proved with her actions that her previous moments of leniency had been out of her indulgence for him. Now that she was truly angry, even Oscar-worthy performances couldn’t sway her.

For a long time after that day, Song Shu exuded an air of “Qin Lou and Teddy dogs must stay at least three meters away.”

With only two days left before the New Year holiday, Song Shu returned to work after taking half a week off.

Luan Qiaoqing immediately rushed to the 22nd floor to ask about the situation. “Why did you both take time off right after the big proposal news? Did you go get your marriage license and head straight for the honeymoon?”

Her innocent guess hit uncomfortably close to the truth. Song Shu raised her eyes lazily to glance at her but didn’t respond.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. You look just like Qin Lou when you do. You two are really starting to look like a married couple,” Luan Qiaoqing muttered, leaning closer. “So, did Qin Lou succeed with his proposal or not?”

“Didn’t the news say?”

“Those gossip articles were taken down ages ago. No way they’d still be up. But the ones I saw claimed you played a joke by pretending to reject him on stage.”

“It wasn’t a joke,” Song Shu said flatly. “I did reject him.”

“Eh—?” Luan Qiaoqing was stunned.

Song Shu seemed to think of something and smiled coldly. “And for a very long time, he shouldn’t expect any success either.”

Luan Qiaoqing: “…”
She cautiously observed Song Shu for a few seconds. “What exactly did Qin Lou do to make you, of all people, this angry? You spoil him so much, and now you’re this upset?”

Before Song Shu could reply, her desk phone rang.

She glanced at it and pressed the speaker button.

A man’s pitiful voice came through. “Shushu, I’m thirsty. I want the coffee you make.”

“Drink water,” Song Shu replied coldly.

“…” Luan Qiaoqing barely managed to stifle her laughter.

It was still before official work hours, and with the end-of-year rush, the assistant secretary team was in full force. Even the two who’d arrived early couldn’t help chuckling.

Unfazed, Qin Lou continued, “I have a meeting later. Shushu, can you come and take minutes for me?”

Song Shu’s tone remained calm. “Meeting minutes aren’t my responsibility. Assistant Qian is right next to me; I’ll notify her.”

There was silence on the other end.

“Anything else? If not, I’m hanging up,” Song Shu said, reaching out to end the call.

Witnessing the entire exchange, Luan Qiaoqing gave Song Shu a thumbs-up. “As expected of you. You’re the only one in the company who dares to hang up on Qin Lou like that. Feels great!”

Song Shu glanced at her, a hint of helplessness in her expression. “That’s only because it’s not official work hours. Once work starts, I can’t act so freely.”

“You really draw the line that clearly?”

“Qin Lou does too,” Song Shu replied, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Which means that as soon as work officially starts, he’ll find a way to cause trouble.”

Luan Qiaoqing was skeptical.

But at exactly 9:00 AM, a call came in from the general manager’s office next door to the assistant secretary team.

This time, however, it wasn’t for Song Shu—it was for Assistant Qian.

Assistant Qian picked up the phone, said, “Yes, Mr. Qin,” listened with a strange expression for a few seconds, and then replied, “Understood, Mr. Qin. I’ll inform her.”

When the call ended, Assistant Qian raised his head to look at Song Shu. “Assistant Song, President Qin wants you to… prepare for a meeting in the conference room.”

Song Shu: “…”

Luan Qiaoqing, who had not yet left, was thoroughly entertained by the scene. She glanced in amazement toward the general manager’s office and then back at Song Shu.
“You really have him figured out.”

Song Shu pursed her lips and got up to prepare the necessary materials for the meeting minutes. “If he didn’t understand me, he wouldn’t act like this.”

“That’s true. He knows you keep work and personal matters separate, which is why he dares to behave like this.”

Luan Qiaoqing seemed ready to say more but was cut off when Song Shu politely showed her the door.
“Work hours are slipping away, Minister Luan. Don’t neglect your duties.”

“Ah, fine, fine. I’ll head downstairs.”

Realizing she wouldn’t get to enjoy the drama, Luan Qiaoqing left reluctantly.

Song Shu arrived at the conference room ahead of time and quickly realized just how idle Qin Lou could be. It was merely a routine financial department meeting for end-of-year summaries and New Year projections. Normally, only a vice president would attend, but Qin Lou insisted on showing up.

The financial department had only received last-minute notice of the general manager’s attendance. What should have been a relaxed meeting instantly turned tense.

Initially, they held onto a faint hope that Qin Lou might not actually show. But when Song Shu appeared, all hope evaporated.

By now, everyone in the company knew one thing: wherever Song Shu was, their General Manager Qin wouldn’t stray more than ten meters away.

Sure enough, with ten minutes still left before the meeting officially began, Qin Lou entered through the front door.

The employees immediately stood nervously.
“Good afternoon, President Qin.”
“President Qin, please take a seat.”
“President Qin…”

Qin Lou gave a casual nod of acknowledgment, his gaze skipping over everyone else to land on Song Shu, who was quietly flipping open her meeting notebook in the corner of the long conference table.

Song Shu, of course, noticed but acted as though she hadn’t.

“I’m just here to observe this meeting,” Qin Lou informed the senior financial staff. “Stick to your usual seating arrangements; no need to mind me.”

After speaking, he turned and headed straight for the corner of the room.

A few seconds later, the chair beside Song Shu was pulled out.

Qin Lou unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down.

Without looking up, Song Shu calmly greeted him, “Good afternoon, President Qin.”

Before the meeting began, Qin Lou showed no restraint. He scooted his chair closer to Song Shu, rested his elbow on the table, and tilted his head to look up at her face from below.

Under everyone’s gaze, Song Shu could no longer ignore him. She coldly raised her eyes.
“…Does President Qin need something?”

Qin Lou pursed his lips.

Song Shu, as if sensing something, curled her lips into a faint, frosty smile. “Should I make some coffee for President Qin?”

Qin Lou pouted, ignoring the image he projected to the financial department staff, and slumped over, resting his head on his arm. “Are you still upset?”

Song Shu said nothing.

After a couple of seconds, she slowly averted her gaze.

—A compliant Qin Lou with his natural hair color, combined with his troublemaker face looking genuinely pitiful, was undeniably disarming.

However, Song Shu maintained her icy demeanor, showing no signs of relenting.

Qin Lou thought for a moment and leaned even closer. “When the meeting ends, Assistant Song, come with me to the general manager’s office.”

“Does President Qin have business?”

“Yes, something important.”

“What is it?”

“…” Qin Lou smirked, leaning so close that his voice reached her ear. “Assistant Song, have you ever heard of unspoken workplace rules?”

Song Shu: “…”

She held back her irritation, silently reminding herself, “This is the office. This is a meeting room. Don’t stoop to his level.” Then, in a composed tone, she turned to Qin Lou.
“President Qin, what did you just say?”

Receiving her pointed glare, which clearly meant “choose your words carefully,” Qin Lou hesitated for two seconds before adopting an innocent tone. “Assistant Song, I want to impose unspoken rules on you.”

Song Shu: “…”

The pen she held in her slender fingers creaked under her grip.

Although the meeting hadn’t started yet, the financial department staff remained in an unspoken state of silence due to Qin Lou’s presence. Hearing the noise, they turned their heads, their expressions subtly shifting.

Song Shu suppressed her frustration, smiled faintly, and spoke in a tone audible only to the two of them.

“President Qin, have you heard this saying?”

“What saying?”

“Desires lead to disaster; abstinence ensures peace.”

“…”

It took Qin Lou a few seconds to connect the phrase to a humorous pun from internet culture.

The staff in the conference room then witnessed something strange: after a brief, whispered exchange with Song Shu, President Qin suddenly leaned back in his chair with a carefree smile.

“Fine,” Qin Lou said boldly, flashing a mischievous grin at Song Shu.
“I won’t resist.”

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