WRA CH24

Chapter 24: Hubby, I Know What I Did Wrong

“You’re not an idiot,” Zhou Sicheng retorted, his rationality hanging by a thread from sheer fury, yet his voice firm and thundering with authority.

Before Xiang Zhen could even rejoice over his husband’s domineering protectiveness, he heard Zhou Sicheng add crudely, “Because fking an idiot is illegal.”

The atmosphere inside the tent instantly froze. Xiang Zhen blinked.

Xiao Kui Bao couldn’t resist chiming in: [Mental retardation is a medical concept, while a person without civil capacity is a legal concept. Would you like to know the relationship between mental retardation and persons lacking civil capacity?]

Clearly, the minor mode was working as intended—Xiao Kui Bao’s judgmental mode had been completely swapped for popular science mode. Zhou Sicheng’s private instruction to the technicians to restrict Xiang Zhen’s account mode hadn’t been in vain.

What he hadn’t anticipated was that Xiang Zhen and Xiao Kui Bao were a matched pair of masterminds.

Zhou Sicheng manually muted Xiao Kui Bao. First, he made his stance crystal clear: he had never beaten his wife in the past, he wasn’t beating his wife now, and he would never beat his wife in the future.

Having firmly stated his position, Zhou Sicheng turned into the King of Hell interrogating Xiang Zhen: “How exactly did you arrive at that conclusion?”

Sitting on Zhou Sicheng’s lap, Xiang Zhen confessed obediently, “Because I saw the torture instrument you bought for 1,620 yuan.”

Torture instrument?

Zhou Sicheng often heard astonishing terminology slip from Xiang Zhen’s mouth. “Are you talking about… that metal rack?”

Xiang Zhen nodded, whispering, “Isn’t that used to hang me up and whip me?”

Hang him up and whip him?

Zhou Sicheng marveled at Xiang Zhen’s imagination. By comparison, the functional purpose of a Smith machine seemed so terribly mundane. He pulled up a video, letting the facts speak for themselves: “That’s a cable crossover rack, not a gallows. It’s for working out.”

Zhou Sicheng pressed Xiang Zhen’s hand against his back muscles. “Feel this. And that chest of mine you sleep on every day—did you think I was just born with that?”

Xiang Zhen took a second to process it. So he had misunderstood the Smith machine! It was a good thing!

Terrified his husband would be too angry to work out anymore, Xiang Zhen tilted his head up and kissed Zhou Sicheng’s chin. “Hubby, I know what I did wrong. Please don’t be mad.”

Zhou Sicheng’s voice carried an icy chill: “Why didn’t you ask Xiao Kui Bao? Don’t you tell it everything?”

Xiang Zhen met his gaze.

Zhou Sicheng sighed. “Fine. My fault.”

Xiang Zhen: “Actually, there was another reason I didn’t ask Xiao Kui Bao. I was afraid it would persuade me to divorce you again.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Zhou Sicheng fell silent for a few seconds. Blinded by the sudden shock of being accused of “wife-beating,” he hadn’t paused to consider the underlying logic and affection behind Xiang Zhen’s behavior.

Xiang Zhen assumed he beat his wife.

Yet Xiang Zhen hadn’t immediately confronted him demanding a breakup like he had during the cheating scare.

Xiang Zhen had even found a plausible rationale for his behavior—that whole S and M thing.

Right, S.

Zhou Sicheng licked his dry lips and played dumb: “So… what is this S and M thing anyway?”

Xiang Zhen: “Well, I follow an influencer named Sister Li.”

Zhou Sicheng: “Wasn’t it Sister Wang?”

Xiang Zhen: “This is another blogger who specializes in deep discussions about gay relationships. She said your symptom isn’t domestic violence, but a natural-born Sadist personality.”

Zhou Sicheng’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “And then?”

Xiang Zhen: “And then I read a piece of reference literature called A Straight Guy Falls for a Sadist but Fears the Pain, so I understood—”

Zhou Sicheng: “You understood how S and M is played?”

Xiang Zhen scratched his burning cheek. “Mn. Hubby, you wouldn’t treat me like that, right?”

Zhou Sicheng: “I wouldn’t. Let me see the novel.”

When interrogating his wife, no piece of evidence could be overlooked, lest further misunderstandings arise.

Xiang Zhen pulled up the story. “I even bought a premium decompression membership just to read it.”

Zhou Sicheng: “Sounds like you found the right one, then.”

Inside the tent in the park, the newlyweds opened a wildly explicit and violent web novel.

Right from the opening chapter, there was a leather whip.

Blessed with a high IQ, Zhou Sicheng’s mind instantly connected the whip to Xiang Zhen and yard-long cowpeas.

He casually dragged the progress bar forward twice; each scene featured a different kink.

How could raw ginger go from the dinner table straight into the bedroom?

He didn’t care for other people’s tricks, but there was one thing he needed to verify. Tapping his finger against the screen, he asked:

“Xiang Zhen, you mistakenly believed I was going to do these things to you, yet you were still willing to stay with me?”

Xiang Zhen nodded.

From an absurd, smutty misunderstanding, Zhou Sicheng recognized Xiang Zhen’s unconditional tolerance and love for him.

Xiang Zhen could accept even a person like that, merely admitting he hadn’t prepared himself yet.

A very long time ago, he had lost the only person capable of tolerating him like this.

Surely Xiang Zhen would love him even more when he learned of his true self—the one who merely told harmless white lies while holding a net worth of hundreds of billions.

In this moment of reading smut together, pure love surged into his heart far ahead of raw desire.

Outside the tent lay the pond of water lilies, resembling an oil painting. Xiang Zhen’s golden hair was like the most exquisite pigment, while his refined features carried the ethereal elegance of a brush-and-ink masterpiece.

Zhou Sicheng lowered his gaze to look at Xiang Zhen, who still seemed to glow in the dim light. The young man kept his lovely eyes lowered, reading along with Zhou Sicheng. Curious about everything in the world, he appeared naive enough to want to discuss the prose with him.

Such a pure wife… Reading words like this was practically a desecration.

Zhou Sicheng closed the novel. “I’m not like him.”

Xiang Zhen: “Hubby, I believe you.”

Zhou Sicheng promised, “I won’t whip you, I won’t bind you with ropes, I won’t blindfold you so you can’t see me, and I won’t use any props. Nor will I deliberately neglect you, punish you, or make you call me master…”

As the promises rolled on, Zhou Sicheng gradually spiraled into frantic rambling.

Damn it, the novel got into my head.

Xiang Zhen couldn’t accept specialized bedroom roleplay; in other words, he had long been ready for regular marital intimacy.

Tonight, however, Zhou Sicheng was determined to see pure love through to the end.

After all, they were out in the wild.

With his high profile and Xiang Zhen’s striking beauty, making the headlines would be disastrous.

Zhou Sicheng pulled an ice pack from the fruit bag and pressed it against his forehead to cool down for a moment.

Xiang Zhen: “Hubby, are you hot?”

Zhou Sicheng: “A little.”

Xiang Zhen peeled a chilled grape and fed it to Zhou Sicheng. His soft, moist fingertip brushed past Zhou Sicheng’s lower lip—like passing by a snake’s den, he was caught off guard and lightly bitten.

Zhou Sicheng: “An accident.”

“It’s okay.”

Xiang Zhen hurriedly retracted his finger and popped it into his own mouth. His tongue caught the teeth mark Zhou Sicheng had left behind, along with a lingering trace of sweetness from the grape.

Seeing him like this… Zhou Sicheng promptly pressed the ice pack firmly against the bridge of his straight nose and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Let’s open the tent to get some air.”

Xiang Zhen: “But there are mosquitoes.”

Zhou Sicheng: “We’ll head back early tonight.”

Relying on thirty years of honed willpower and acting skills, Zhou Sicheng weathered a pure-love park date with his wife.

After dark, a breeze rose across the lake, bringing a crisp chill. They weren’t the only family camping nearby, but the open grounds meant everyone maintained a respectful distance of twenty to thirty meters.

The main reason for heading home, however, was that Xiang Zhen didn’t have two-day weekends and had to work the next day.

That damned customer service job.

…

“Zhou Sicheng! Pay me back!”

On Monday morning, having wrapped up his meeting at the bank, Fan Hao made a special trip to the headquarters to plead his grievance—failing to appeal within three days meant accepting the punishment and facing a company-wide reprimand.

Losing a million-yuan bonus was a minor issue; the real problem was losing face. If colleagues asked, he couldn’t even explain the true reason. He couldn’t very well admit he had watched Zhou Sicheng make a fool of himself—that would cost him even more money.

Sitting behind the most luxurious executive desk in the headquarters, overlooking the prime ocean view, Zhou Sicheng didn’t even lift his head, his pen scratching briskly across paper.

From Fan Hao’s vantage point, he could see Zhou Sicheng’s distinct knuckles gripping the pen, the crisp white cuff protruding from his black suit sleeve, and the bespoke suit tailored so impeccably that even every fold seemed calculated. His side profile alone looked exorbitantly expensive, to say nothing of the priceless backdrop beside him: an endless expanse of azure sea dotted with white sails.

Fan Hao couldn’t help but reminisce about the scene of Zhou Sicheng accepting rideshare gigs, sending his wife a 52-yuan red packet, and cashing out from his credit card.

Want Zhou Sicheng to put on that kind of show for you? You wouldn’t see it again even if you threw down twenty million.

Seeing that for just one million was totally worth it.

“President Zhou, about that penalty… I know my mistake and I’m ready to reform.”

Zhou Sicheng: “Where did you go wrong?”

Fan Hao: “Uh…”

Zhou Sicheng: “Inadequate risk control.”

Fan Hao tried to argue on reasonable grounds: “Even if you really want to fine me, don’t use that excuse! As someone in risk control, I can’t afford to lose face like this. How massive a bad debt would I have had to approve for that?”

Zhou Sicheng: “I see you haven’t reflected enough. Who was it that told Xiang Zhen I might not be as poor as I look on the surface?”

Fan Hao: “…” He had whispered that behind Zhou Sicheng’s back after getting out of the car. Had Xiang Zhen reported it word for word? Truly, the more you say, the more mistakes you make.

Suddenly, he deeply envied the people on Xiang Zhen’s Moments who could call Zhou Sicheng a stingy bastard right to his face without suffering any consequences.

Fan Hao laughed heartily: “I was only testing Madam’s trust in you on your behalf.”

Zhou Sicheng took on a solemn tone: “Do you understand the importance of my marital stability to me, and indeed to the entire Zhoufu Group? Your actions yesterday were aimed at introducing risk into my marriage, and you still dare claim you manage risk? Fining you a million is letting you off easy.”

Fan Hao was struck dumb.

Of course he understood how crucial marital stability was for the helmsman of a corporate conglomerate. It influenced shareholder confidence and affected equity preservation. If a CEO’s marital scandal leaked, company products were easily boycotted by consumers, directly causing devastating economic losses to the group.

The problem was, do you even have a fking marriage license?!

Zhou Sicheng’s words conveyed only one single message: he was dead serious.

Fan Hao: “I yield, I yield, I admit defeat! How about I privately hand over that million to you as a wedding gift?”

Zhou Sicheng: “Am I lacking your one million?”

Fan Hao knew Zhou Sicheng was just settling scores for being laughed at yesterday. Even though the 52-yuan transfer was sent by Zhou Sicheng himself, it was Manager Fan who had exposed his cheapness.

“If you want the penalty rescinded, that’s fine too,” Zhou Sicheng shifted his tone. “Do something for me.”

Fan Hao: “What is it? Does it involve your wife?”

Zhou Sicheng: “Recruit him into Zhoufu Bank.”

He had observed that Xiang Zhen harbored a longstanding admiration for banking work. If he joined the bank, he would have weekends off, work standard nine-to-five hours, and quit that lousy customer service gig at the nut company where romantic rivals hovered all around him. The work environment would also remain firmly under his control.

Fan Hao rubbed his palms together eagerly. This was an open, legitimate opportunity to get close to the CEO’s spouse. He was determined to become Madam’s confidant—the kind of faction that could call Zhou Sicheng stingy to his face without facing consequences.

“What was Xiang Zhen’s major? I’ll make arrangements.”

Zhou Sicheng: “He doesn’t have an academic degree.”

Fan Hao: “Then what level of education does he have?”

Zhou Sicheng estimated: “Compulsory education.”

Fan Hao was stunned. The newly hired security guards at their bank all held bachelor’s degrees, yet Zhou Sicheng had found a partner who hadn’t even finished elementary school.

Still, it didn’t matter. In this world, the threshold for many jobs was just having a pretty face and a functioning brain—not to mention having an incredible husband, the top tier of all perks.

Zhou Sicheng said, “I didn’t tell you to shove him into finance or risk control. Xiang Zhen makes a very good customer service representative. Or you can bring him along when you visit clients to carry your briefcase—provided they are legitimate clients, meals are provided, and you return the same day.”

With things laid out so clearly, Fan Hao understood: Zhou Sicheng couldn’t step forward personally, so he wanted him to mentor Xiang Zhen and help him explore career paths.

After returning to his department, Fan Hao had the tech team draft an internal recruitment notice, which he promptly forwarded to Xiang Zhen.

[Our bank is hiring customer service personnel, complete with comprehensive social security benefits. Want to come interview? I’m the interviewer!]

The hint couldn’t be clearer: just show up and you’re hired.

Xiang Zhen forwarded the job posting to Zhou Sicheng, asking for his husband’s opinion: “What do you think?”

Zhou Sicheng: “I think two-day weekends are great. We can go on dates every weekend.”

Xiang Zhen recalled the wonderful picnic date they had shared in the park: “Then I’ll submit my resume!”

Zhou Sicheng casually glanced at the calendar on his desk—it wasn’t the jam-packed schedule of the Zhoufu CEO, but Xiang Zhen’s customer service shift roster.

“Wifey, are you off work tomorrow?”