**Chapter 23: No One But You**

In a private villa in Ling City, within the home theater room, the light is dim. An old English movie is playing continuously.

He Lingtian, dressed in a lazy, casual black bathrobe, sits on the sofa, almost blending into the darkness. He is much more mysterious and quiet than the night itself, with an underlying sharpness. His pale, slender fingers, illuminated by the dim environment, give off a sense of coldness as he absentmindedly plays with a thin phone.

Then, the door is pushed open, and a beam of light pours in, accompanied by a man’s half-smiling voice: “Old He, have you had enough yet?”

(“Nineteen days.”)

“You’ve watched it every day, you must have memorized the lines by now?”

Rong Huaiyan leans against the doorframe. Through the light from the screen, one can vaguely see his cold, graceful profile. His demeanor is poised like a noble figure from a Chinese ink painting, standing like a mountain with an elegant yet indifferent expression.

This man is Rong Huaiyan, known as the noble son of Ling City.

He Lingtian and he grew up together, their relationship the closest. When He Lingtian visits Ling City, he often meets with Rong Huaiyan.

Rong Huaiyan continues, smiling: “The home theater room must be sour with your jealousy.”

He Lingtian, who normally shows no emotion, finally lazily lifts his eyelids to look at him when hearing these words, his gray-blue eyes as deep as a pool of water. “We are in a business marriage,” he says indifferently.

The meaning is clear. There’s no jealousy.

A business marriage demands the dignity of a business marriage—no emotions, no love.

Rong Huaiyan switches on the lights. The whole room becomes brightly lit. The movie playing on the screen is almost unrecognizable now, only the style of foreign films and their bluntness and eroticism still echo.

Rong Huaiyan, well-versed in such things, decides to try a few of these gestures himself when he returns home to his wife.

He leisurely walks to the sofa, sits down confidently, and pours He Lingtian a cup of tea as a guest.

He Lingtian watches him perform his elaborate tea-making, barely lifting his eyelids. With the time he’s wasting on this, he’d rather drink alcohol.

When Rong Huaiyan pushes the porcelain tea cup toward him, He Lingtian, calm as ever, remarks, “A business marriage has its own charm.”

He too is in a business marriage, and now he shares a good relationship with his wife.

“For example?” Rong Huaiyan slowly sips his tea, meaningfully suggesting, “In a business marriage, you don’t need to care about each other’s image.”

“So?” He Lingtian asks.

“So, if your wife hasn’t contacted you in 19 days, you can shamelessly contact her.” Rong Huaiyan’s eyes glance at the phone He Lingtian is casually playing with.

He Lingtian’s fingers pause briefly on the cool phone, then he nonchalantly looks down. His eyes, like broken frost, slowly solidify into ice and finally melt into a subtle pleasure.

With a smile that is neither a smile nor a frown, he responds, “Oh?”

“Unfortunately, Rong Huaiyan, your advice is something I’m afraid I can’t use.”

He clicks a five-second voice message.

He leisurely shakes the phone: “My wife contacted me.”

He opens the voice message, and a sweet, soft voice from a girl suddenly plays: “Hubby\~ I miss you!”

“Where are you?”

Rong Huaiyan, who had been showing off, is left speechless.

He Lingtian: “Sorry, my wife is very straightforward.”

Rong Huaiyan calmly finishes his cup of tea: “Alright, I’ll be straightforward too.”

“May your business marriage last forever.”

It’s He Lingtian’s turn to remain silent.

Rong Huaiyan, you malicious dog.

…

When Rong Huaiyan leaves, he casually turns off the lights, ever so ‘thoughtful.’

The large, dark room returns to the stillness it had before.

But…

He Lingtian’s phone keeps buzzing.

Gone is the emptiness and solitude, replaced by a lively bustle.

“Why aren’t you replying in the middle of the night?”

“Am I disturbing you and your little beauty?”

“Do you know how sad I was when I came home and didn’t see you?”

He Lingtian doesn’t rush to reply.

His fingers lightly tap the edge of the phone.

Sure enough, three minutes later, Qin Mang’s patience runs out, and she directly video calls him.

Missed call.

Missed call.

Missed call.

In the master bedroom of the Lakeview Manor, Qin Mang, having filmed for twenty days, feels like her bones are falling apart and immediately thinks of taking a bath to relax.

She lazily lies in the massage bathtub, her delicate, graceful figure surrounded by soft rose-colored bubbles. The air smells faintly of rose essential oil, with mist rising, creating a dreamy atmosphere.

To check her phone, Qin Mang exposes her slim, snow-white wrists, and under the light, they shine with a faint silvery glow. At this moment, her brows furrow slightly, showing signs of impatience.

She’s completely unconcerned about the bath and directly video calls.

But it doesn’t connect.

On the fourth video call—

Just as it was about to automatically hang up, it finally connects.

Qin Mang’s eyes light up, but when she sees only darkness, alarm bells go off. “Why won’t you let me see you? What are you doing?”

Could it be that he’s raising some little mistress in Ling City?

It’s only been a little over half a month since he’s been away!

“Watching a movie.”

The man’s voice is gravelly and magnetic, making her ears tingle with pleasure.

Before Qin Mang can speak, he turns the camera to the screen—

The exposure is a bit too much, and Qin Mang almost couldn’t recognize what movie it was.

Until the next second.

The classic line in the movie “…For me” rings out, and Qin Mang’s dark eyes widen in disbelief. “You, you, you… why are you watching this?”

He Lingtian’s voice, as if coming from a distant place, floats through, slightly ethereal.

“I’m just getting to know my wife’s preferences. Is there a problem?”

Qin Mang almost throws her phone out of frustration.

What preferences!

She frowns, suspicious that He Lingtian is being sarcastic.

It’s getting worse.

“Is this the posture?” He Lingtian gestures for her to look. “I remember the last time we were in the cinema, you shared this scene with me.”

Who the hell—

Qin Mang’s words are caught in her throat, and the embarrassing image from that day flashes in her mind.

Ah, ah, ah!

He Lingtian!

If it weren’t for needing something from him, she would’ve hung up immediately!

Qin Mang, with her shallow thoughts, can’t hide her feelings—love, hate, and everything else is written on her face.

He Lingtian sees it all clearly, his expression tired as he leans on the sofa. “Do you need something from me?”

Qin Mang is startled for a moment.

Then she quickly reacts, “Your Majesty is wise.”

And then she rattles on about her contract issues, ending with a pitiful tone, “My uncle won’t help me, he practically wants me to quit the industry.”

“Honey, only you can help me.”

He Lingtian laughs in anger.

So it’s because Qin Yan wouldn’t help her that she thought of him.

He takes the untouched white porcelain tea cup in his long fingers, sipping the now cold tea. His Adam’s apple subtly reveals a charm and aggression unique to men in the dark.

A few seconds later.

“Why should I help you?”

“You’re my husband.”

“Aren’t I the cold-blooded capitalist?”

“Mrs. He, I’m all for equal exchange. I do business with clarity.”

Qin Mang is stumped.

This damn man really holds grudges.

Equal exchange? Clear business?

Does she have anything He Lingtian might be interested in?

Money? Jewels?

Qin Mang thinks carefully for a while, and then catches sight of the rose-colored bath bubbles.

Oh, right.

She’s the most precious thing!

With a sudden realization, Qin Mang splashes water and stands up from the bathtub. “You wait.”

“I’ll make you willingly help me!”

He Lingtian lazily responds, “Alright.”

An hour later.

The little lion meows: 【There’s no one on your side, right?】

The cold-blooded capitalist: 【In the long night, Mr. He can’t multitask.】

What a sharp-tongued guy.

Since no one’s around, she can’t help but be a little mysterious, cutting straight to the point: “Then turn on the master bedroom’s surveillance.”

Surveillance in the master bedroom?

There’s surveillance in the master bedroom, but He Lingtian dislikes it and keeps it off most of the time.

Originally, Qin Mang thought that Mrs. He was just brushing her off, but the man, who had been uninterested, finally showed some interest.

The surveillance footage began.

The first thing in view was a young woman standing in the center of the master bedroom on the black wooden floor. She wore a red gauze long dress, as thin as a cicada’s wings, almost entirely woven from delicate ribbons of transparent gauze. Several loops of the ribbons were wrapped around her slender, snow-white arms, with the excess trailing down to her delicate ankles, fluttering as she twirled on the dark floor.

This dress was definitely not something she could wear outside. It seemed more like something meant for intimacy and fun between a couple.

Qin Mang’s gaze, full of affection, lifted as she looked at the surveillance camera. Her red lips parted slightly, and she said, “I’m starting now.”

He, familiar with lip reading, watched clearly.

The next moment, the young woman danced gracefully, each movement, each smile, exuding seductive charm that seemed to overflow from the screen. The satin-like red gauze ribbons flew up and fell back down. Eventually, they unraveled like ribbons from a gift, the red gauze completely falling to the floor. At her pure white ankles, it created a vivid, mesmerizing picture, the world losing its color, except for the touch of the red gauze that resembled cold, delicate snow.

If Qin Mang truly intended to seduce a man, no one could resist her allure. Not even he—

Cold and indifferent.

Self-disciplined and reserved.

He, He Lingji, gazed at the screen, captivated by her dazzling smile, brighter than the radiant red dress, like a burning sun crashing into his eyes.

Qin Mang’s finger hooked the red gauze ribbon wrapped around her arm, leaving only the last twist of it. Seemingly unaware, she tilted her head and innocently gazed at the camera. “Do I look good?”

He Lingji did not respond.

The movie was nearing its end, and the final line echoed—
“No one but you.”

No one but you.

…

The surveillance footage disappeared.

By the time Qin Mang had finished tidying up and returned to bed, she felt both exhausted and sleepy. After all, she had really stayed up for a long time. She had also danced again today.

Lying in the silk sheets, it felt as if she could fall asleep in the next second. But she fought off her drowsiness and sent He Lingji a voice message:
“Did you enjoy the performance of the female streamer? Not tipping a million isn’t right, right?”

Before going to sleep, she needed to get He Lingji’s promise.

…

…

Qin Mang waited a long time.

So long that her eyelids could no longer stay open.

Finally, her phone gave off a WeChat notification sound.

Half-closing her eyes, still blurry with sleep, she opened the message. Her jade-like ear pressed against the phone screen.

Perhaps it had been a while since He Lingji had spoken. His cold, hoarse voice came through, “Hmm… I’ve tipped several hundred million.”

Qin Mang, drowsy, checked her balance, thinking the large amount of money had caused a delay in the transfer.

She muttered softly, “Don’t need the money.”

She just needed He Lingji’s legal team.

With the sound of rain in the background, the man’s voice, even more hoarse, replied, “What a coincidence.”

It wasn’t about money.

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