**Chapter 29: Justified and Proper**

The night was thick and quiet in the early hours, with no stars or moon—so silent it felt cold and desolate.

Yet the lakeside villa was brightly lit.

Qin Mang, wrapped in a thin robe, sat on the carpet. Her soft, slender arms rested on the edge of the bed as she gazed at the man lying on it receiving a fever-reducing injection. Her delicate brows were slightly furrowed.

He Lingji raised a hand to cover his forehead, shielding himself from the harsh overhead light.

Even while sick, the man’s skin remained cold-toned and snow-white. Though his body burned with fever, every inch of visible skin was starkly pale, the veins on the back of his hand faintly protruding like trails of ink, flowing toward his wrist bone.

He looked like a priceless, cold porcelain statue.

If Qin Mang hadn’t touched his fingers herself, she wouldn’t have known they were burning hot.

There was no way to tell he had such a severe fever just by looking.

The family doctor beside them removed the needle from He Lingji’s hand but didn’t find anything particularly wrong. “President He is young and healthy. He just needs to get through tonight. Once the fever breaks, he’ll be fine.”

He Lingji rarely fell ill, but when he did, it was always serious. And the fever-reducing shots worked slowly—he usually had to endure it on his own.

The doctor gave a final reminder, “Any part of the body heating up due to the fever is normal. No need to worry.”

He Lingji was used to this.

His voice was hoarse as he gave a soft reply and ordered everyone to leave.

The warm, faintly fragrant air now carried a lingering smell of disinfectant.

It wasn’t unpleasant.

Just a little odd.

A few minutes later—

Silence returned to the room.

“Your fever’s almost at 40°C. You didn’t even notice?” Qin Mang scolded. “If you hadn’t burned me awake in the middle of the night, I’d probably be inheriting your estate tomorrow.”

Hmph.

He was this sick and still found time to think nonsense.

She glanced at *that* place.

That damned man had once blamed her for being too *rough*.

But who’s the heavy one now?

Probably feeling overheated, He Lingji threw off the blanket and slowly sat up, leaning against the headboard, his features weary. His fever-reddened lips stood out brightly.

He said, “Go print out a will.”

“What for?” she asked.

“So Mrs. He can inherit the estate justifiably and properly.”

Qin Mang stared into his deep, shadowed eyes: “…”

His skin was even paler than usual—icy white. His gray-blue eyes, fogged by fever, had turned a mysterious dark blue, lacking focus as he looked at her.

Everything about him was cold-toned, yet combined, it gave off an enchanting, soul-sucking aura—cold yet irresistible.

Tch—

Sick and still flirting.

Fine.

Since he’s sick, she’d let it go… for now.

Qin Mang climbed into bed and tripped over his bent leg.

Her palm, pressing against his silk robe—

Burning hot.

She gasped, her eyes—usually sultry and expressive—now round like a startled cat’s, filled with disbelief.

Instinctively, she peeled back the robe and reached out.

“Hiss—”

So hot!

Qin Mang puffed out her cheeks, blowing on her palm.

Her skin was turning red from the heat.

“Are you even human?”

This was not normal!

He Lingji was dizzy from her flustered movements. Pressing his fingers to his temples, he muttered, “It’s 2 AM.”

The message was clear.

Time to sleep.

The ever-dignified man—unshaken even in the face of catastrophe—was finally down with a fever and needed care.

And now he was showing signs of *inhuman* symptoms.

Qin Mang suddenly remembered her role as a beautiful, virtuous little wife. If she didn’t show off now, when would she?

Seize the moment and move him to tears!

Then he’d never say no to her again!

In her eyes, He Lingji now looked like a defanged tiger—ready to be toyed with.

This little wife wasn’t going down without a fight.

She ran out and came back with ice packs still fogging with chill.

He Lingji, calm as ever, showed a flicker of emotion.

Then watched in alarm as she reached out toward him with icy hands.

“Quick, while it’s still cold. Let’s cool you down.”

The cold soothed her previously burned hand.

He Lingji pulled his long leg up to block her. “If you must use the ice, put it on—”

“Here?”

“Yes.”

Qin Mang was very matter-of-fact. “This temperature is not normal. Fever treatment always includes cold compresses.”

He Lingji, for once, was speechless.

Finally, he murmured, “I’m afraid of cold.”

Qin Mang considered this seriously.

She was feeling warm too.

She popped a couple of ice cubes into her mouth.

Then noticed He Lingji’s gaze land on her lips.

Qin *Considerate Little Wife* Mang blinked and asked, “Want me to melt it for you…”

“Shut up.”

“Sleep.”

He Lingji tossed the ice tray to the bedside, pulled her down beside him, and covered them both from head to toe with the blanket.

Qin Mang was stunned for a second.

Recalling the heat from his earlier embrace—

Several minutes passed.

She carefully peeked out from the blanket, looking at his profile and asked quietly, “Are you really going to sleep like this?”

“Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

Even with a 40°C fever, He Lingji didn’t lose his sharp tongue.

Especially after being tormented by her for so long.

“What, scared I’ll poke you?”

Qin Mang stared at him for a few seconds.

To hell with being a virtuous wife.

To hell with being a little sweetheart.

This bastard deserved to die alone!

Bringing up the thing she wanted to forget most, just to jab her with it.

Before falling asleep, Qin Mang told herself not to care about this ungrateful jerk. But once asleep, she instinctively kept reaching out to touch his forehead, checking if the fever had gone down.

He Lingji didn’t sleep much, his fever too high.

He naturally noticed all of Qin Mang’s quiet concern. At some point, his dark blue eyes regained their usual calm and clarity.

Silently, habitually, he caught her little hand and held it still.

It wasn’t until dawn broke that He Lingji finally felt a little sleepy.

The curtains were only half drawn.

As the first strand of golden morning light streamed into the room, Qin Mang groggily sat up, pressing her palm against his forehead.

Cool again.

She finally relaxed a little.

Then, her hand wandered down.

And—

Just like the night before.

Qin Mang sat cross-legged, frowning beautifully as if she were studying a strange creature.

The next second—

Just as she finished a phone call and looked up, her eyes met his familiar gray-blue ones.

Cool, noble.

Still the same man from before—aloof and untouchable.

Qin Mang’s long lashes fluttered.

She’d just acted a *little* bit perverted, hadn’t she?

He Lingji calmly tied his robe, which she had pulled open earlier, and walked toward the bathroom.

His lips curved faintly. “Mrs. He, I’ll schedule a biology class for you someday.”

Qin Mang had just woken up and her brain hadn’t fully kicked in.

It took her a few seconds.

Then she finally got the meaning behind his words.

She was not pleased.

She heard no water running in the bathroom and stomped over, barefoot, and knocked on the door, mimicking his usual snarky tone, “President He better be careful not to burn his *own* hand.”

“Need some burn ointment?”

She said her piece and ran.

Didn’t care what kind of expression He Lingji had.

She just needed to vent.

After caring for him all night—

Hmph.

She still got mocked in the end.

…

The new studio was located right across from the He Group headquarters, where every inch of land was worth its weight in gold. It was only one floor and less than 1,000 square meters, but more than enough.

After all, there weren’t many of them.

Only Qin Mang as an artist.

From the large floor-to-ceiling window in her lounge, she could see directly across to the CEO’s office.

Unfortunately—

The glass across the way was a special type. All she could see was a blurry, foggy blur.

Qin Mang lazily leaned back on the sofa, listening to Qi Rong excitedly share the details of last night’s escapade.

“I slept with a super hot guy last night!”
“He’s the best I’ve ever had—technically speaking!”
“And his stamina? Unreal. Wild and passionate. You know that feeling, right?”
“For the first time, I actually didn’t get enough of a man.”
“But hey, you probably wouldn’t be interested. After all, someone like President He—such a premium guy—you only barely agreed to sleep with him.”

She went on and on.

Qin Mang summed it up in her head:
Qi Rong had a steamy hookup at a high-end banquet last night.

“So what about your college boy toy? Dumped him?”
Qin Mang took a sip of the black coffee brewed by Fu Yuan herself. Every sip felt like a test of endurance.

Black coffee gave her a sense of fullness.
It helped suppress her appetite.

Qi Rong waved it off casually. “He’s not really my boyfriend. No need to be responsible.”
“So you don’t need to get hung up on that He guy either. No one even knows how he performs in that department.”

“Men—once the lights are off, they’re pretty much the same. It’s all about technique and physique.”
“Of course, there’s also… hehe—”
“Equipment.”

Hearing the suggestive laugh, Qin Mang recalled that scene from this morning.
She had never seen another man’s before.
So she had no idea whether He Lingji was normal or not.

“How do you define good equipment?”
“First of all, it’s gotta be at least 20 cm. That’s the baseline.”
“Second, it needs a certain… you know what, I’ll send you a hand-drawn diagram later.”
“It was burning hot—is that normal?”
“What the hell?!”
“There’s a guy that perfect?”
“Introduce him to me—now!”

Qi Rong was thrilled. She had been playing the field for years, but had never run into such a top-tier specimen. The thought alone was exhilarating.

Qin Mang got the message:
“Don’t even think about it.”
“He’s mine.”

Qi Rong clicked her tongue. “So unfair—all the good ones end up with you.”

Oh well, forget it.
She wasn’t done playing with her latest fling anyway.

…

Originally, Qin Mang had been worried about getting revenge from that petty dog He Lingji, and was considering moving back to her pre-marriage luxury apartment downtown for a few days.
It was nearby anyway.
Also more convenient for her weight loss efforts.

Who knew that the very afternoon He Lingji recovered from his fever, he’d go abroad?

His secretary Cong reported it to her.
She didn’t hear a word from the man himself.

Even after Qin Mang joined the filming of *“Vanity”*, she still hadn’t seen He Lingji again.

Qin Mang felt enlightened:
They were just a commercial marriage between two elites.
Living separate lives and staying out of each other’s work was the correct path.

Career focus was the real sweet spot!

As for men—they were just seasoning in life.

Though Qin Mang was the female lead in *“Vanity”*, her role wasn’t that heavy.
She first appeared in flashbacks as the male lead’s tragically deceased first love.
Midway through the film, she returned as a substitute the male lead rescued, only for it to be revealed she was the reincarnation of his first love’s soul.
In the end, after being pierced by the male lead’s sword, her true identity was finally revealed.
The male lead’s spiritual core collapsed, and he nearly fell into darkness.
Fueled by the hope of resurrecting her, he set off once more on his journey.

Qin Mang had to portray two roles in one—an intense test of acting skill.

The shoot wasn’t in a film studio, but deep in a remote mountain forest.
Signal was extremely weak.
Qin Mang rarely contacted the outside world.
And no one could easily reach her either.

Little did she know, something major was happening outside.

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