After Teasing the Heroine and Running Away, I Was Forced into Love - Chapter 39

He Family Mansion.

Pure white marble had been sculpted into flowing statues. A goddess draped in a sheer veil held a water jug, pouring water into the fountain.

The sound of rushing water filled the air.

The old mansion, with its British-style architecture, reminded He Wenzhi of the gardens he had lived in during his youth. Though elegant, he had always found them overly elaborate.

This mansion was primarily occupied by him and his wife; their son and daughter rarely stayed here.

At this moment, his face was ashen as he stared at the surveillance footage on his laptop.

This segment of the recording was unknown to him, as he had lost consciousness shortly after berating his son.

Yet he had arrived at the hospital several hours later.

In the footage, He Shanjian helped him onto the sofa, repeatedly calling out “Dad” with apparent affection.

But he delayed calling emergency services for an inexplicably long time, as if waiting for something. Was he waiting for his death?

The mere thought of this possibility made his heart, liver, spleen, and lungs ache with fury.

They say even tigers don’t devour their cubs. Even though he favored He Roushuang, it was because of the irreparable pain he carried for Roushuang’s mother.

In what should have been the most vibrant years of their lives, when he was at the peak of his vigor and Roushuang’s mother was at her most radiant and captivating.

Their ideals aligned perfectly. Without Roushuang’s mother’s help, he would have struggled to fully take control of the He Group.

But…

Fate loves to play cruel jokes.

His fiancée died just like that.

He couldn’t even bring himself to lift the white cloth covering her.

The missing bodily tissues had been replaced with carved wooden replicas by a skilled artisan.

The more grief-stricken his departure, the more he missed the departed.

So, when he was traveling alone and stopped at a dilapidated roadside store for water because his car’s supply had run out, he saw a face that resembled hers.

He Wenzhi froze.

He couldn’t help but feel this was fate’s way of compensating him.

His leather wallet slipped from his hand, scattering red banknotes and a cascade of bank cards across the ground.

But reality proved this wasn’t compensation at all—it was a debt collector come to claim what was owed.

He Wenzhi had no intention of making this a public spectacle. Aside from the scandal of father-son conflict damaging the company’s reputation, the mere gossip about He Roushuang and He Shanjian’s mutual animosity already kept their PR team scrambling.

Still…

He needed to be vigilant.

No one wants to die sooner than necessary.

He Roushuang was still unaware that her divisive scheme had already taken effect. After arguing with netizens for a while, she fell into an exhausted sleep.

Pursuing a straight woman was mentally and emotionally draining; she needed to maintain her energy at full capacity!

But her sleep was unusually deep, perhaps because her mind had been racing with chaotic thoughts. Even in her dreams, she saw the Female Lead and the Second Male Lead getting together.

Shi Qing looked at her apologetically, her eyes filled with resolve, yet she still managed to project that delicate, white-lotus-like pretense.

“I’m sorry, Roushuang…”

“I still prefer men.”

“He makes me feel safe…”

And He Roushuang was reduced to the role of the clownish Second Male Lead, destined for failure in the drama.

“Don’t you feel even a tiny bit of affection for me?”

“Or do you just want my money?!”

He Roushuang realized she couldn’t control her emotions in the dream. She couldn’t help but question Shi Qing, gripping her arm tightly.

Hot tears streamed down her face.

Why?

It wasn’t easy to make this decision!

Why did you betray my expectations?!

She jolted awake, realizing she was still trapped in a nightmare—a truly terrifying one, as if eighteen vengeful ghosts were screaming and chasing her relentlessly.

“Roushuang… what’s wrong?”

Shi Qing, half-asleep, was roused by the commotion. Her defenses were at their weakest upon waking, and she even forgot to maintain her innocent and obedient persona.

Typical younger woman, not calling me “Sister,” with a wild streak.

“Nothing, just a nightmare.”

He Roushuang didn’t notice Shi Qing’s change in address. She simply reached for a tissue from the nightstand and wiped away the fine beads of sweat that had broken out on her skin.

“Is there something you can’t tell me?”

Shi Qing’s courage suddenly surged. She remembered the dating advice she’d heard at the dinner table that day:

Appropriate comfort is essential.

She couldn’t pretend nothing was wrong and simply lie back down to sleep.

She wrapped her arms around He Roushuang from behind, the subtle lemon scent emanating from her body invading her senses.

Her shampoo must be lemon-scented.

For once, He Roushuang’s thoughts took an unexpected turn.

“Can you tell me?”

“What exactly was this nightmare about?”

Shi Qing recalled her mother’s words: “Different nightmares require worshiping different gods to dispel the lingering bad luck.”

Her mother had said that nightmares meant being haunted by mischievous spirits, and that visiting a temple to cleanse the bad luck would scare them away with the angry glares of the deities.

Though Shi Qing had always scoffed at such beliefs, she wondered if it might help He Roushuang now. Psychological therapy was still therapy, after all.

With Shi Qing’s arms around her back, He Roushuang could feel her steady heartbeat, so calm compared to her own racing pulse.

As a small act of punishment, or perhaps to test the boundaries of the Female Lead’s affection, He Roushuang turned to face Shi Qing directly, meeting her gaze.

“I dreamed you ran away with a handsome guy, no longer my gilded cage bird,” she said, her tone teasing but with an undercurrent of genuine vulnerability. “It made me wonder if my charm is really that weak. I woke up in a panic.”

He Roushuang spoke lightly, but only she knew how much truth lay hidden in her words. Falling for a straight girl is just this miserable, she thought.

Shi Qing remained silent for a moment, genuinely puzzled. How can my sister blame me for her nightmare when I was just sleeping peacefully? she thought, feeling a pang of injustice.

But she didn’t voice her frustration, only nodded thoughtfully.

“But I only like you,” Shi Qing said, her tone almost coaxing a child. “I’m not interested in those boys. They’re too immature.”

Anyone overhearing might have mistaken her for the older sister.

“I know,” He Roushuang replied calmly. She didn’t blame the Female Lead for this; after all, what one thinks about during the day often manifests in dreams at night—a habit she herself had cultivated.

Roushuang lay back on the soft, large bed, but tonight felt different. Her eyes remained wide open, an unusual bout of insomnia plaguing her.

She counted sheep, reaching nearly a thousand before finally drifting off to sleep.

So this is it… she thought. The downside of falling for a straight woman has finally surfaced. I’m actually losing sleep over a woman at this hour.

But when she opened her eyes again, Shi Qing was gone.

Roushuang felt disoriented. She had expected to find herself curled up in Shi Qing’s arms, a routine she had long grown accustomed to.

Sitting up, her hair was disheveled, like the mane of a horse after a gallop, strands flying wildly in the breeze.

Where’s Shi Qing?

Roushuang instinctively wanted to search for her, but then chided herself for being too clingy—hardly the behavior of a domineering CEO!

She had to maintain her aloof, commanding image.