You Make Money, I'll Spend It: Stepmother's Ultimate Pleasure in the Aristocratic Family

Chapter 11

The bedroom was unlit, and dim moonlight shone in through the window.

The two lay facing each other side by side.

In the weak light, a swirling, dark gleam appeared in Qi Mo's eyes, with fragmented points of light diffusing outwards, deep and captivating.

Sheng Mumu's breath hitched as she stared blankly for a good while before she could think of anything to say.

"I think I have insomnia. I should...go sleep in another room, so I don't disturb your rest."

Getting caught staring was embarrassing.

Trying to explain why she was staring would only multiply the embarrassment factor.

She wanted to pretend nothing had happened and slip away from this socially dead scene.

Sheng Mumu sat up, covering the neckline of her nightgown.

There were many rooms in the villa, all tidy thanks to the servants, so she could go sleep in any of them.

In fact, she had wanted to suggest separate bedrooms to Qi Mo for a while now, but never had the chance to meet him.

Now seemed like a good opportunity.

"You keep sleeping. I'll go next door."

Sheng Mumu threw off the covers and pushed herself up on her arms, ready to get up.

Suddenly, a large, broad palm grabbed her wrist, forcing her to stop moving.

As their skin made contact, they both felt a strange sensation.

Sheng Mumu's heart gave a sudden thump.

Although the man hadn't used much force, she froze, no longer moving.

At the banquet, he had put his arm around her waist, but there had been a layer of clothing between them.

This was the first time they touched with no barriers.

Senses amplified by the darkness, the smooth and delicate feel of the woman's wrist skin travelled from his palm.

Qi Mo's Adam's apple bobbed as his already hoarse voice grew even more gravelly.

"It would raise suspicions."

Sheng Mumu blanked for a moment.

Suspicions?

Perhaps from staring at his handsome face for too long, her mind was muddled.

She suffered a brain fart, misunderstanding Qi Mo's meaning, and also forgetting about their prenuptial agreement.

Her mouth acted on subconscious instinct beyond her brain's control, blurting out:

"Oh...sorry, I didn't consider that a husband and wife sleeping separately would raise suspicions about your, um, ability in that area. My apologies."

The most sensitive subject for a man was any suggestion he was inadequate down there.

A newlywed wife refusing to live with her husband implied something unspoken...

She had been careless.

The moment the words left her mouth, the air solidified.

She felt the large palm clasping her wrist tremble.

Qi Mo's temple pulsed as his brow furrowed deeply.

Did she have any idea what she was saying?

Sheng Mumu settled obediently back down, though her wrist was still held in Qi Mo's grasp.

She gently twisted her wrist, hinting he could let go now that she wasn't leaving.

For the sake of his image, she would play her role to the end.

After a long pause, a faint exhalation sounded in the darkness, and the hand gripping hers slowly relaxed.

Shortly after, the man's magnetic voice followed.

"When did I ever say I don't like you drinking?"

Instead of continuing the previous topic, Qi Mo thought of the message Qi Shaobai had sent him and asked about something that puzzled him.

He didn't recall ever saying such words.

Their conversations over the years could be counted on one hand.

He would never have required or prohibited her from doing anything.

But people make mistakes, so perhaps he had remembered wrong.

Facing uncertainty, he chose to ask directly.

Caught off guard by the sudden question, Sheng Mumu blanked. "!!!"

The little white lie she had told back then to resolve an emergency, she didn't expect it would actually reach Qi Mo's ears.

Only Qi Shaobai and her classmate had been present at the time, and her classmate would have had no opportunity to mention it to Qi Mo.

So the only possibility was that Qi Shaobai had said something.

Tsk.

The book said they rarely communicated as father and son, right?

How did Qi Mo even know about such a trivial matter?

Though the lights were off, Sheng Mumu still felt Qi Mo's gaze fixed on her.

His stare made her very uncomfortable.

The man waited silently for her response.

Seconds ticked by.

Suddenly, in the silence, the faintest sound of snoring arose.

"Huh—"

"Huh- Huh—"

Qi Mo: "......"

Sheng Mumu closed her eyes.

Light, deliberately rhythmic snores sounded.

Pretending to sleep was the most convenient solution she could think of right now.

Wild horses couldn't make her speak another word this moment.

Qi Mo's gaze still lingered on Sheng Mumu's face.

In the dim moonlight, her red lips were slightly parted, her nose small and straight, long lashes faintly fluttering.

After a while, the corners of Qi Mo's lips quirked into a helpless arc. In the silence, his low magnetic voice carried a trace of regret:

"You can do as you wish. I have no objections. Apologies for imposing on you to pretend to be my wife."

To him, their prenuptial agreement ending merely required some money.

But for the woman before him, it meant one more item under "Married, Divorced" in her history.

When it came down to it, he had imposed on her.

After speaking, Qi Mo lay back down.

He knew she had heard him.

In the darkness, Sheng Mumu held her breath, wide awake now.

Impose?

She didn't understand.

If not having to fulfill marital duties while living a life of luxury could be considered imposing, she didn't mind that kind of imposition.

She was tough. She could endure more of it.

...

In Sheng Mumu's imagination, Qi Mo would already have left for work after waking up.

But the next morning, when she yawned and stepped out of the room, she bumped right into the man coming out of his study after a video conference call.

He wore a black shirt. Since it wasn't a formal occasion, he hadn't tied a tie.

The top buttons were done up modestly, sleeves rolled to mid-forearm, revealing smooth, pale, strong wrists.

Seeing her emerge, the man halted and looked over.

Still groggy from just getting up, Sheng Mumu absently gazed back, eyes moist from her yawn. She blinked at him, clear and pure as a fawn.

Rubbing her eyes, she asked, "You didn't go to work?"

Qi Mo: "Mm, not much to do today. I can handle things at home."

As he spoke, his gaze swept over her face.

There were red pressure marks on her face from sleeping, which paired with her slightly bewildered expression gave her an absentminded, natural cuteness.

Recalling what had occurred last night, Sheng Mumu's ears inexplicably reddened. Every second his intense, burning gaze lingered on her face felt scorching.

Just as she wanted to make an excuse to leave, the butler came upstairs and announced to them:

"Sir, Madam, lunch is ready."

"Mm," Qi Mo acknowledged.

He looked to Sheng Mumu. "Perfect timing since you're up. Let's eat together."

Sheng Mumu numbly nodded.

Just as she was wondering if she should find some topic to chat about over their meal, a commotion sounded from downstairs.

The butler peeked down and beamed. "Young Master is awake too."

Since it was Sunday without school, the meal naturally turned into one for "the whole family."