Beg Me to Remarry
Chapter 267: Originally Meant to Get Married

Chapter 267: Chapter 267: Originally Meant to Get Married

Su Cheng was stunned, unable to utter the words that reached the tip of his tongue, because even amidst his current fury, he couldn’t deny the truth in Fu Han’s words.

While he was lost in thought, Old Zhou had already arranged the car.

Fu Han personally escorted Su Cheng to the car. She stood outside the gate, smiling at Su Cheng, waving goodbye to him.

The winding mountain road led downward, with beautiful scenery on both sides, and villas nestled in the woods, giving off a sense of retreat from the world.

Yet this place was right in the city center. A mountain like this in the city center always felt somewhat out of place, but when people talked about it, they mostly exclaimed over the exorbitant cost of land here.

Leaning against the seatback, Su Cheng blankly watched the scenery receding on both sides, his emotions were complex, as if he saw everything and yet saw nothing at all.

As the drunkenness ebbed away like the tide, Su Cheng finally felt able to think clearly.

He had always considered it ungentlemanly to confess to Fu Han while she had amnesia, yet the reality was that he had ultimately done the very thing he despised.

But having done it was one thing; the fact that he had failed was what truly pained him.

Su Cheng forcefully raked his fingers through his hair, feeling overwhelmed by complicated emotions.

After the failed confession, he felt sad and somewhat unwilling to accept it, yet why did he also feel a sense of relief in his heart?

He couldn’t understand it, nor could he explain it.

After the car descended the mountain, the driver in the front asked, "Mr. Su, where to?"

After some thought, Su Cheng gave the name of a square where Nan Qing’s gallery was located. He was eager to see Nan Qing right now.

He recalled what he had said to Nan Qing and felt the need to apologize, but he didn’t dare call her. Instead, he thought about visiting the gallery on the off chance that she might be there.

...

Not until Su Cheng’s car was out of sight did Fu Han finally turn around.

As she turned, she saw He Xing standing under a grapevine trellis nearby. The lush grape leaves created a canopy so dense it seemed like countless hands were trying to swallow He Xing.

She patted her chest and laughed, "You’re going to scare someone to death by standing there silently. It’s really frightening."

He Xing chuckled and reached out his hand to her, "Xiaohan, come here."

For no apparent reason, Fu Han’s heart began to race. Her face flushed as she looked at He Xing and, as if enchanted, she took small steps toward him.

He Xing looked at the hand resting in his palm. The back was as white as jade, with a slight callus on the palm, a perfect contradiction softened on Fu Han’s hand, making it flawlessly exquisite.

With a pull, he drew Fu Han into the depths of the grapevines and had her sit on a swing. He then stood behind it, pushing the swing irregularly.

"Xiaohan, what did Su Cheng say just now?" He Xing finally spoke as he placed his hands on Fu Han’s back again.

Fu Han’s lips turned up in a mischievous smile, "Are you really that interested in this question?"

"Of course," He Xing admitted frankly, smiling, "I care about everything related to you."

Fu Han’s mood inexplicably became complex, unable to feel the pure joy or sadness she once could, although she kept a poker face, "Nothing special, Su Cheng said he liked me and hoped I wouldn’t marry you."

As the swing soared to its highest point, strands of Fu Han’s hair fell around her temples, with a lock landing on her lips, which she absentmindedly brushed away.

He Xing’s emotions were so complex that he forgot to keep pushing the swing, instead grabbing it, "So, how did you answer him?"

Some things Fu Han may have forgotten, but He Xing hadn’t. He had gone to great lengths for Fu Han to return after three years, only for her to come back and falsely claim her feelings for Su Cheng, and even now, the internet was abuzz with talk of her and Su Cheng, with many people clamoring daily for their reunion.

As the swing came to a stop, Fu Han tilted her head to look up at He Xing beside her. Seeing the evident displeasure and suppressed frustration on his face, her mood instantly lifted.

She playfully kicked off the ground, sending the swing flying, higher than ever before. At the peak of the swing’s flight, her silvery laughter rang out, "I told him I was going to marry you, aren’t I?"

He Xing’s heart had felt clenched and breathless in pain, but upon hearing Fu Han’s words, it felt as if it had taken flight.

Even when Fu Han added, "I only said that to make Su Cheng give up hope," it did nothing to dampen He Xing’s spirits.

...

Nan Qing’s gallery.

She wore an apron with specks of paint on it, which somehow didn’t look untidy. In her hands, she held a palette full of colorful paints, and in front of her was a half-finished painting. Even only partially done, it was evident how beautiful the work was.

Wang Yixuan stood beside her, offering suggestions from time to time, "You should use azure for this spot, cerulean for that – and here, not bright red, better to go with orange-yellow."

Nan Qing, uncharacteristically patient, followed Wang Yixuan’s instructions. The results surprisingly surpassed her original design.

As she carefully added color, she smiled, "Believe it or not, if I put up this painting, it would sell within a week."

"If that happens, I’ll take that as a good omen," Wang Yixuan replied with a smirk, his dimples flashing, "How about you take three and I take seven?"

"You’re offering me such a big cut?" Nan Qing laughed, her round cheeks endearingly cute, giving one the urge to pinch them, "Aren’t you the one who goes traveling after earning money? Keep the money; I don’t want a share."

Wang Yixuan looked at Nan Qing with a touch of surprise, but his astonishment lasted no more than two seconds. He pinched her cheek, "You’re just too adorable. If I ever decide to get married, I might look for a woman like you."

Ever since she was young, everyone had described Nan Qing with the word "cute," yet that was the one term she had always resisted.

Unapologetically, she slapped away Wang Yixuan’s hand, not caring whether the paint from her brush would stain his white tee, "Don’t even try it. With a libertine like you, will there ever come a day you’d want to settle down?"

"You never know," Wang Yixuan dodged the paintbrush and shamelessly grinned, "What I’m doing now is sowing my wild oats. Perhaps one day, I’ll have an epiphany and think settling down isn’t so bad after all."