Young Master Is Being Jealous Again!
Chapter 902: Third Master Huo: Ruanruan is Not Wrong, She Just Needs to be Disciplined

Chapter 902: Chapter 902: Third Master Huo: Ruanruan is Not Wrong, She Just Needs to be Disciplined

At first, after Qin Ruan got into the car, Huo Yunjiao remained silent.

He turned his head to look at the scenery outside the window, revealing a delicately picturesque profile. In the glow of the setting sun, his features were outlined with startling, heart-stopping beauty, and throughout, he did not even spare Qin Ruan a glance.

Feeling that something was off, she took the initiative to move closer.

Qin Ruan didn’t speak either, just sitting tightly next to him.

Huo Yunjiao sat leisurely, his body relaxed against the seat.

Time passed, and suddenly, he turned his head to look at Qin Ruan, then slowly lowered his gaze and closed his eyes.

The next second, he stretched out a hand to wrap around Qin Ruan’s slender waist, a deep and magnetic voice entering her ear, "Ruanruan, your eyes must look very beautiful when you cry. Should I make you cry bitterly once, so you will remember it for the rest of your life and learn your lesson?"

His hand slipped under the clothes around her waist, his large palm caressing her warm skin, his words hinting at an underlying meaning.

Qin Ruan immediately sat up straight, her waist turned somewhat soft from the touch of his cool-warm hand.

Upon reflecting on Huo Yunjiao’s words and realizing the danger in them, her heart clenched.

A flush of red spread across Qin Ruan’s pale face, and her normally cold demeanor suddenly seemed tinged with a hint of spring, making her appear bright and charming.

Huo Yunjiao opened his affectionate, peach blossom eyes, and drank in the captivating view of Qin Ruan’s face, laughing to himself, "What are you afraid of? It’s not like I’ll eat you up, right?"

His laughter tickled Qin Ruan’s ears like a feather.

Qin Ruan’s heartbeat accelerated in an instant, and the corners of her eyes reddened due to the disturbance of his roving hand.

In a soft voice, she stammered, "I really am wrong."

Huo Yunjiao chuckled softly, his deep voice tender and seductive, "No, Ruanruan is not wrong, just needs to be put in order."

With that one sentence, Qin Ruan’s impending punishment was sealed.

Her reckoning had just begun.

Determined to teach her a lesson, Huo Yunjiao, once they arrived home, grabbed her hand and dragged her to the upstairs bedroom.

Huo Qiang and Huo Zhi stood downstairs, exchanging uncertain looks.

Not long after Huo Yunjiao and Qin Ruan had gone upstairs, someone walked into the hall and announced that Huo Qi, of a side branch, and his girlfriend were here to visit, mentioning that Qin Ruan had said she herself would meet them before letting anyone in.

Without a second thought, Huo Qiang refused, "No visitors."

The visitor was Awen, Huo Qi’s bodyguard.

With a look of bewilderment, he faltered, "The Seventh Young Master is still waiting," his attitude persistent.

Huo Qiang’s pretended kindness did not reach his eyes, and he pointed upstairs, "If you’ve got the guts to interrupt the master and Madam, feel free to go up and report."

At this time, anyone who went upstairs was plainly tired of living.

Even if something monumental had happened, they could not disturb the master and Madam’s private world.

Awen didn’t understand; he had just seen the Third Young Master and the young Madam return, they had only gone upstairs moments ago, so why couldn’t he disturb them?

It was broad daylight, and he did not let his thoughts wander in other directions, but remembered his place and didn’t dare to disturb them upstairs.

Awen retreated to the door, thinking of approaching Qin Ruan after she would come downstairs.

Outside Huo Mansion, Huo Qi and his girlfriend were embracing to keep warm in the cold wind.

The two were unaware that they would not see Qin Ruan today.

Ke Family.

Ke Zhibin had Hen Nianzhen’s body brought back home.

The sudden funeral shocked all the friends and family of the Ke Family, as well as business associates.

Brothers Ke Yihui and Ke Yiming didn’t have time to digest the bizarre experiences within the day; they became busy.

They had to entertain the guests who came to express condolences and also take care of their grandmother who was agitated upon hearing of Hen Nianzhen’s death.

Upstairs, sorting through Hen Nianzhen’s belongings, Ke Zhibin found a hospital diagnostic report.

He had no idea that Hen Nianzhen had been sick, and with an incurable disease, at that.

Upon seeing the result on the back of the diagnostic report, and whatever he imagined, Ke Zhibin couldn’t help but have his eyes redden.

Thinking of his wife’s suicide at the police station, his already sympathetic heart soured.

"Thump thump——"

The door was knocked, and Ke Zhibin awkwardly wiped the corners of his eyes before turning to look at Ke Minghui standing outside.

"What is it?"

Ke Yihui: "Dad, President Liu has arrived, do you want to go down and meet him?"

President Liu recently had business with Yahuang Entertainment, and was involved in a new drama shooting worth hundreds of millions.

Ke Zhibin couldn’t use the excuse of being too grief-stricken to meet guests.

Ke Zhibin carefully folded the diagnosis report and tucked it into his pocket: "Come downstairs with me."

Ke Yihui obediently followed behind him; halfway there, Ke Zhibin suddenly said, "Your Aunt Hen likes jewelry. Later, have someone find a few good-quality pieces to place beside her when she is buried, and buy more burial items too."

"I’ll arrange that later."

"And also..." Ke Zhibin started but found it hard to continue.

Ke Yihui looked at him: "Hmm?"

Ke Zhibin hurriedly said, "Buy more paper effigies, male ones, and make sure they look good."

Young Master Ke: "..."

Ke Zhibin didn’t dare meet his son’s eyes, coughed twice to conceal his embarrassment, and added, "Just tell them later. If all else fails, model them after the young hunks your Aunt Hen has kept over the past few years."

He was too embarrassed to handle it himself and had no choice but to pass the task onto his eldest son.

It took Ke Yihui a while to find his voice again: "Dad, are you sure?"

Ke Zhibin glared fiercely, snapping, "Nonsense!"

Ke Yihui composed his facial expression: "Alright then, how many do you want?"

Ke Zhibin answered, "Start with twenty, and then burn more for her periodically. Don’t use too many at once."

The young master rubbed his temple, deeply puzzled by the emotional intricacies between Aunt Hen and his father.

He could only resign himself and say, "I understand."

For a son to burn paper effigies for his stepmother, and all handsome men at that, the situation felt profoundly bizarre.

The conversation ended as awkwardly as it began, and the Ke father and son went downstairs to meet their guest.

...

Huo Mansion.

In the dim bedroom, the light was subtle and the air was filled with an unusual, pungent scent.

It was the smell of skimmia flowers, permeating the entire room and quite intoxicating.

Qin Ruan was still being punished long after the deed was done.

Her delicate and lovely face was marred, her cheeks flushed with allure, revealing an inviting charm.

Her water-hued beautiful eyes shifted, exuding a bewitchingly glamorous light.

It was like the extreme fear one feels on a roller coaster, achieving a sort of adrenaline rush, her face twisted with faint traces.

Even so, this did not affect the beauty of her lovely face.

It only made people feel that this version of Qin Ruan was more mature and even more stunning.

Huo Yunjiao leaned in, whispering into Qin Ruan’s ear with a low chuckle, "Ruanruan, are you still crying?"

The deep, sexy laugh was full of pleasure and satisfaction.

It was a truly unsavory taste in amusement.

Qin Ruan, feeling utterly desolate, choked out, "I can’t cry anymore."

She didn’t even have the strength to lift her hand, let alone cry.

If crying were of any use, she wouldn’t mind shedding more tears.

But if crying was futile, then why waste the tears?

Huo Yunjiao kissed Qin Ruan’s reddened earlobe, then rolled over and off.

He reclined against the headboard in a casual and languid pose, his usual genteel and scholarly image completely gone, replaced by a hint of demonic charm and a subtle, uninhibited air of roguishness.