**Chapter 60** **Strict Family Tutoring**

Ding-a-ling—

The alarm clock suddenly rang.

From beneath an exquisite silk blanket that didn’t match the room’s decor, a fair, delicate hand reached out. Qin Mang instinctively groped toward the sound.

Her fingertips suddenly poked something soft.

“What is this?”

The girl, still half-asleep, slowly opened her eyes.

Qin Mang liked to sleep on her side. With her cheek against the pillow, she came face to face with a cute little white lion sitting beside it.

Her palm touched the fluffy head of the little white lion.

Super soft.

Her peripheral vision caught sight of her arm, and she paused for a few seconds.

It had been carefully rebandaged with a beautiful butterfly knot—not the work of a doctor.

The answer was obvious.

Qin Mang blinked slowly, dumbfounded for a few seconds.

Then she finally came to her senses.

Last night wasn’t a dream!

He really came—He Lingji.

She suddenly sat up, hugging the little lion, her eyes lighting up as she looked around the room.

“He Lingji—!”

The small room could be seen in its entirety at a glance.

In the silence, only her lingering voice remained.

No one was there.

Qin Mang looked down and pinched the little lion’s ear.

A little disappointed.

…

“President He arrived at 3 a.m. and left at 6,”

Meng Ting said, looking at Qin Mang like she was some kind of femme fatale.

“Secretary Cong said the President has been busy with overseas markets lately and travels abroad every few days.”

He emphasized, “He’s very busy.”

Film set, psychiatric hospital building.

It was midsummer, and despite the lack of air conditioning, the building felt cold and damp.

The director had previously said that many psychiatric patients had committed suicide by jumping off this building.

There was even a graveyard nearby.

So the place carried a heavy, eerie energy.

But Qin Mang still felt hot.

She held a mini fan and blew it at herself.

Hearing Meng Ting’s sour tone, she glanced at him, “What, jealous?”

Meng Ting: “…”

Yes, he was totally jealous.

Why hadn’t he picked a reincarnation like that!

Qin Mang, on the surface, acted calm.

But her mind kept replaying last night—the gentle voice she’d heard half-asleep, and that final, feather-light kiss.

Her fingertips unconsciously touched the small red mole on the tip of her nose.

The next moment—

“Look, President He is trending.”

Meng Ting handed over a tablet.

“Luckily, no fans know you’re filming in Kuncheng.”

Otherwise, the speculation would be endless.

He Lingji, a man outside the entertainment industry, easily made the trending list with just one photo.

The photo seemed to have been taken unintentionally.

Through rows of seats, the faint image of a composed, handsome man was visible. He sat in a noisy train carriage, his side profile perfect and noble, as if he were detached from the world around him.

> “It’s like he’s the only deity left in the world—my god, this divine aura is unreal!”

> “Ugh, every time I fall for this ethereal beauty again.”

> “That profile is flawless!”

> “Wait, don’t domineering CEOs usually travel by private jet? Why would he be here in the middle of the night? At least a helicopter?”

Before the discussion could heat up, the photo vanished from the entire internet.

In its place—

He Group V: Private schedule. Please don’t share.

> “Even if I wanted to, I can’t now. I didn’t even save the picture!”

> “Low-key is fine, but can we keep the photo?”

> “Saving it doesn’t help, either.”

Not only did the photo disappear, but even the trending topic vanished without a trace.

Some sharp-eyed netizens noted—

> “Have you noticed? Any trending topic about President He gets handled right away. He never hogs public resources. But if it’s about showing affection with his wife, he lets it go!”

> “Wait—what?”

> “It's true!”

> “Haha, @HeLingji post some PDA, we get it~”

> “@HeLingji godly husband, post a selfie, post a selfie~”

No one expected a response.

But then—

He Group Official Weibo: The Boss’s account has been confiscated by his wife.

That single post redirected all attention.

No one cared anymore why He Lingji took a high-speed train late at night or why the trending topic was removed.

Honestly, the He Group’s PR team was amazing.

Qin Mang and the others watched the whole PR process unfold.

Even Meng Ting, an industry insider, couldn’t help but admire the timing.

A Tong squealed sweetly: “Ugh, he rushed over in the middle of the night just to see her for three hours, cleaned up all the media fallout, and made sure she wasn’t affected at all. What kind of heavenly husband is this!”

Are all business-marriage couples like this?

Qin Mang thought of many seemingly loving but actually distant couples.

Her gaze dimmed.

Thinking of the reason He Lingji came to visit in silence…

The girl’s porcelain-white fingertips pressed against her rapidly beating heart.

Qin Mang had always been carefree in her actions, but for the first time—she regretted it.

Because—

She was the one who overstepped first.

After more than another month of filming, her schedule remained packed, leaving no time to think about anything else. The fifty-square-meter room remained the same, except now there was a cute little white lion by her pillow.

Qin Mang stubbornly placed it in the exact spot she first found it every night.

Until the premiere press conference of “Vanity.”

Qin Mang, as the female lead, had her attendance scheduled early. She asked the director for two days off—with much persuasion.

She would have to shoot a night scene immediately upon returning.

Coincidentally, the premiere was held in North City, at a castle hotel not far from the Qin family’s old mansion.

Since debuting, Qin Mang had moved around constantly for work and lived in Deep City. She hadn’t been home in a long time.

Though time was tight, before the press conference, she planned to visit her “left-behind guardian”—her uncle.

September in North City was still scorching, like it could burn your heart.

Fresh from the cool, secluded set, she wasn’t used to the heat.

The Qin family’s old residence was in North City’s earliest wealthy district—rare and priceless.

The mossy stone walls were covered in vibrant vines, draping down and trying to hide the marks of time.

Qin Mang had mixed feelings about the place.

Before age seven, it held all her happiest childhood memories.

After her mother died, the colors faded to gray.

The old housekeeper, who had watched her grow up, was full of joy: “Miss, you’re back!”

“Second Master was just talking about you.”

“Where’s my uncle?”

The sun was blazing outside. Qin Mang finally let out a long breath. She wore a light silk spaghetti-strap dress, but her pale face was flushed from the heat.

The housekeeper, knowing her special condition, quickly had the temperature lowered and brought her favorite frozen treat.

“Second Master is away on a business trip.”

“He’s been really busy and hasn’t been home in days.”

As he talked about Qin Yan, the housekeeper shared many updates.

Qin Mang listened attentively.

Since her uncle was away, she didn’t plan to stay long. Once she cooled down, she’d leave.

But the housekeeper, having not seen her in so long, didn’t want her to go so quickly.

“Your room’s been redecorated. Why not rest, take a bath, change your clothes, and leave once it cools down outside?”

Faced with his hopeful gaze, Qin Mang hesitated for two seconds.

Then nodded.

The housekeeper couldn’t hide his joy: “I’ll have someone draw your bath right away.”

He kept muttering about the new massage bathtub—she’d definitely love it.

It was hard for Qin Mang to reject the elderly man’s kindness.

As she passed through the familiar yet unfamiliar courtyard back to her room…

Her gaze fell on a large tulip garden. Her mother’s favorite flower—each one personally planted by her father.

Qin Mang hesitated a few seconds.

Then, as if compelled by a ghost, she pushed open the garden gate.

The room inside carried the cold emptiness of long abandonment.

It was obvious someone regularly cleaned it, but a thin layer of dust still settled quickly.

Qin Mang stood in the hall.

She picked up a framed photo from a black wooden cabinet.

The woman in the photo smiled radiantly—a stunning beauty. The man holding her waist was also outrageously handsome, with a face that screamed charm and allure.

Qin Mang lowered her eyelashes and stared for a long time before slowly reaching out to wipe the dust away.

The maid who managed the garden placed tea and snacks nearby. She saw the photo and commented, “Miss, you really took the best of both your parents.”

“Do I?”

Qin Mang’s tone was calm, without any trace of joy at the compliment.

“You do.”

The middle-aged maid nodded after examining her closely.

“They say when parents love each other, their children are born with the best of both.”

She hadn’t been at the Qin residence for long, but had occasionally heard the other servants mention that, back in the day, the eldest master of the Qin family and his wife were very much in love. Unfortunately, their marriage was short-lived—his wife passed away young. The eldest master never remarried and eventually became a monk because of it.

At any age, hearing about such a deep, unwavering love is enough to stir envy and admiration.

Qin Mang lowered her eyes to look at her own reflection in the glass photo frame.

Their faces almost overlapped.

It was easy to imagine how deeply in love they had been.

Even those who mentioned them spoke with envy and sentimentality.

Qin Mang closed the album.

She took a sip of the slightly hot floral tea. But what she said was as cold as a winter night breeze: “They did love each other—so much that they couldn't even see they had a daughter connected to them by blood.”

The maid froze.

The next second, Qin Mang suddenly asked after glancing at the worn silver ring on the maid's ring finger, “Do you love your husband?”

The young woman tilted her head, her eyes clear and puzzled.

“Love? I complain about this and that, but we’ve been together for over a decade without ever fighting… I don’t even know if that counts as love?”

She listed many of her husband’s flaws, yet her eyes were filled with tenderness.

Looking into that light in the maid’s eyes, Qin Mang quietly asked, “Would you be willing to die for him?”

The maid was caught off guard: “…”

Her mind instinctively started weighing the question.

The air froze for several dozen seconds.

Qin Mang suddenly smiled.

The maid’s face turned pale.

“Miss, I…”

Qin Mang just patted her shoulder.

“Don’t be scared. It’s normal to weigh it.”

“Those who are willing to die for love—those are the ones who are pathological, abnormal.”

Like her father.

Qin Mang left the tulip-filled courtyard without a trace of sentimentality.

Because her final memory of that place was this: her father holding her mother’s photo, attempting suicide by wrist-slashing, then by drinking, even trying to set himself on fire.

Love had driven her once elegant and refined father into madness, into a state of pathetic instability.

He had immersed himself entirely in his dramatic, life-and-death love story.

So—

She once vowed to herself that she would never touch love.

Love had the power to utterly distort someone.

…

After calmly showering and changing, Qin Mang left the old house.

Inside the car,

She looked sideways out the window at the familiar building fading into the distance.

It was as if another figure appeared in the reflection on the car window.

He was rational, restrained, indifferent, superior, above everything—and could earn enough to support her little hobbies.

They had been the perfect match for a political marriage.

Qin Mang had originally married He Lingji for exactly that—a loveless, plastic marriage.

They were well-matched in terms of family background and needs.

After marriage, they would each focus on their own careers, respect each other’s space, and occasionally play the role of a loving couple in front of family. From time to time, they’d handle physical needs in a legal and logical way.

Neither would have extramarital affairs—for health reasons.

After all, she had a bit of a cleanliness obsession, something He Lingji also appreciated.

But somewhere along the line, everything began to change.

She actually developed a possessiveness toward He Lingji that went beyond marriage.

Qin Mang pursed her red lips, everything around her now irritated her.

Even the orange-red sunset outside the window looked like a blazing fireball—

Scorching her nerves bit by bit.

“President He also seems to be in North City.”

“Do you want to meet him?”

It had been two or three months since Qin Mang had last seen her so-called husband. Meng Ting did a mental count.

The premiere was over, and they had the evening free.

Plenty of time.

So he kindly asked.

Qin Mang exhaled lightly, suppressing her restlessness.

Though she had been spoiled since childhood, she never took her negative emotions out on others.

She leaned against the seat with her eyes closed, seeming a bit tired. Even her lashes didn’t move.

“Forget it, let’s just go back to the filming set.”

Meng Ting muttered quietly, “You’re actually pretty dedicated.”

He hadn’t expected the young lady to truly commit this time.

…

At 10 p.m., Qin Yan found out from the butler that the little spendthrift he raised had returned.

Qin Yan raised an eyebrow.

“She left already?”

The butler sighed, “She only stayed for two hours.”

“But… Miss did visit that courtyard today.”

Qin Yan’s long fingers paused as he unbuttoned his cuffs.

Half an hour later.

Qin Yan gently brushed the now-clean photo frame.

He listened calmly as the maid recounted her conversation with Qin Mang.

When she finished, she nervously asked, “Second Master, I…”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

Qin Yan’s gaze was calm, his forehead marked with a Buddha’s mole that gave off a reassuring presence.

When only Qin Yan and the old butler remained in the room—

Qin Yan stared out at the tulip field for a long time without speaking.

He understood Qin Mang well.

She wouldn’t randomly show interest in a maid’s views on love.

He couldn’t help but sigh lightly.

He had always feared Qin Mang had inherited her father’s obsession with love. That’s why he went to such lengths to raise her carefree and indifferent, hoping she’d never fall in love her whole life.

When he chose He Lingji back then, it had been a carefully calculated decision.

First, He Lingji looked like someone who was cold as an iceberg, utterly incapable of romantic entanglements. He was also a top-level earner, fully capable of supporting his spoiled niece.

One could earn, the other could spend. One cold as ice, the other carefree.

They were the perfect political match.

Qin Yan even envisioned a future where the two lived a “mutually respectful as ice” type of happiness.

Who would’ve thought—

That sparks could still fly between them?

At that moment, the butler asked anxiously, “Miss suddenly brought that up—could it be something happened between her and the young master?”

Qin Yan rested his arm on the wheelchair and tapped the small red mole on his brow for a while before finally saying, “Let it be—everyone has their own fate.”

Qin Mang didn’t know that her little uncle had already guessed what was on her mind.

After the premiere, she returned to Kun City without hesitation.

Strangely enough,

When her flight from North City landed at Lincheng International Airport, she didn’t return to the set by car. Instead, as if possessed, she bundled up tightly and boarded the high-speed train He Lingji had once taken.

To experience what he had experienced.

Deceiving herself into thinking this could settle the “emotional debt.”

Coincidentally—

She passed by the very same doll machine, glowing alone in the dark street that night.

Staring at the little white lion pressed against the claw machine’s transparent glass, Qin Mang thought of the little white lion on her pillow. Realizing something, she said, “Stop the car.”

A few minutes later… Meng Ting expressionlessly watched the famous actress play the claw machine by the roadside in the middle of the night. The key point was— Qin Mang also had no expression.

“Buy more.”

Meng Ting clutched his wallet tightly.

“Miss, you’ve already tried a hundred times?”

And caught nothing. Still don’t get it? Miss is absolutely terrible at claw machines!

Qin Mang stared at the familiar little white lion inside the machine. She held out her hand. “Tokens.” “If you won’t exchange them, I’ll do it myself.”

“Yes, yes…”

Meng Ting quickly hid her phone, afraid Miss would lose her temper and exchange all the tokens from the machine!

One hour later, Qin Mang was even more depressed. Three hundred tries, and she hadn’t caught a single one!

Back in the nanny van, Meng Ting felt secondhand embarrassment and tried to comfort her.

“You know, everyone has a nemesis.”

“Yours might just be the claw machine.”

Qin Mang returned to the film set with a gloomy face. The director was thrilled.

“Quick, get ready to shoot.”

“That’s the expression!”

“Keep it just like that!”

“Makeup! Get the female lead into costume now!”

“Everyone stop praying and pull down those talismans—we’re filming now!”

Meng Ting thought the whole thing was absurd. This set had no normal people. The director was a filming maniac. The crew members were burning incense and pasting talismans all over the exits of the psychiatric hospital where they were shooting. Their mix of Taoist and Buddhist rituals was impressive. Fitting for a show filmed in a psychiatric hospital— The entire crew had gone mad.

Qin Mang kept that depressed expression all the way into the shoot. Director: “Perfect!”

“Cut.” “Next scene.”

Qin Mang watched the playback, her elegant brows furrowed.

“I moved slightly off mark. Let’s do it again.”

The director was surprised that such a young actress held herself to such high standards, and of course didn’t object. “Sure.” Director: “This one’s even more perfect!”

Qin Mang: “Still not quite right. Again.”

Director: “Flawless!”

Qin Mang reluctantly nodded.

“That one’s acceptable.”

From that night onward, Qin Mang became stricter with her acting, even more of a perfectionist than the director. The director was delighted—they clicked instantly. And so, the whole crew, amid the smoke of incense, got caught up in a frenzy of acting excellence.

Qin Mang filled her schedule to the brim. The only time she allowed herself to relax— Was running off to that claw machine downtown. Every time, she came back empty-handed. Losing over and over, yet refusing to give up. Failing again and again, but still fighting on.

Eventually, passersby started recognizing her and filmed her trying for nearly an hour, posting videos to Weibo.

In the video— A girl in a black bucket hat, the lower half of her beautiful and highly recognizable face visible. The comments started off praising her: “Wow, her posture’s perfect—definitely a claw machine pro!”

“Nice, she got it.”

“Ah, it fell… just a fluke. She’ll get it next time.”

“Qin Goddess, your hands are so white and slender—forget the claw, grab me instead…”

“Definitely just a mistake.”

“Mistake!”

“…”

But after over ten minutes, as they watched Qin Mang use up more than 100 tokens with no success, fans began to shift tone: “My idol’s perseverance is truly admirable.”

“Learn from Qin Goddess—persist, never give up, no matter how hard!”

“Go Qin Mang, you’re the best!”

“…”

Eventually, even the fans couldn’t keep it up— “Qin Mang—the most beautiful bringer of wealth to claw machines.”

“Claw machines are all about participation.”

“@QinMangWifey, please stop…”

“Bystander: You fans have it rough.”

“Lil Mang fans: bitter smile.jpg”

#QinMangTheEmotionlessClawMachine trended on the hot search list. People who didn’t know the context thought she was some kind of claw machine genius. They clicked the video— And almost died laughing. She really was a claw machine. Tried hundreds of times and didn’t get a single thing. That’s impressive in its own right.

Meng Ting was even more bitter. Not hundreds— She’d already surpassed a thousand tries. He wanted to just buy the whole machine and put it in her room, let her grab all she wanted. But Qin Mang refused.

Meanwhile, far away at a business banquet in Ling City, Secretary Cong nearly burst out laughing when he saw the hot search about Madam.

As expected— Husbands and wives complement each other.

The banquet was star-studded, hosted by the richest heir in Ling City, Rong Huaiyan. Not only was the legendary “Heavenly Deity” He Lingjiu present, but so was the man known as the “Business-world Buddha”—Xie Yanli. With his silver-blue hair, Xie stood out among the sea of conservative black-haired business moguls.

Behind a traditional screen, Rong Huaiyan, knowing their preference for quiet, had arranged a private room. The three charismatic young business elites rarely gathered together.

Rong Huaiyan brewed tea with calm elegance. Every movement was flawless to the finest detail. He Lingjiu, watching them lift their tea cups, asked, “I thought you two didn’t avoid alcohol?”

Rong Huaiyan smiled faintly.

“Strict family rules—my wife doesn’t allow it.”

Xie Yanli leisurely rolled the light green prayer beads between his pale fingers and took a sip of fragrant tea. “Mm.” He didn’t deny Rong’s words.

He Lingjiu gave them a half-smile. “Pathetic.” “You’re any better?”

Rong Huaiyan remained composed.

“Didn’t someone summon the best medical team over a minor scrape on his wife’s arm last month?”

The entire circle had heard.

He Lingjiu casually spun his wine glass and replied without guilt, “My wife is delicate.”

He didn’t think he was overreacting at all.

“Oh?”

“So the late-night detour for three hours just to see her—also because she’s delicate?”

“And not buying a new plane for almost a year—is that also because of her delicacy?”

Rong Huaiyan, refined as ever, slowly pointed out He Lingjiu’s strange behavior lately. He Lingjiu’s expression darkened subtly.

“What are you trying to say?”

Rong Huaiyan glanced at the sapphire brooch on his chest. Clearly also henpecked, yet pretending to be dominant in front of them. Then took a sip of tea, calmly adding, “There’s no shame in spoiling your wife.”

He paused, lifted his chin slightly, and said, “President Xie even dyed his hair silver-blue to please his wife and doesn’t feel ashamed.”

He Lingjiu had already noticed that eye-catching hair color earlier. He just hadn’t expected— It was to please Xie’s wife.

Xie Yanli remained composed.

“Pardon the sight—it was involuntary.”

Rong Huaiyan switched out He Lingjiu’s liquor for tea, kindly saying,

“Enough with the act. Drink tea.”

“When you’re out and about, real men don’t drink.”