**Chapter 65: Sweet Trap**

The partnership agreement was signed to the satisfaction of both parties.

However, the recent rumors of He Lingji’s fondness for “bragging about his wife” also began spreading.

And the compliments had to be different every time.

Teams negotiating with He Group used to bring their sharpest professionals. But after hearing the rumors, they began prioritizing employees with the strongest literary backgrounds. One company started it, and the rest followed. Eventually, even the financial prodigies began enriching their literary skills. Some could even compose impromptu poems.

All to ensure nothing repeated.

The entire business world reached an unexpected consensus on improving literary cultivation.

At the same time, a rare 99+ message explosion happened in He Lingji’s private WeChat group.

Everyone in the group was a close childhood friend. Besides Rong Huaiyan and Ruan Qizhuo, there were two others. One was the famed academic Professor Jiang Lingci. The producer Jiang Yulin—whose project *Dreams of Jinghua* was once canceled—was his cousin. Though not in the group, he sometimes joined their gatherings. So when he asked to borrow a yacht for a party, He Lingji lent it for Lingci’s sake. The last member was top-tier lawyer Nan Yun, known for rarely losing a case.

Since they were all busy elites, the group usually remained quiet.

But lately, due to He Lingji’s “developments,” the group had become lively.

**[Dating Progress 4/5]**

Only Ruan Qizhuo was still single, so he had the most free time and kept up with all the gossip.

**Innocent Sprout of the Group:**
*My dad hired a Chinese literature tutor for me. Going home feels like visiting a grave. It’s hell…*
*@He Lingji please, I’m begging you! Stop causing ripples!*

He had no idea that even the slightest action from him could cause a shockwave in the business world.

**@He Lingji Hey! Stop hiding at home! Come out and face us! You only burned your leg, right? So why does it seem like your brain got fried instead?**

Rong Huaiyan, ever direct despite his packed schedule, cut in:
**[Maybe it fried into a love-struck brain.]**

**Ruan Qizhuo:** *You’re the best, Brother Rong. All that reading pays off.*

**Rhy:** *@He Lingji Have you come to your senses? The deepest corner of the Rong family’s century-old library has a room full of books about married life. Just what you need.*

This time, he meant it seriously.

Not bedroom tricks.

At that moment, He “Love-Struck Brain” Lingji was in his study, being watched by his wife while working, when he saw Rong Huaiyan’s message.

**He Lingji:**
*@Rhy Send someone over. Also, take away those two hundred-year-old crabapple trees in my garden while you’re at it.*

Madam Rong loved crabapple trees, especially old ones, which were rare. Coincidentally, He’s lakeside estate had two.

The gossip-loving group spectators were amazed.

As a lawyer, Nan Yun felt it was his duty to warn his love-struck friend:

**Nan Yun:**
*‘Legal consequences of being a love-struck fool’ – [link]*
*‘Avoiding emotional and financial ruin from romance’ – [link]*
*‘Beware of sweet traps’ – [link]*

He Lingji wordlessly muted the group chat.

Him? Love-struck?

A mocking smile played on his lips.

He put down his phone and rose to pour himself some water.

But Madam He, lounging on the nearby chaise with her script, suddenly leapt up:

“Sit down, don’t move! I’ll do it!”

His gaze followed her slim figure as she dashed out.

Ever since the fire incident, Qin Mang had clung to him more than ever.

Being watched 24/7 by a beauty could sometimes feel romantic, but—

His gray-blue eyes narrowed slightly.

So this was the “sweet trap”?

Just then, Qin Mang returned carrying several glasses of crystal-clear water and smiled gently:
“Mr. He, would you like coffee, tea, or today’s freshly squeezed… plain water?”

Qin “Air Hostess Beauty” Mang lined up three glasses of identical “freshly squeezed” water on the table.

She even bowed slightly, “Understood, this is your fresh water. Please enjoy.”

He Lingji didn’t say a word.

Qin Mang had acted out the entire scene by herself.

No co-star needed.

His eyes swept over the identical glasses.

Nan Yun had really overestimated her.

This wasn’t a sweet trap.

He was clearly just her prop for acting practice.

He rubbed his temples.

“Qin Mang.”

“Yes, sir? Any additional service?”

“We don’t provide *special* services here.”

He Lingji paused for a few seconds and asked, “Shouldn’t you be heading to the film set?”

Drama queens belonged in production sets, not at home.

Qin Mang shook her head delicately, “We’re on break.”

The whole production team had been spooked by the incident, and the director gave them two weeks off.

Still a few days left.

She had plenty of free time.

He Lingji mulled it over. “There’s a major antique auction in Ling City. Want to go for a couple of days?”

Qin Mang instantly understood—he wanted her out of the house!

And he said he wanted to “support” her!

Men’s words were always lies!

Fuming, she slapped the table.

Ow. That *hurt*—

She bit her lip and glared at him, “He Lingji!”

Without hesitation, he walked over and picked her up from across the table.

Smooth, practiced movements.

In a blink, she was sitting on his strong lap.

He took her soft, delicate wrist. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

Under the warm study light.

Her palm was red.

She had fair, sensitive skin. Given how hard she’d slapped the table in anger—it had to hurt.

Qin Mang stopped pretending.

Her eyes brimmed with tears as she pouted, blowing on her sore hand, “It hurts.”

He Lingji muttered, “If it hurts, why slap the table? What if it swells into a pig trotter—”

He caught himself, and corrected quickly, “—A pig-trotter fairy.”

Pig-trotter fairy, seriously?

Qin Mang glanced at her red little paw, then at He Lingji’s calm, handsome face. She said coldly, “Let go.”

He released her promptly, “Hm?”

Qin Mang: “If you don’t, I’ll turn *you* into a pig head.”

She huffed, finished off the remaining water, then stormed off with her script without looking back.

Caring for this man would give anyone heart problems.

During the fire, everyone assumed Qin Mang had no lingering trauma.

Even her brother Qin Yan had been fooled.

Only He Lingji wasn’t.

The next morning.

He Lingji’s cool eyes watched as Qin Mang quietly pulled a layer of gauzy curtains over the window.

Blocking the dazzling sunlight.

After a few days of observation.

He Lingji was certain.

She was—light-sensitive.

But how could a “sun” be afraid of the sun?

Qin Mang turned around and met his gaze. She wrinkled her nose and snorted, the little red mole on her pale cheek shifting as she moved.

Still holding a grudge over the “pig-trotter fairy” comment.

He Lingji leaned forward and gently took her now-healed hand. “Still mad?”

After last night’s emergency study session—thanks to books Rong Huaiyan sent—He Lingji learned that you don’t compare fairies to pig trotters.

It should be “slender jade fingers.”

Qin Mang pouted, “Yes!”

She never hid her feelings. If she said she was mad, then she was.

No stammering.

He Lingji glanced from her puffed-up cheeks to the blazing sun behind her, now muted by sheer curtains.

“You want to ride in the helicopter?”

Qin Mang’s eyes lit up, then dimmed again.

She shook her head daintily, “Too hot.”

“No way.”

He lowered his eyes, watching her blinking lashes and her sideward glance.

Written all over her face—guilt.

“Afraid of sunlight?”

“Afraid of fire?”

His hand trailed up from her fingertips, past the silk sleeve of her robe, until it rested on her shoulder—gently forcing her to meet his gaze.

His eyes, clear and penetrating.

Qin Mang flared up, “I wasn’t bitten by a rabid dog—why would I be scared of that?”

“I’m going to eat!”

Then turned to flee again.

The next moment, Qin Mang was scooped up by He Lingji, his arm wrapped around her slim waist like he was holding a baby, carrying her toward the bathroom.

As Qin Mang struggled,
he drawled, “Move again and my wound will split open.”
Qin Mang froze: “!”

He knew full well he was injured and still carried her?!
Since he was wounded and she couldn’t hit him, she could only protest with words: “Let me go! I’m not going!”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“It’s just piloting a helicopter.”
“It’s not like I’m asking you to fly up and pluck the sun!”

Seeing brute force wasn’t working, Qin Mang wrapped her slender arms around his neck, leaned on his shoulder, and started to whimper, “I have trauma, I’m scared.”
“Hubby, no…”

What started as fake crying turned into real tears.
The best way to deal with trauma is to face it—and conquer it.
Not run away.
Especially in Qin Mang’s case, with her fear of light and fire.
What, was she never going to go outside again?
Could she really accept that?

Since Qin Mang couldn’t take that step, He Lingji took it for her—holding her, guiding her all the way until they stepped outside.

Qin Mang wore a one-piece work-style romper with bold design. Her small face sulked, looking just like a rebellious teenage girl.
He Lingji held a large black umbrella over her, lowering it to block the sun. “The human body ignites at over 600°C. It’s 40°C right now. Don’t be scared?”
Qin Mang shot him a glare.

Sunlight poured onto her like falling rose sparks from that day.
She stiffly said, “I’m not scared.”
Since she’d already been exposed—

Qin Mang blatantly snuggled into He Lingji’s arms, her warm palms pressed against his slightly cool arm, finally finding a bit of safety.

Then she noticed workers coming in and out with tools.
Curious, she asked, “What are they doing?”
The lakeside estate had rare trees and flowers everywhere, with each flowerbed managed by specialists. Everything was always well-organized. So why were so many people suddenly flooding in?

It was the first time she’d seen this.

When she realized they were moving the ancient crabapple trees, Qin Mang reacted, “Aren’t those trees beautiful? Why move them?”
He Lingji replied casually, “Item for item.”
Qin Mang: “What for?”
He Lingji: “Books. Knowledge.”

Qin Mang had nothing to say.
Knowledge was priceless.
Move the trees then. It’s not like the estate lacked greenery.

“What are you planting in the empty space?”
Qin Mang’s thoughts jumped quickly. She got excited. “How about lychee trees?”

The nearby butler hesitated.
The estate’s landscape was redesigned by a renowned Feng Shui master. Even the trees weren’t randomly planted.
Any new transplant had to be approved by the master.
The butler thought Mr. He would stop her.

But to his surprise—
He Lingji casually said, “Sure.”
“It’s your place. Plant whatever you want.”

“I’m going right now!” Qin Mang made a beeline for the empty area where the crabapple trees had been.

Knowing her little scheme,
He Lingji calmly held her fingertip and pulled her back into his arms. “Lychee trees need to be transplanted.”

Escape: failed.
Qin Mang had no choice but to sulkily go pilot the helicopter.

She really thought He Lingji was about to take her to “pluck the sun.”
But—

When they climbed the artificial mountain,
the large helicopter hovered at low altitude.
Tall, sleek, and cool.

If it had been before, Qin Mang would’ve rushed up to play with it.
Now she just stood there stiffly.

He Lingji closed the umbrella.
His cool fingers gently gripped the sweaty back of her neck—soothing and soft. “It’s not taking off.”

Then, He Lingji took the professional photography equipment the butler brought over, moving with unhurried elegance. “Just taking some helicopter glam shots of my fair-skinned, gorgeous, soft-bodied actress wife.”

When Qin Mang saw him raise the camera, her instincts kicked in. She instantly adjusted her expression and struck her most flattering pose: “…”

One thought filled her mind:
**As a stunning actress in this age of beauty, I must never allow an ugly photo, no matter the time or place!**

He Lingji looked at the naturally radiant girl in his lens, smiled faintly, and pressed the shutter.

Then it hit Qin Mang:
**Awoooo! This shameless dog broke the rules!**