**Chapter 39: A Fairy’s Tears**

The indoor pool at the Lakeside Manor matched He Lingji’s taste perfectly—futuristic and sleek, with cold metallic lines that felt luxurious and high-end. Everything was fully automated, and the pool alone covered over a hundred square meters.

Under the glaring white lights, crystalline water droplets splashed onto the poolside, scattering before slowly converging again, flowing back into the blue water.

Would Qin Mang let this slide?

Of course not!

So, when He Lingji asked that question, she turned around with difficulty, her slender arms wrapping around the man’s elegant neck.

She kissed him hard.

And added, defiantly, “You try it too.”

A married couple should share both hardship and joy!

He Lingji leaned against the pool’s edge, his beautifully sculpted arms resting along the side. Droplets of water fell like rain, making soft, splattering sounds.

“Does it taste good?”

Under the bright lights, the girl’s eyes sparkled, her smile radiant and smug.

He Lingji’s lips were slightly reddened.

He pressed them together lightly, then, gripping the back of her neck, replied, “I couldn’t tell.”

“Try again.”

Qin Mang: “…”

You can *do* that?

A black knit gown and two lacy, vibrant lingerie pieces floated distantly on the water’s surface.

Qin Mang felt her body lighten. Half-opening her damp lashes, she glanced over—

Inexplicably, a memory surfaced: that night outside the charity gala.

He Lingji’s suit had floated like this too.

It had been two months since then.

But she remembered it vividly.

Qin Mang began to space out again, her eyes lingering on the mysterious black tattoo etched into his skin like a brand.

“Mrs. He, focus.”

He Lingji’s long, pale fingers threaded through hers on the poolside—possessively locking their fingers together.

No room for refusal.

No room to drift off.

Qin Mang’s voice was muffled: “What exactly are you tasting?”

After a long pause, the answer came faint and far away: “You.”

…

Inside the master bedroom.

Qin Mang, draped in a pale cyan silk robe, lounged lazily on the sofa, video chatting with Meng Ting and Fu Yuan.

Now that she was back at the Lakeside Villa, Fu Yuan—who knew some inner workings of elite families—could only warn her, “With the year-end approaching, be extra cautious. It’s peak time for media to chase big stories.”

“Every reporter’s hoping for a bombshell.”

The days around the New Year are dangerous. Celebrities, like anyone else, tend to relax during holidays—making it easier for paparazzi to strike.

Many scandals break just before or after the New Year.

Qin Mang glanced at the man walking out of the bathroom.

He wore a pale cyan robe matching hers. Coincidence? Or intentional?

She chuckled softly and looked away. “Don’t worry. I’m not going out.”

“You still need to,” Fu Yuan replied, checking the schedule. “Next week’s the premiere of *Dreams of Old Beijing*. You have to go.”

As an S+ production, the film was slated for a Spring Festival release, unafraid of competing with other blockbusters. It was determined to dominate the box office.

Director Zhou was confident in Qin Mang’s performance—he had already submitted the film to a prestigious international festival for Best Actress consideration.

Still, it was Qin Mang’s first lead role.

Now that it was about to be released, she felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

She wanted to watch it.

But didn’t dare to.

After a bit more work-related chat, Fu Yuan ended the call, reminding her again to watch out for paparazzi.

He Lingji was already getting ready for bed.

Compared to the wild, dangerous allure he exuded at the pool, the man now lounging by the headboard flipping through a hardcover book seemed refined and restrained.

He wore silver-rimmed glasses perched on his high nose bridge—elegant and composed. A small cut was still visible on his lower lip.

*Something about finance—*
Qin Mang took one glance at the book and lost interest.

Instead, she crawled over and frowned, studying the cut on his lip.

She gently touched the edge with her fingertip, worried. “Maybe don’t go to the office tomorrow.”

If the employees saw this—

*Oh god.*

She still hadn’t recovered from the last time she got socially annihilated across the internet.

Once could be written off as an accident. But repeatedly? People would assume she was some little vixen who liked to bite.

She had to maintain her image as the elegant, ladylike Mrs. He in front of the staff.

“It’s the annual party tomorrow.”

He Lingji turned a page, his tone calm and composed.

Qin Mang: “!”

“Can the president skip the annual party?”

He Lingji finally looked up at her. “What do you think?”

Qin Mang: “…”

“Do you think you can show your face looking like that?”

“Of course not, my friend!”

She answered her own question, expertly.

He Lingji took her hand, still resting against his lips, and casually suggested, “Ice for the swelling?”

Which reminded Qin Mang—

She immediately went to fetch ice, ready to apply it to his lip.

He Lingji dodged.

His long fingers brushed against her lips. “Too cold. Can you think of another method, Mrs. He?”

What method?

Qin Mang met his teasing gaze—and suddenly remembered that time when he had a fever.

She had jokingly said she’d hold the ice cube in her mouth to help “young Mr. He” reduce swelling.

Apparently, this dog hadn’t forgotten.

And now, he wanted payback.

He Lingji saw her hesitate.

He didn’t press—just laid back down, flipping through his book, unconcerned about the cut and unbothered that employees might see it tomorrow.

The next second.

He was yanked upright by his collar.

“What are you lying there for? Are you a salted fish?!”

He Lingji was caught off guard.

In one night—

He was kissed by Mrs. He twice.

This time, her kiss tasted like ice.

But beneath the chill was a molten heat.

Enough to melt the ice completely.

Blazing like wildfire.

—

The next morning, though Qin Mang had a day off and could’ve slept in for beauty rest, she forced herself awake—concerned about He Lingji’s lip injury.

She cupped his jaw and examined it closely.

Her efforts weren’t in vain. After a night of ice cubes that had numbed her entire mouth, the swelling was gone. Only a faint cut remained—barely visible unless you looked very closely.

But—

If someone *did* notice…

Qin Mang reminded him, “Just say you bit yourself while eating.”

Even when half-asleep, she still remembered to help him craft an excuse.

He Lingji, never one to suffer in silence, tucked a tie into her fingers and gave a one-word command: “Tie.”

Qin Mang drew out the word dramatically: “Tiiiiieeee\~”

Lucky for this dog—she was in a good mood today.

Otherwise, she’d have tied it around his wrist and *left him bound*.

Let him cry to the heavens with no one to save him.

—

**He Corporation Annual Gala**

Everyone noticed—He Lingji was in a good mood.

After he gave a brief speech,

Even the host picked up on it and cautiously asked, “President He, something made you happy today—care to share with us?”

He Lingji casually adjusted his tie with long fingers.

Unbothered. “Nothing really.”

“Just a personal thought.”

Then he stepped offstage, leaving the spotlight to outstanding employees.

He didn’t say more—but with so many eyes in the He Group, people quickly put the pieces together.

“President He’s tie wasn’t tied by him today.”

“He usually wears it very neatly, but this one was slightly off. Whoever tied it clearly wasn’t used to it!”

“So that means—someone else did it!”

“Damn, eagle-eyed!”

“Ohhh, I see, I see!”

“Oh my god, it must be the missus—so sweet!”

“Speaking of which, President He and his wife are so lovey-dovey, and yet someone still tried to stir things up… don’t they know their place?”

“Shhh, that someone’s a department director. She can make your life hell with a flick of her finger. Don’t say anything.”

“I’m not scared. If I were her, I’d be too embarrassed to show my face around HQ.”

“Tao-jie, you work in the President’s Office. You’ve seen the missus, right? Spill a little—what’s she like?”

Tao Qin, smiling and chatting with coworkers, paused a few seconds before replying calmly and without exaggeration:

“Beautiful, radiant, and when she appears—no one can look away.”

“She’s dazzling.”

“Wow!”

Soon, everyone’s attention shifted to the mysterious Mrs. He.

Pestering Tao Qin to tell them more.

The radiant heiress and the cold, abstinent ruler—ahhhhh!

I’m dying from shipping them!

Now *this* is what a match made in heaven looks like.

As for those stories about a sparrow turning into a phoenix?

They’re better left in novels.

In real life, I prefer power couples, equally matched in status and strength. That’s the real fairytale!

Sparrow-like supporting girls, get lost—ya ya ya ya!

—

**On the day of the premiere:**

Qin Mang, under the stylist’s arrangement, changed into a qipao she hadn’t worn in ages.

The qipao was a modest yet elegant piece embroidered with wisteria in a dark pattern. Its slit design revealed one slender, snow-white calf.

She draped a pure black, fluffy long shawl over it, nearly brushing her ankles—a stunning blend of dark elegance and irresistible allure. Her gaze shimmered with a beauty that could topple kingdoms.

No excessive jewelry.

Just a delicate, thin pair of earrings that swayed gently with every movement, making her look like she had stepped out of a painting.

It was her *first time*, after all!

Qin Mang exhaled nervously and clung to He Lingji’s suit sleeve without letting go:

“What if I look awful on camera?”

“What if my acting’s embarrassing?”

“How did I even act back then?”

He Lingji flicked one of her dangling earrings, utterly composed. “Then we’ll go home.”

“Let them perform it for you instead.”

Qin Mang still wasn’t reassured: “What if your investment flops?”

“This is the He Group’s first time investing in film, right?”

“What if the box office tanks…”

He Lingji replied nonchalantly:

“Mrs. He, this investment wasn’t even as much as you spent on your last shopping spree.”

Qin Mang choked.

She only spent *a little*…

As the investor, He Lingji had also received an invite to the premiere.

The two of them left the lakeside estate in separate cars.

He Lingji arrived low-key and sat in the VIP front row—the best seat in the house.

Qin Mang was seated in a different section.

Though she had been a bundle of nerves, when Qin Mang entered and passed by He Lingji’s seat, she bent to adjust her dress and sneakily patted the back of his hand resting on his knee.

The tail of her black furry shawl covered the motion.

She meant to tease him to ease her nerves.

But he caught her fingers instead.

Qin Mang didn’t pull away.

She hadn’t managed to scare him—instead, *her* little heart almost skipped a beat.

He Lingji’s thin lips curled in a faint smile.

He slowly released her hand.

“Miss Qin, be careful.”

Qin Mang clutched her chest and met his gaze, giving a slight smile: “Thank you, President He.”

Each word sounded like she was grinding her teeth.

Director Zhou, the only one nearby who knew their relationship, offered, “Want to switch seats with me?”

Qin Mang replied coolly, “No need.”

“Wouldn’t want this delicate flower to sully the pristine glacier.”

Director Zhou: “…”

Hard to tell if she was praising herself or mocking President He.

Definitely not praising him.

After that, Qin Mang elegantly made her way to the seat labeled with her name.

Director Zhou looked at Qin Mang, then at He Lingji.

He thought this rich investor really lacked dignity.

He gave some advice: “You shouldn’t spoil women too much, or they’ll become overconfident.”

He Lingji absentmindedly rubbed the wedding ring on his ring finger. In the dim lighting, his eyes were distant. Only when they brushed over Qin Mang did a hint of warmth appear.

After a moment, he said calmly, “So what?”

“She’s my wife.”

“She *should* be spoiled.”

—

As the movie started, Qin Mang gradually calmed down.

Now was the moment of truth.

It wasn’t her first time seeing herself on the big screen.

Nor her first time knowing this story.

But still—

She couldn’t help but empathize with the characters, slipping back into the emotional state she had when playing Yun Qin.

Qin Mang had always cared about appearances. Instinctively, she pressed her lips together and tilted her head slightly to keep the tears from falling.

When the camera swept over her—

Her black and white eyes were slightly red at the rims, filled with shimmering tears that looked ready to spill. Her gaze was radiant, like rippling spring water.

This shot was made into a GIF and posted on the film’s official account.

Before the premiere even ended, it had already been reposted over a hundred thousand times.

Thanks to that GIF, Qin Mang went viral again.

Praised as “a fairy shedding tears.”

She trended to second place on the hot search list.

Number one?

**#QinMang’sActingInDreamsOfBeijing**

A famous critic wrote: “Qin Mang’s beauty is undeniable. But on the big screen, looks are secondary. What matters is bone structure and emotional impact. Qin Mang shows us a promising future for domestic cinema.”

This critic was notoriously harsh, rarely offering praise. The fact that he openly complimented Qin Mang made netizens suspect he was bribed.

He swore: “Just watch it when it’s released! I never take dirty money!”

Netizens were thrilled: “Now that’s the brutally honest critic we know and love!”

The critic: “…” For the first time, he was left speechless.

—

After the screening, interviews followed, but Qin Mang went backstage to fix her makeup and collect herself.

Unexpectedly—

Just as she entered the hallway, a slender hand grabbed her wrist.

She fell straight into someone’s chest.

Startled, she gasped, but the familiar cool scent stopped her short.

“You scared me!”

She almost thought it was a crazed fan!

But He Lingji didn’t answer. He lowered his gaze to her still-reddened eyes, voice low and deep:

“Fairy shedding tears?”

“Cry for me again. Let me see.”

“He Lingji.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re a pervert.”

“Mm.”

Qin Mang didn’t know how to deal with this shameless man. She had long realized he had a twisted kink—he *loved* watching her cry.

Yeah—

Just like she loved watching his hips move.

Fine, fine. They were even.

Qin Mang generously forgave him, “I need to go on stage later. Let me go.”

She still had to fix her makeup.

She hadn’t cried, but the corners of her eyes were a little smudged.

“There are people coming and going here. Someone might—”

Before she could finish—

“It’s Qin Mang! She’s over here!”

Qin Mang’s ears were sharp, especially to the sound of camera shutters. She reflexively reached out to block He Lingji’s face and quickly pulled him into the makeup room.

No time to explain. She commanded: “Don’t come out!”

“If you dare, I’ll *never* cry for you again!”

That threat—

Made the usually cold-faced President He suddenly smile.

Facing her fierce glare, she looked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

As if if he didn’t agree, she’d pounce and bite.

“Okay.”

Only after getting his agreement did Qin Mang slam the door shut.

She turned to face the chasing reporters.

They’d followed her so persistently, even sneaking backstage just to get a shot.

Qin Mang approached them step by step, her expression cold. Her red lips spat two simple words: “Delete it.”

The paparazzi gulped and showed her their screen: “We… we were live streaming.”

Qin Mang: “!”