Chapter 13: For the Rest of My Life, I Entrust Myself to You

Morning.

Qiao Xi opened her eyes groggily.

She instinctively shifted, wanting to change positions, but immediately realized a strong arm was wrapped tightly around her waist.

Qiao Xi froze.

She jerked her head up, only to be greeted by the breathtakingly handsome profile of Fu Yancheng, mere inches from her own.

And she was being held firmly in his arms.

A flush exploded across Qiao Xi’s cheeks, her heart racing wildly.

She dared not move, her body stiff as a board.

Oh my god!

Why... why was he sleeping here?!

And holding her like this!

Just then, Fu Yancheng’s eyes fluttered open.

His gaze, still heavy with sleep, lingered lazily on Qiao Xi’s burning cheeks and her panicked, evasive eyes.

A teasing curve appeared at the corner of his lips.

He dipped his head, his warm breath skimming across her ear, his voice husky, lazy, and irresistibly alluring:

“Good morning, Xi Xi.”

He paused, his eyes lingering on her flushed earlobes. “Did you sleep well last night?”

Qiao Xi wished she could disappear into a crack in the ground.

She ducked her head abruptly, burying her burning face in the pillow, her voice mortified and flustered:

“President Fu, you… you…”

Fu Yancheng let out a low, unrestrained laugh, unmistakably pleased.

At last, he slowly loosened his arm from around her waist, but remained lying on his side, propping his head up with one hand, leisurely watching her.

He teased, “So… you’re planning to stay in bed? Do you want to keep sleeping with me?”

Qiao Xi shot upright, her gaze darting everywhere but at him. She scrambled to throw off the covers and get out of bed. “I’ll get up right now!”

But the moment she moved, he pulled her right back.

She tumbled into his embrace.

“President Fu…” Qiao Xi was both mortified and anxious, struggling to push him away. “I need to get up!”

Fu Yancheng’s grip on her waist was unyielding, refusing to let her go.

He bent his head, his deep eyes locking onto her panicked, embarrassed gaze. The earlier hint of mischief vanished, replaced by earnestness.

“Still calling me President Fu?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he said, “Last night at the hospital, I asked you a question. Now, answer me again.”

He paused, his gaze unwavering. “Xi Xi.”

“Marry me. Be my wife, will you?”

Qiao Xi’s heart slammed violently in her chest.

She remembered last night—Fu Yancheng shielding her with his own body, his bleeding wound, the warmth of his embrace, and his words: “Let me protect you…”

She opened her mouth, but her throat felt blocked; no sound emerged.

Fu Yancheng pressed on, “Qiao Xi, answer me. Will you?”

She stared into the depths of his eyes, overflowing with a love so intense it threatened to swallow her whole.

She could no longer deny her heart.

She nodded vigorously, tears streaming down her face. “I… I will!”

Those three words were like heavenly music to Fu Yancheng.

An astonishing light burst in his eyes.

A wide, genuine smile broke across his face, brilliant and heartfelt.

“Xi Xi!”

He cried out, his voice thick with joy and excitement, crushing her fiercely into his arms.

He lowered his head and pressed a deep, fervent kiss to her tear-stained lips.

He kissed her with a passion and devotion as though pouring all his love and promises into that single touch.

Qiao Xi reached up, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, responding clumsily but ardently.

—

After breakfast, Qiao Xi assumed Fu Yancheng would drive her back to the office.

Instead, the car rolled to a smooth stop in front of the Civil Affairs Bureau.

She turned abruptly, staring in shock at the composed man beside her.

A smile tugged at Fu Yancheng’s lips. “Let’s get out.”

Qiao Xi was dazed, barely able to believe it. “President Fu?!”

“To get our marriage certificate.”

He was succinct, his gaze resolute.

Fu Yancheng was out first, circling to her side and grasping her hand, their fingers interlaced, leading her in great strides to the entrance.

Pulled along by him, Qiao Xi’s mind was a complete blank—she could only follow passively.

The paperwork went astonishingly smoothly. Zhou Ze had prepared everything in advance—personal reception, VIP access, the whole process lightning-fast.

Throughout it all, Qiao Xi felt as if she were walking on clouds, dazed and lightheaded.

It wasn’t until the staff handed them two red marriage certificates that the reality began to settle in.

The two walked out of the building, red booklets in hand.

With a bang, two rows of black-suited bodyguards set off confetti cannons, streams of colored ribbons filling the air, grand and spectacular.

Qiao Xi nearly jumped in alarm.

Zhou Ze approached at just the right moment, presenting a deep blue velvet box with both hands.

Fu Yancheng took it, opening the lid.

“I told you I’d protect you. The best way is to give you a rightful status.”

He took out a large diamond ring and, in front of everyone, dropped to one knee and solemnly slipped it onto Qiao Xi’s left ring finger.

The fit was perfect.

“From now on, you are rightfully my wife, Mrs. Fu Yancheng.”

“No one will ever dare lay a finger on you again.”

He rose, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand, his eyes locked tenderly on hers. “Mrs. Fu, I entrust you with my life.”

Qiao Xi’s cheeks burned, her heart pounding like a drum.

Next, Fu Yancheng led her to the car.

He drove himself, taking no one else along.

Qiao Xi leaned back in her seat, gazing down at the dazzling ring on her finger, still feeling as though she were in a dream.

She hesitated, then whispered, “About our relationship…”

Her cheeks tinged with pink as she bit her lip. “Could we keep it a secret for now? I mean…at the company…”

Fu Yancheng glanced at her, indulgence softening his gaze.

“Whatever Mrs. Fu says, I’ll agree to.”

He had barely finished speaking when the car pulled over to a quiet, tree-lined lane.

Qiao Xi blinked in surprise.

Fu Yancheng unclipped his seatbelt, then turned toward her without a word, his eyes fixed intently on her—a clear, unmistakable demand, a silent request for his reward.

His gaze fell to her rosy lips, his throat working.

Qiao Xi instantly understood, her heart thundering.

She looked at his handsome face, so close, warmth and bashfulness flooding her heart.

Taking a deep breath, she summoned her courage and leaned in.

Her cheeks flamed even brighter as, under his gaze, she pressed a quick, butterfly-light kiss to his lips.

“Thank you…”

Her voice was barely a whisper, and she tried to pull away.

“Not enough.”

Fu Yancheng abruptly cupped the back of her head, pulled her in and kissed her hard.

It was no longer a fleeting brush, but a deep, commanding kiss, hungry and unrestrained.

“Mmm…”

Qiao Xi’s startled cry was swallowed up.

The crisp scent of cedar enveloped her completely.

He kissed her deeply and urgently, as if he wanted to devour her whole.

Qiao Xi went weak all over, able only to cling unconsciously to the front of his shirt.

It was a long while before Fu Yancheng finally released her, voice hoarse and raw: “Now that’s a proper thank you.”

A low, satisfied laugh escaped him, full of contentment.

Just then, his phone vibrated—the screen displayed: “Grandfather.”

So, the old man had already gotten wind of it?