<h4>Chapter 3: Will You Teach Me?</h4>


    <h4><strong>Trantor: </strong>As Studios <strong> Editor: </strong>As Studios</h4>


    Before the butler could finish, a feeble voice traveled from inside the bedroom, punctuated by a cough. “Is that you, Tang Qiu? Come in.”


    Tang Qiu arched one brow at the butler, who had no choice but to step aside and let her in.


    Jiang Shaocheng’s bedroom was sparsely furnished, a stark canvas of ck and white that was almost stifling to look upon. He was still in his wheelchair. He coughed several times before turning his gaze to Tang Qiu in an unspoken question.


    “I’ve never been anyone’s wife before,” she exined. “I thought I’d…e and ask what duties are required of me.”


    The words were poised to leave Jiang Shaocheng’s tongue, to assure her that nothing was needed of her, but then he changed his mind. “The room is a little warm. If you don’t mind… you could help me change my clothes.” He was still dressed in his formal suit from the wedding.


    Tang Qiu nodded, moving to unbutton his suit with deft fingers. As she was removing his jacket, their eyes met. She didn’t resist, allowing him to observe her. Once his jacket was off, Tang Qiu reached out to unbutton his shirt, but he stopped her, saying, “I can manage this on my own.”


    Tang Qiu didn’t argue. “Okay. You might have a harder time with your pants, though, so let me help you with them.”


    Jiang Shaocheng didn’t respond.


    Despite her initial assertiveness, Tang Qiu soon found herself struggling with the task. She had never had cause to unfasten a man’s belt before, and after several failed attempts, she was forced to ask for help. “Could you show me how to do this?”


    Wordlessly, Jiang Shaocheng took hold of her soft, small hands and guided them to the hidden buckle at the side of his belt. With a click, the belt came undone.


    “A hidden buckle,” Tang Qiu murmured, fascination ying across her face. “I see.” Briskly, without giving him a chance to refuse, she pulled down his pants.


    Jiang Shaocheng had been prepared to tell her to let the butler assist him instead. He fell silent, feeling the chilly air caress his lower body. While removing his pants, Tang Qiu could not help her skin grazing his. Her fingertips were warm and soft, brushing across his legs like the kiss of a feather. Her eyes traveled the length of his legs–slender, well-muscled, and full of strength.


    Jiang Shaocheng found himself helpless but to sit under her unconcealed scrutiny. He ced both hands on his knees in a futile attempt at modesty. “Thank you. Please ask Uncle Wang toe in.”


    <i>He doesn’t need my help anymore?</i>?Tang Qiu was about to insist that she was just as capable of assisting him, when he interjected, seemingly anticipating her response, “Forgive me. I’d like to preserve a little dignity.” His gaze dropped to his bare legs, and for the first time, beneath his gentle and cid demeanor, she glimpsed a flicker of forlornness.


    “Apologies,” she blurted out. “I didn’t think of it that way.” Helping him remove his pants was vastly different from helping him wear them; no doubt a man of Jiang Shaocheng’s status would be conscious of being reduced to such a vulnerable state in front of others.


    Uncle Wang entered. His eyes widened when he caught sight of Jiang Shaocheng’s exposed legs. “Young Master! How could that woman have been so bold? What was she thinking? Did she force you?”


    Jiang Shaocheng’s dark eyes flickered his way. He rose from the wheelchair, crossing the room in a few sure-footed strides to pull on a pair of trousers. Standing tall and upright in front of the full-length mirror, he took off his mask, and the false skin beneath it peeled away, revealing the cold, hard edges of his jawline–and a startlingly handsome face; a divine work of art, immactely sculpted.


    His gentle facade faded. When he spoke, his voice was full of coldmand. “Go find out everything you can about Tang Qiu.”


    His wife had imed she had married him of her own ord. But what secrets did she hide? What circumstances had pushed her into making that choice?


    ...


    There were plenty of servants in the mansion, enough that Tang Qiu need not lift a finger to perform any task herself if she so desired. Still, as a gesture of goodwill, she donned an apron and decided to personally make breakfast for her husband.


    After she finished preparing the meal, she was about to go upstairs to call Jiang Shaocheng for breakfast when she heard the sound of the door opening. A man in a red suit walked in.


    He caught sight of Tang Qiu, and surprise shed in his gaze. “Are you a new cook? You’re a pretty one.” He closed the distance between them, taking her chin between his fingers and leering at her.


    Tang Qiu pulled away, her expression darkening as she retreated backwards. “Who are you? Don’t touch me.”


    A smirk stretched across the man’s face. “Why, I’m the second eldest son of the Jiang family, Jiang Ming. Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize me?”


    “The second eldest son of the Jiangs,” Tang Qiu echoed with mockery, keeping her distance from him. “You think that gives you the right to paw me whenever you like? Stay away from me, or you’ll regret it.”