Chapter 7: The Success of Manipulation

When Mo Ran returned to Su Qingcheng’s villa, it was already seven in the evening. His finger hadn’t yet touched the fingerprint sensor on the door handle when the door swung open, and a crowd of people rushed out, led by Su Dashan and the rest of the Su family.

“What’s going on here…” Mo Ran awkwardly withdrew his half-extended hand, scratching his head in confusion as he looked at Su Dashan.

“Did you go to Secretary Xiao’s house?” Su Dashan didn’t answer his question but instead inquired about the Xiao family.

“Yes, Grandfather. Secretary Xiao’s family invited me to dinner.” Since Su Dashan had already brought it up, Mo Ran admitted it straightforwardly. After all, when the car drove up, the living room curtains were open, and they surely saw the license plate—001.

At his words, the faces of those behind Su Dashan changed noticeably. Especially Second Uncle Su Lin and Third Uncle Su Mu, who looked on with envy. Why did good fortune always favor the eldest branch? First, the CEO position and 10% personal shares, now the eldest branch’s son-in-law had made connections with Secretary Xiao, the most powerful figure. Would the second and third branches ever have a say again? Yet no one noticed Su Qingcheng standing aside; she frowned slightly upon hearing the word “grandfather.”

“Why did Secretary Xiao’s wife and daughter specifically come to find you today?” This question had lingered in Su Dashan’s mind most of the day; now he seized the chance to ask.

“A few days ago, near Qingxue school, Secretary Xiao’s daughter’s electric scooter lost control, crashed, and caught fire. I saved her. So today, Secretary Xiao’s family invited me to dinner as a token of thanks.”

With Mo Ran’s explanation, everyone suddenly understood, and their attitudes shifted. After all, connecting with the city’s top leader was like stumbling into immense fortune.

“You truly are my good son-in-law.” Su Sen, in particular, beamed with joy, coming forward to wrap an arm around Mo Ran’s shoulder, glancing smugly at his two younger brothers, who were visibly irritated.

“Mo Ran, you’ve worked hard today. Rest well tonight, and tomorrow come to the company in new clothes. Grandfather has a project and wants you to help out.” Su Dashan smiled kindly, caring for his junior, then gave Su Qingcheng a meaningful look. True to his merchant’s nature, Su Dashan’s first thought was to leverage the connection for the benefit of himself and the Su Group.

Later that evening, after an onslaught of flattery, Mo Ran finally enjoyed some peace. He was exhausted after a busy day. As he gathered his clean clothes, intending to wash up with cold water in the backyard, he opened the door and unexpectedly found Su Qingcheng standing there, a rare occurrence.

“Is something the matter, President Su?” Mo Ran addressed his “wife” politely.

“It’s too cold outside. Go wash in the room. I’ve made your bed,” Su Qingcheng replied, her expression odd, struggling to get the words out.

“You made my bed? Did my three years of effort finally move you? Is this a reward—sharing the same room?” Mo Ran’s lips curled into a playful smile, teasing as he carefully broached the subject.

“Mo Ran, that’s enough. Don’t push your luck; you’re nowhere near that step yet.” Su Qingcheng’s face showed contempt, scoffing at him.

“Haha, people with issues in their minds see issues everywhere.” Mo Ran chuckled, continuing under Su Qingcheng’s furious gaze, “Which step? I meant sharing the same room to communicate and adapt. Who knows what step you were thinking of, President Su.”

“Hmph, come or don’t, up to you.” Unable to retort, Su Qingcheng snorted coldly and left in a huff.

Watching her retreat, Mo Ran shrugged indifferently. Once, he had desperately longed for both her body and heart, willing to pay any price. But after all he’d endured these three years, his passionate heart had cooled. He hadn’t thought about divorce—nor was he qualified to—but the seed of disappointment had been planted, and who knew how far it would grow? He’d just let it drag on.

Returning to the master bedroom on the third floor, Su Qingcheng threw her phone hard onto the soft bed. Her perfectly proportioned chest heaved, clearly furious. Had Mo Ran taken leave of his senses, daring to speak to her like that?

She waited and waited, but Mo Ran never came. Staring at the bedding by the window, she kicked off her slippers in frustration, the dull thud echoing in the room.

Meanwhile, Mo Ran, having finished his chores, lay on his small bed, holding an old, faded phone, chatting idly with Xiao Xiao. He had already added her on WeChat.

——

Xiao Xiao, feeling their familiarity had grown, finally couldn’t help but ask, “Mo Ran, as a man, why did you agree to become the Su family’s son-in-law? As my father said, these three years haven’t been easy for you.”

“Because of a feng shui master’s words: ‘A good son-in-law can bring prosperity to the Su family for three generations.’ And Su Dashan promised that if I agreed, he’d donate one million to repair the old orphanage. You know, I grew up in the orphanage—that’s my home. I couldn’t refuse,” Mo Ran replied with frankness.

“Oh? I thought you…” Xiao Xiao felt ashamed for her earlier assumptions.

“You thought I was motivated by lust? I won’t deny it; at first, it was seventy percent for the orphanage, thirty percent for desire,” Mo Ran admitted candidly. He had no ambitions regarding these elite heirs, so he didn’t bother to pretend.

“And Su Qingcheng agreed?” Xiao Xiao was even more puzzled, not believing Su Qingcheng would be willing.

“Ten percent of Su Group shares and the CEO position—do you think she’d agree?” Mo Ran replied.

“She’s truly shameless. The marriage is clearly for profit; why does she look down on you, acting so superior? It’s too much,” Xiao Xiao remarked, clearly a spirited soul.

“Perhaps it’s the innate arrogance of a privileged heiress.” Mo Ran replied. After three years of striving, he had long since seen through it.

As their conversation deepened and sleepiness crept in, just as they were about to sleep, a knock sounded at the door.

“President Su, why aren’t you asleep yet?” Mo Ran opened the door to see Su Qingcheng in pajamas, a delicate collarbone revealed, and he asked in confusion.

“Come sleep in the room; I have a few words to say.” Su Qingcheng’s expression flickered, and she spoke.

“Can’t we talk here?” Mo Ran smiled.

“It’s not the same. Are you coming or not?” Su Qingcheng was annoyed at being refused yet again, but for the sake of the project, she had to suppress her anger.

“Fine, fine, I’ll come.” Realizing he’d only get scolded if he refused, Mo Ran nodded, grabbed his phone, and followed Su Qingcheng to the third-floor master bedroom.

Under the warm white light, the familiar yet foreign setting stirred Mo Ran’s emotions. When they first married, he’d slept on the floor here for half a year, only to be driven to the basement because Su Qingcheng looked down on him.

“Here, your bedding is by the window.” Su Qingcheng pointed indifferently.

Same location, same bedding. Mo Ran’s eyes flashed with emotion, but he didn’t show it, simply standing still, waiting for her to speak.

As expected, Su Qingcheng’s sudden kindness had a purpose.

Seeing Mo Ran unmoved, Su Qingcheng looked at him with a half-smile, then handed him the tablet resting by the bed.

“This is the Deepwater Port and surrounding road infrastructure project for Shanghai City. Take a look,” she said, explaining.

“What does this have to do with me?” Mo Ran was puzzled as he accepted the tablet.

“This is a key government project this year. The Su Group has teamed up with several construction firms to bid, but we’re facing strong competition,” Su Qingcheng explained.

“I don’t understand any of this. Why are you showing it to me?” Mo Ran asked, still bemused.

“It’s this year’s priority project, led by Secretary Xiao.” Su Qingcheng silently complained about Mo Ran’s cluelessness but continued to explain.

“Secretary Xiao is an important figure. Do you and Grandfather hope that because I rescued Xiao Xiao, Secretary Xiao might grant us a favor?” Mo Ran said, somewhat exasperated.

“If you don’t try, how would you know?” Su Qingcheng replied.

“That’s impossible.” Mo Ran, remembering the dinner at Villa One, refused outright. Such high-ranking officials would never let personal gratitude interfere with public affairs, especially for a multi-billion-dollar project. He wasn’t naive enough to think otherwise.

“Mo Ran, we’ve been married for three years. Don’t you want to share a room with me? Don’t you want to see me pregnant with your child?” Su Qingcheng, though inwardly grumbling at his refusal, put on a pained expression, playing the emotional card.

“What do you mean?” Her words were like a stone cast into calm waters, stirring up waves in Mo Ran’s heart.

“Can’t you tell? You know the situation in the Su Group. Second and third uncles, and the aunts, are all watching for a chance. With things as they are, do you think I can set aside the fight for power and just be a dutiful wife? The moment I step down as CEO, our branch will be beset by them,” Su Qingcheng spoke in a low voice, watching Mo Ran’s reaction.

Seeing his flickering gaze and furrowed brow, Su Qingcheng inwardly sneered—lust clouding judgment, the lure of a child and fatherhood. He was taking the bait. So she decided to press further.

“Don’t be fooled by my three years as CEO, making waves and gaining prestige. In the Su Group, Grandfather’s authority outweighs mine. If we compare it to ancient dynasties, Grandfather is the founding emperor, I’m barely half the successor. Though I’ve promoted my people in key departments, Grandfather could erase my influence with a word. But…”

Noting Mo Ran’s increasingly serious expression, Su Qingcheng quietly laughed and then took a deep breath. “If we win this project and break ground, both you and I will reach peak influence within the Su Group. Grandfather won’t dare interfere. Then, with the world settled, I can retire, and after sharing a room, you can leave me a child…”

At the end, Su Qingcheng feigned shyness, lowering her head and avoiding Mo Ran’s gaze. The room fell silent, broken only by Mo Ran’s heavy breathing. Clearly, Su Qingcheng’s psychological tactics had worked. She’d used the promise of a child, so unlikely yet so tempting, to paint Mo Ran a dream.

“Alright,” Mo Ran finally raised his head after an uncertain interval, looking at Su Qingcheng’s “bashful” demeanor, and agreed.

Unexpectedly, before his words faded, Su Qingcheng leaned in and kissed his forehead gently. “This is my sincerity. I truly want to live with you.” She stood up, blushing, and hurried to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

Mo Ran felt a fragrant breeze and a lingering warmth on his forehead as Su Qingcheng disappeared into the bathroom. Savoring the moment, he happily lay down on his bedding, dreaming of a gentle wife in his arms.

Little did he know, out of sight in the bathroom, Su Qingcheng was covering her mouth, retching. The ceiling fan was on full blast, desperate to keep Mo Ran from hearing.

“If it weren’t for the money, would I ever sacrifice myself for this pig?” Su Qingcheng glared at her red-faced reflection in the mirror, forcing herself to endure the nausea, gritting her teeth.

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