Rose Manor: Tycoon's Relentless Chase-Chapter 308 - 289: Overbearing Proposal

Fu Jichen followed Shen Jianian’s fingertip to look at his own abdomen, and it was only then he realized that his shirt was lifted, not knowing when it had happened, probably when he had lifted the quilt just now.

There was a very small scar there.

More than three years had passed, and he seemed to have long forgotten the wound there.

Shen Jianian saw his eyes lowered, the shadow cast by his eyelashes concealing the emotions in his eyes. She couldn’t tell if he was happy, angry, or feeling something else.

"If it’s inconvenient to talk about, then never mind." She maintained her attitude of not forcing others, respecting their privacy.

Fu Jichen raised his eyes and smiled slightly at her, his smile very faint: "A woman stabbed me with a knife."

Shen Jianian paused, blinked her eyes, and took a breath through her slightly open mouth. She was sure she didn’t make any sound while inhaling, so her expression shouldn’t look too shocked, but inwardly, great waves had already surged.

A woman? Stabbed with a knife?

She didn’t know whether to be shocked by the former or the latter. Together, they were enough to allow her to imagine countless stories, but she had no idea which one was the correct answer.

"Why did that person... stab you?" Shen Jianian heard herself ask him.

"She is my mother in name."

Shen Jianian hadn’t looked in a mirror, but she felt her expression compared to just now was probably very unsettled, no longer describable merely as shock.

Fu Jichen’s mother in name—she didn’t quite understand those words. Wasn’t his mother Wei Ronghua? How could she be in name only?

Shen Jianian knew she shouldn’t ask further, as it might touch on some high-society secrets. She held back her curiosity, swallowed, and picked up the towel on his leg: "The towel is no longer hot, I’ll go soak it in hot water again."

"Don’t you want to know?" Fu Jichen saw through her tactic of using distraction to suppress her curiosity.

Shen Jianian: "Can I know?"

Fu Jichen patted the spot beside him, signaling her to come onto the bed: "If you want to know, I’ll tell you."

In the end, Shen Jianian was defeated by curiosity: "I’ll heat up the towel first and then come back to listen."

She ran to the bathroom and came out shortly after, the cool towel was now scorching hot after being soaked in hot water. She slapped it onto Fu Jichen’s calf with a "smack," making him hiss, and the sweat on his forehead nearly burst out.

"Sorry..." Shen Jianian stuck out her tongue.

Fu Jichen glanced at her with his head tilted, he was truly vulnerable now, the pain had worn away nearly all of his resolve.

Shen Jianian kicked off her slippers, preparing to climb onto the bed. Her knees touched the sheets, and she suddenly froze: "I haven’t showered."

Fu Jichen didn’t mind, he wrapped her waist with his arm and dragged her to the inside of the bed. Then, he lay down as well, with the wet towel on his leg, covering himself with the blanket due to inconvenience, and gave her the quilt.

Shen Jianian, wearing a sweater and with her hair a bit tousled, lay on her side, looking at Fu Jichen’s face close at hand. She could see even the roots of his eyelashes clearly, only then realizing how intimate their position was.

Anyway, they had already shared a bed last night. She convinced herself.

Fu Jichen didn’t know where to start, these things had been buried in his heart for a long time. Closing his eyes and remaining silent for a while, he spoke. The first sentence still shocked Shen Jianian: "Wei Ronghua is not my mother."

Then, he told Shen Jianian a very long story, a story about the previous generation.

As Shen Jianian listened, her mind became increasingly clear. Until he said that Wei Ronghua couldn’t handle the truth, went crazy at home, and stabbed him, her breath suddenly hitched, and her hand gripped the quilt.

The story ended, and Fu Jichen looked at the woman lying beside him. He didn’t know if she was scared or what, but her eyes were wide open.

Shen Jianian was still trying to digest this story.

That is to say, Fu Jichen’s nominal mother, Wei Ronghua, killed his biological mother, Xiao Heting.

"You..." Shen Jianian’s voice was a bit hoarse, "When did you find out?"

It is often said that the grace of raising someone is greater than the grace of giving birth. Wei Ronghua raised him and gave him all her love, but she was the murderer of his mother. How contradictory, agonizing, and painful it must have been for him to know that.

"At ten years old," Fu Jichen said, "On my tenth birthday, my father got drunk and stayed alone in the room. I quietly followed him and saw him holding a photo of a woman and weeping. It was the first time I saw him cry, and I was curious. He said many things to the photo; I was more mature than most children and understood everything then. Later, one day, I dug out that photo and discovered that I looked very similar to the woman in the photo. When I grew up, the first thing I wanted to investigate was this."

Before he was ten, he knew nothing. Although Wei Ronghua was strict with him, she loved him dearly. Being precocious, he wasn’t very dependent on his parents, and overall, he could be considered happy.

When he was ten, everything changed. From his drunken father’s words, he learned some things, and his attitude toward Wei Ronghua was no longer the same as before.

As he grew older and had the ability to uncover the truth of those years, the mother-son relationship with Wei Ronghua completely severed.

It was hard for Shen Jianian to imagine what kind of mindset Fu Jichen had at ten years old, shouldering the impact of the truth alone and growing up keeping such a secret.

She couldn’t find words of comfort, so she reached out an arm to wrap around his neck, as if embracing the ten-year-old him through time and space.

The arms around Fu Jichen’s neck felt soft and fragrant. He leaned back, facing the ceiling, a smile forming on his lips: "Is this your way of comforting me?"

Shen Jianian: "Mm."

Fu Jichen wanted to tell her that it happened so long ago that he forgot whether he was really sad at the time. Probably not, as he always quickly accepted things.

Whether good or bad.

The only thing he couldn’t let go of was her leaving him; he didn’t believe she died, and insisted on searching day after day. Fortunately, his persistence paid off.

Fu Jichen turned to embrace her. He once resented his father Fu Zhengjun and felt it was unfair to Xiao Heting. When similar things happened to him one day, he realized that the phrase "being helpless in a situation" is not just empty words.

But he won’t have moments of "helplessness" anymore; he will firmly hold on to her hand.

*

Shen Jianian had a short nap and woke up to find it was still not yet twelve o’clock, the bedroom lit by a bedside lamp.

Her arm was still around Fu Jichen’s neck, her face buried against his shoulder. As soon as she removed her hand, he awoke.

The man opened his eyes, dazed and confused, and kissed her on the face.

Shen Jianian’s voice was muffled: "Does it still hurt?"

After she fell asleep, Fu Jichen took a painkiller stored in the drawer of the bedside table. He reached out and found it, popped one into his mouth, and swallowed it dry without water. Now the pain had subsided.

"It’s okay," he said.

Shen Jianian got up: "I’m going to take a shower; I’m sweaty."

Having stayed here for about twenty days, she expertly went to the dressing room, searched for pajamas, and went to take a shower in the bathroom. As hot water poured down, she thought of what Fu Jichen had told her.

Such an important secret, concerning his background, and he just told her like that. Does he trust her too much? Isn’t he worried she might leak it and affect him?

Shen Jianian was well aware she wouldn’t tell anyone, but Fu Jichen might not be...

After her shower, Shen Jianian lay back on the bed, her body scented with shower gel, moist with steam. She asked Fu Jichen: "Why did you tell me these things?"

"Isn’t it a bit late to ask this question now?" After his leg pain faded, Fu Jichen felt much better, smiling without that fragility.

Shen Jianian: "How is it late?"

Lowering his head, Fu Jichen lightly tapped his chin against her forehead, his voice soft and gentle: "Because you are the one I want to marry. Telling you these things is to let you know a complete me."

Shen Jianian did not expect his answer to be this; had she known earlier, she wouldn’t have asked.

Seeing her instantly turn into an ostrich, shrinking her head and keeping silent, Fu Jichen knew she hadn’t thought that far yet; him being anxious wouldn’t help.

He picked up the diamond ring Shen Jianian had placed on the bedside table, which hadn’t been touched: "I mentioned our situation to the old man at home today. Perhaps he’s really old now and said nothing. It seems like he wants me to decide for myself. So, when are you willing to marry me?"

Shen Jianian looked at the glittering ring, her mind a muddle; how did it suddenly turn into a proposal?

This time, this place, under these circumstances... a proposal?

Did he forget they’ve only been dating for a short time?

After a brief silence, Shen Jianian said something that ruined the mood: "What about the ring I used to wear? Was it ever found?"

She clearly saw that Fu Jichen’s face turned dark the moment her words fell.

"I had Aunt Cheng throw it in the toilet." With just a few words, Fu Jichen spoke through gritted teeth.

She had the ability to stir up his emotions, and only she possessed this skill.

Fu Jichen grabbed her hand and directly slipped the diamond ring onto her ring finger, kissing it: "Let’s leave it at that; New Year’s Eve holds significant meaning."

At this moment, the clock struck midnight, heralding the arrival of a new year.

Shen Jianian foolishly raised her hand, observing the perfectly fitted diamond ring, wrinkling her brows and nose together. How could someone be so domineering even during a proposal?

She clearly never liked domineering people before.