147: Chapter 147 Feng'er, let's do it tonight.

[Second Critical Hit: 3x! Reward Received: 3,000,000 Yuan!]

[Third Critical Hit: 1x! Reward Received: 1,000,000 Yuan!]

[Fourth Critical Hit: 4x! Reward Received: 4,000,000 Yuan!]

[Total Received: 10,000,000 Yuan! The funds have been transferred to the host's bank card and can be withdrawn and used at any time!]

Wang Yang's lips slowly curled up, and he couldn't stop grinning from ear to ear.

Ten million.

He was exhausted tonight, but the effort and the reward were proportional.

He looked down at Luo Shiyun in his arms; she was fast asleep, completely unaware of what had happened.

Her little mouth was slightly open, her breathing soft and steady, and a bit of drool hung from the corner of her mouth, glistening under the light.

Wang Yang reached out, gently brushed the stray hair from her forehead, and kissed her on the forehead.

"Good night, Sister Shiyun."

Luo Shiyun let out a soft hum in her sleep and snuggled closer into his arms, finding a more comfortable position.

Wang Yang held her close and closed his eyes.

Before long, he also drifted into a deep sleep.

...

Meanwhile.

In Yuntian City, in a detached villa.

Late at night, past one in the morning.

The living room lights were still on, and the orange glow shone out through the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking exceptionally lonely in the night.

Zhang Shouren sat on the sofa, wearing a dark-colored bathrobe.

He held a cigarette, the ash having accumulated into a long length, forgotten to be flicked off.

The ashtray on the coffee table was stuffed with cigarette butts, and the tea had long since gone cold, untouched.

His brows were furrowed, the corners of his mouth turned down, and his eyes were fixed on the doorway, as if waiting for someone.

He had been out entertaining until very late today; he had returned after nine o'clock, but Wang Feng was not home.

He had called her several times, but no one answered.

He sent a few messages, but no one replied.

He sat on the sofa, waiting from after nine until now, having waited for several hours.

The sound of a car engine came from the doorway, approaching from afar, and then cut out.

Zhang Shouren stubbed out his cigarette and sat up straight.

The door opened.

Wang Feng walked in, wearing a beige long coat, her hair let down, her face lightly made up, and her lips rosy.

Her face was slightly flushed, though it was unclear if it was from the cold outside or something else.

She reached out to turn on the light—the living room lights were already on.

She froze for a moment.

Then she saw Zhang Shouren.

He was sitting on the sofa, wearing a dark-colored bathrobe, holding a cigarette, the ashtray on the coffee table stuffed with cigarette butts.

His eyes were fixed on her, his gaze neither cold nor warm, revealing no particular emotion.

Wang Feng's heart skipped a beat, as if someone had given it a hard tug.

Her hand froze on the doorknob, she paused, and her heartbeat suddenly quickened.

She hadn't expected him to be sitting in the living room waiting for her.

Usually, when he came back from entertaining, he would take a shower and go straight to sleep; he never waited for her.

What was wrong today?

A thought flashed through her mind—did he know?

Impossible.

She quickly dismissed the thought.

What she had with Deputy Director Wang Hao was done so discreetly; there was no way he could know.

She took a deep breath, her expression returning to calm, and she forced a smile.

"Why aren't you asleep yet?"

Her voice was a little tight; she could hear it herself.

Zhang Shouren looked at her, his gaze resting on her face for a few seconds before shifting away.

"Waiting for you. Where have you been? Coming back so late."

Wang Feng took off her coat, hung it on the coat rack, and walked over to sit on the other side of the sofa.

She sat down naturally, but her fingers were clenched inside her coat pocket, her palms full of sweat.

"Didn't I tell you? I went to my big brother's place. He's helping find a way for Mingde's matter."

Zhang Shouren nodded, saying nothing.

His gaze fell on Wang Feng's face, then landed on her neck, pausing for a moment.

There was a faint red mark on her neck, as if it had been rubbed by something.

He frowned but didn't ask.

"Have you eaten? I'll heat something up for you."

Wang Feng shook her head.

"I've eaten. Don't go to any trouble, get some rest early."

Zhang Shouren grunted, stood up, and walked upstairs.

"I'm going to take a shower first."

Wang Feng watched his back disappear at the top of the stairs and let out a long breath.

She looked down at the red mark on her neck and reached up to pull her collar up to cover it.

She stood up, turned off the living room light, and followed him upstairs.

...

In the bedroom, Zhang Shouren came out of the bathroom.

Wearing a dark-colored bathrobe, his hair still wet, he wiped it with a towel.

He lay on the bed, leaning against the headboard, picked up his phone to scroll through it, and then put it down.

Wang Feng came out of the bathroom, wearing a red lace nightgown, her hair blown dry and draped over her shoulders.

The nightgown was a camisole style with thin straps hanging on her shoulders, and the neckline was cut very low.

Revealing a large expanse of fair skin and a deep cleavage.

The hem was very short, just past the top of her thighs, and her two legs were white and straight, shimmering faintly under the light.

She walked to the bed, lifted the quilt, and lay inside.

She turned her back to Zhang Shouren, pulled the quilt up to her shoulders, and closed her eyes.

She was exhausted.

This afternoon at the hotel, she had served Deputy Director Wang Hao so many times that there wasn't a single part of her body that didn't ache.

She just wanted to sleep.

Zhang Shouren was not asleep.

He put his phone down, turned to his side, and looked at Wang Feng's back.

The red lace nightgown was striking under the light, making her skin look even whiter.

Her shoulders were narrow, her waist was thin, and the curve of her hips peeked out from under the quilt.

Round and full, like a ripe peach.

His throat bobbed.

They hadn't been intimate for a long time.

When was the last time? He couldn't remember.

A month? Two months? Or even longer?

He reached out and placed his hand gently on her waist.

Wang Feng's body stiffened for a moment.

Zhang Shouren's fingers gently caressed her waist, his fingertips touching the lace fabric, slippery and soft.

He rested his chin on her shoulder, his lips brushing against her earlobe.

"Wife."

Wang Feng didn't move, nor did she speak.

Zhang Shouren's lips slid from her earlobe to her neck, kissing it lightly.

"You look so beautiful today."

Wang Feng's body tensed up even more.

Her fingers clenched the bedsheet inside the quilt, her knuckles turning white.

Zhang Shouren's hand moved up from her waist, touching the edge of her nightgown.

"Feng'er, let's do it once. We haven't done that in a long time."

His voice was very low, filled with longing.

A wave of annoyance surged in Wang Feng's heart.

She was exhausted.

She didn't want to.

Her body had already been worn out by Deputy Director Wang Hao all afternoon; she just wanted to rest now.

"Not tonight. I'm too tired."

Zhang Shouren's hand paused.

"Tired from what? Didn't you just come back from your big brother's? You seem so energetic."

Wang Feng bit her lip.

"I'm tired from driving. Let's do it tomorrow."

Zhang Shouren's hand did not pull back; it continued to gently caress her waist.

"Wife, we haven't done that for so many days. Do you not love me anymore?"

A wave of guilt surged in Wang Feng's heart.

She remembered how she had been pleasuring Deputy Director Wang Hao under him in the hotel this afternoon.

Her face turned red—not from shyness, but from shame.