Principal Wen Shu froze.
She had prepared a whole speech to persuade Jiang Xun to accept the university's "gesture of goodwill," yet his single, offhand remark stopped her cold.
Then, in the next instant, her gaze shifted—from respect to something even deeper.
Admiration.
He had refused.
A temptation no ordinary man could turn down, and he had rejected it without hesitation.
This man, chosen by fate and blessed among thousands, truly wasn't one of the common kind.
"Yes! Yes, of course!" Principal Wen nodded eagerly, her eyes glowing with awe. "My oversight entirely! Sir, your ambitions are noble—we were far too narrow-minded!"
Jiang Xun: "…"
His energy was limited, yes—but not because he planned to study.
He muttered something under his breath, made no attempt to explain, and walked straight into the villa.
Only when the door shut behind him did the principal and the rest of the school officials finally take their leave, thoroughly convinced they'd just met a living legend.
The villa doors closed, sealing out the world.
Su Qingyu lasted exactly three seconds before she collapsed onto the enormous leather sofa, kicking off her high heels with a loud thud.
"Oh my god, my feet are on fire!" she groaned, limbs splayed. "All that ceremony—felt like being a bride in an eight-man sedan chair!"
Meanwhile, Mu Qingxue had already switched into "efficient housekeeper" mode, inspecting every corner of the villa—water temperature, air filtration, network signal—nothing escaped her meticulous eye.
Then, her phone buzzed softly.
She stepped aside and answered in a low voice."Mom."
A calm, dignified female voice came through."Qingxue, have you arrived?"
"Yes, Mother. The sir is very satisfied with the school's arrangements."
"Good."
A pause—then her tone turned sharp, almost severe."Remember this. The national Tianhe Project grants you one month of exclusive protection. This is the golden period."
"This month, you must secure your position at all costs. Jiang Xun—and everyone else—must know that you, Mu Qingxue, are his one and only rightful wife."
"When the protection period ends, the wolves and tigers will come for you. If you haven't cemented your place by then, you'll be torn apart."
Mu Qingxue's fingers whitened around her phone. She nodded firmly."I understand, Mother. I know what must be done."
When the call ended, her expression was no longer soft or hesitant.Her eyes were cold steel.
Night fell.
Jiang Xun had just finished his shower and was lounging on the balcony chair in a loose robe, savoring the evening breeze—when a deep mechanical roar rumbled from afar.
It grew louder. Closer.
Then stopped right outside the villa.
He frowned and looked down.
A massive box truck had pulled up in the garden driveway.
Mu Qingxue stood beside it, directing several female bodyguards in black suits as they unloaded a mountain of large crates.
The scene looked less like a delivery—and more like someone moving in.
"What the hell is this?"
His brow furrowed.
Moments later, Mu Qingxue came upstairs, a faint blush coloring her face. She carried a tablet in her hands.
"Sir," she greeted, bowing slightly. "In order to better… serve you—and to enrich our marital life—I made a few preparations."
She handed him the tablet.
On the screen was a beautifully designed PowerPoint.
Title: "N Creative Solutions for Enhancing Nighttime Quality of Life."
Jiang Xun: "…"
Before he could say a word, she had already moved to the newly delivered crates and opened the first one.
Inside—neatly packed, professionally tailored—were dozens of elaborate cosplay costumes.
Mu Qingxue held up two outfits like a proud merchandiser presenting new stock.
"For example," she explained earnestly, "we could try role-playing. This one's Mercy from Overwatch—symbol of healing and protection."
She lifted another—red and blue spandex, unmistakable."And this is Spider-Man, representing youthful vitality and heroic charm."
Then she opened another crate. This one gleamed with metallic armor and ornate props.
"If you prefer something more combative, I also have complete World of Warcraft armor sets—Alliance and Horde, both."
One by one, she cracked open seven, eight boxes.
In mere minutes, the living room was buried under a mountain of costumes—from anime to fantasy, mythology to sci-fi—every genre imaginable.
Jiang Xun stared blankly at the half-truck of "battle gear," then at Mu Qingxue's perfectly serious face, her tone like a corporate project briefing.
Good grief. The competition really is cutthroat.
Mu Qingxue, oblivious to how insane this all looked, tapped to the final slide on her tablet—a scrolling inventory list.
"Sir, this is the full catalog, including background summaries for each character. Please select tonight's… 'lesson theme.'"
Her eyes sparkled with nervous anticipation—like a student awaiting the teacher's grade on a final project.
"Which class," she asked softly, "would you like to start with tonight?"
Jiang Xun said nothing.
His gaze swept over the mountain of costumes, then back to her face—flushed, hopeful, desperate for approval.
She looked radiant, almost trembling with eagerness.
As if his single nod would transform her instantly into Mercy or Spider-Man, ready to perform her part in this absurd domestic drama.
He leaned back in his chair, lazily picking up his glass of ice water, and took a slow sip.
Turning marriage into a competitive project, complete with course outlines... Sister, your professional dedication is terrifying.
He almost laughed out loud—but his expression didn't change.
Mu Qingxue's heart began to pound.
Was it not enough?Were her ideas too strange? Too forward?
Had she misread his preferences entirely?
"Sir," she said quickly, flustered, "if these themes don't appeal to you, I have backup plans—look, I've also prepared a list of top-grossing films and their most iconic scenes for immersive—"
"Stop."
Jiang Xun's voice cut through her words—quiet, but absolute.
Mu Qingxue froze.
"Sir…?"
"Put all of it away," he said simply. "There's plenty of time."
Her lips parted in disbelief."P-put them away?"
She stared at the piles of custom-made costumes, her mind blank.Was this… a failure?
Had she already blown her one-month advantage?
His tone didn't change."Yes," he said evenly. "Put them away."