Quick Transmigration: Yandere Male Leads? Hand 'Em Over! - Chapter 82

Su Ci found the situation amusing. Since Bo Qi’an clearly didn’t want to be recognized, she decided not to expose his disguise and played along with the role.

“Xiao Fu, getting married is a big deal. Didn’t your boss want to come in person tonight? Could it be… I’m not that important to him?”

“!!!”

Bo Qi’an was thrown off completely. A smart wife could be both a blessing and a curse. Her very first question had already cornered him. What was he supposed to say—that he couldn’t show his face because he’d stolen another man’s fiancée?

He was right there in the car, but how was he supposed to explain himself?

Nervous and flustered, his mouth moved faster than his brain:
“Absolutely not! Young madam, our boss is busy planning the wedding! You’re the person he holds dearest in his heart!”

Why else would he snatch her away in the dead of night, terrified that some other man might take her from him?

It was shameless, no doubt. Disgraceful, even.

But bitter fruit was still fruit.

He had to marry her first—he had plenty of ways to sweeten things later. That was still better than letting Lu Jinyan swoop in.

Seeing how nervously he kept rubbing the steering wheel, Su Ci decided not to tease him any further. Safety came first.

Bo Qi’an didn’t take her to Weiming Villa. Instead, they went to another one of his properties located in a central district.

Weiming Villa was the epitome of luxury, surrounded by beautiful scenery and fresh air. But it was remote—his grandmother stayed there to recuperate. Bo Qi’an worried Su Ci might not feel comfortable living so far out.

Once they arrived, the “driver” Xiao Fu personally carried Su Ci’s suitcase inside and, without needing directions, brought it straight to the largest master bedroom on the second floor.

Downstairs, Housekeeper Wu kept Su Ci company with small talk.

“Young madam, what’s your usual daily schedule like? I’ll inform the staff to accommodate it. Do you have any dietary preferences or restrictions…”

In truth, he was just stalling for time—for a certain someone upstairs.

Meanwhile, “Xiao Fu” had already removed his leather gloves and gone to the bathroom to wash his hands. He lathered up with soap, used the seven-step handwashing method, and repeated it three times before carefully drying his hands.

When he opened the white suitcase, his slender, well-defined hands trembled uncontrollably.

Half of his effort was spent keeping his hands steady. The other half was focused on holding back the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He had to fight hard to contain the joy bubbling up in his chest.

His wife’s clothes were folded neatly, lightly scented, and some of them were so small they barely filled his palm—soft, delicate, and intoxicatingly fragrant.

Her toiletries—he made a mental note of every brand, already planning to buy more of each so her scent would linger all around him.

And this box—inside were her jewelry design sketches, each one delicate as a miniature piece of art. He immediately thought of having someone search for matching gemstones.

…

Half an hour later, all of Su Ci’s belongings had been arranged. The once cold and impersonal bachelor bedroom now felt warm, cozy, and lived-in.

Xiao Fu took one last lingering look at the room. As if afraid to disturb anything, he gently closed the door and quietly disappeared into the corridor’s shadows.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t share a room with his wife just yet.

It was all too sudden—she needed time to adjust.

Girls were sensitive. On one side, there was her childhood fiancé of over ten years. On the other, a man who had forcefully taken her as his wife through sheer dominance and intimidation.

It was obvious whom she would love—and whom she would resent.

So for now, Bo Qi’an had no plans to reveal himself. Better to stay hidden than risk stirring her disgust.

Downstairs, Housekeeper Wu was racking his brain, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse to get her household registration and ID card.

“Uncle Wu, is there something else?”

He forced a guilty smile.
“Young madam, it’s like this. The security here is pretty strict. We might need your documents to register your information…”

Lying to that beautiful face felt borderline criminal.

He had expected her to ask questions. To his surprise, she simply pulled out her ID and household booklet from her bag, handed them over naturally, and even thanked him politely.

Housekeeper Wu breathed a sigh of relief, his kindly face lighting up with a grandfatherly smile.
“Don’t worry, young madam. I’ll personally take care of it first thing in the morning and return everything by noon.”

It was getting late. With his mission complete, Housekeeper Wu led Su Ci upstairs to rest.

“Young madam, this is the bedroom young master prepared for you. Let me know if anything needs adjusting. If anything’s missing, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”

Su Ci looked around. Bo Qi’an’s taste was impeccable. The layout was not only beautiful but also convenient. It was clear he’d put a lot of thought into it.

“Uncle Wu, doesn’t Bo Qi’an live here?”

Once again, Housekeeper Wu nodded with a guilty conscience, keeping a straight face as he lied.
“The young master owns many properties. He hardly stays here. You can relax and rest well.”

Relax, his foot.

This was Bo Qi’an’s favorite residence. He had lived here ever since returning from abroad. He was just worried that moving in too quickly would scare her off—so he’d specifically told Wu not to say a word.

Su Ci smiled slightly.
“Alright, I understand. Uncle Wu, you should rest too.”

As the door closed behind him, Housekeeper Wu let out another sigh of relief. Thank goodness the young madam was so kind and pure-hearted. Compared to her, his young master really did seem born with a wicked streak.

What he didn’t know was—Su Ci had already seen through everything.

She just chose not to say it. She wanted to see what Bo Qi’an would do next.

After all, what kind of “vacant” villa had multiple pairs of men’s leather shoes by the entrance, electric razors by the sink, and sleepwear and underwear neatly hung in the closet?

—

Their first night living together.

As expected, Bo Qi’an couldn’t sleep.

He worried his wife might not be used to the bed, or the pillows, or the air, or might be allergic to the water.

In a state of anxious overthinking, Bo Qi’an installed a hidden camera in the master bedroom.

Meanwhile, he stayed in the adjacent guest room, sitting in the dim light beside the sofa, his hawk-like eyes glued to the faint glow of the screen.

He saw his wife take a set of pajamas into the bathroom. Then the bathroom door closed, and the frosted glass began to blur her silhouette under the soft yellow lights.

There hadn’t been time to install a camera inside the bathroom.

What if she slipped while taking a bath? What if she drowned? What if she couldn’t find the shampoo?

The thoughts wouldn’t stop. Bo Qi’an had to fight the overwhelming urge to rush next door, knock on the door, and offer to assist her personally.

He forced himself to sit still, lips pressed tight, praying silently that nothing would go wrong.

After all, someone like him… wasn’t exactly respectable.

Soon, Su Ci emerged from the bathroom in her sleepwear. Warm steam trailed behind her, casting a blush over her pale, jade-like skin. A soft pink shimmered beneath the glow—stunning and ethereal.

She truly was one of Nuwa’s finest creations.
[“Nuwa” refers to the goddess in Chinese mythology who created humanity. Comparing someone to her “finest creation” is a high, almost sacred compliment.]

Bo Qi’an’s usually composed expression crumbled. His dark eyes deepened, and even his breathing became cautious, afraid even a sound would disturb this vision of a woman.

Not until she lay down and turned off the lights did he dare to lift his right hand, gently brushing his fingertips against the screen. Even though the image had faded into shadows, he couldn’t help himself.

Su Ci shifted slightly and turned on the bedside night lamp. The soft, warm light lit up her glassy eyes and the gentle curve of her lips.

“Goodnight.”

On the other side of the screen, Bo Qi’an felt as if he’d been struck by an invisible arrow. He instinctively whispered:
“Goodnight…”

Then immediately realized—she couldn’t hear him.

She wasn’t even talking to him!

She was saying goodnight to the lamp!

The camera just happened to be hidden inside it!

Bo Qi’an had never imagined he’d one day be jealous… of a lamp.

Jealous to the point of madness.

He forced himself to calm down. Thanks to that little lamp, her face was visible again. She was lying on her side, and from this angle, he could see her entire face—even the faint flutter of her breathing.

At the stroke of midnight, Bo Qi’an came to a conclusion: his wife must be sound asleep.

Which meant…

It was time for him to get to work.