Quick Transmigration: Yandere Male Leads? Hand 'Em Over! - Chapter 83

Bo Qi’an tiptoed into the master bedroom, quietly hugging a quilt in his arms.

Although he had a key, when he noticed the door hadn’t been locked—perhaps even left open for him on purpose—his thin lips curved into a subtle smile.

To avoid making any noise, Bo Qi’an slipped off his slippers and walked barefoot over the carpet, making his way to the bedside lamp and turning off the sleep light.

Leaving the sleep lamp on too long wasn’t good. The light could suppress melatonin production and interfere with the body’s circadian rhythm—he had to come turn it off for his wife’s sake.

Bo Qi’an moved around to the other side of the bed. He knelt on one knee and gently wrapped an arm around her delicate shoulders, slowly adjusting her from a side-lying position to lying flat.

The feel of her soft, smooth skin made his breath catch slightly. He clenched his teeth to stop himself from losing control.

He wasn’t here to harass her—just worried that sleeping on her side all night would cause a stiff neck, shoulder compression, or shallow breathing.

Once he’d tucked the blanket in neatly, Bo Qi’an picked up the phone on the nightstand, unlocked it using her facial recognition, and added all his contact info.

It was purely to make it easier for her to reach him.

Why not just ask for it openly?

She was sleeping so soundly—how could he wake her? Between husband and wife, being too formal created distance. Adding his contact details didn’t need to be announced.

Thinking of something else, Bo Qi’an took out his own phone and quietly recorded her face and fingerprint. That way, she could access his phone anytime.

A qualified husband had no secrets his wife couldn’t know—not even his private folders or company confidentials.

Once everything was done, he spread the quilt on the carpet beside the bed, lay down, and kissed the newly set lock screen.

It was a screenshot from the surveillance footage—a soft, sleeping image of his wife, so beautiful it made his heart ache.

The more he looked, the more he liked it. He simply set the screen to stay on and placed the phone on its side, using the wall for support. Lying on his side, he watched her sleep… and slowly drifted off himself.

Melatonin? Stiff necks? Bad for your eyes?

Bo Qi’an threw all that out the window. How could newlyweds sleep in separate beds? Without her, he couldn’t sleep at all.

What he didn’t know was—shortly after he fell asleep, someone quietly took his phone, attached a magnetic wireless charger to the 1% battery, and turned up the air conditioner for him.

At dawn, his alarm vibrated once before being swiftly silenced. When Bo Qi’an climbed off the floor, he realized he felt more refreshed than he had in ages.

Since returning from abroad, he’d barely slept at night. Even when he managed to drift off, it was plagued by nightmares—frigid seawater, gasping for air.

His wife… was truly the most effective sleeping pill he could ask for.

Caught between surprise and joy, Bo Qi’an didn’t even notice the fully charged phone. He leaned against the headboard, bent over, and gently kissed her on the forehead.

The good morning kiss—an essential ritual.

Then, like a husband who didn’t want to disturb his sleeping wife, he tiptoed out of the room with his quilt. Once outside, he calmly instructed the staff:

“Don’t tell Madam I was here. She just moved in, and she might not be used to the environment. Make sure to talk to her, keep her company.”

“All sharp objects in the house must be put away. She mustn’t have access to them. The balcony and upstairs windows—someone should be watching at all times. Don’t let her get too close. It’s dangerous.”

The housemaids, who had just been hired overnight: “???”

Did… did the Madam move in willingly? Why did it sound like they were preventing a suicide?

Still, they were paid to do a job. Even if they had doubts about this seemingly perfect gentleman, they nodded politely.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Bo. We’ll take good care of the Madam.”

Before even meeting her, the maids were already thinking:

Living with such a handsome, wealthy man in this luxurious villa—what on earth could Madam be unhappy about?!

After observing for a short while, Bo Qi’an saw no signs of self-destructive behavior. Still, he believed in preparing for the worst. Young women often treated love as everything.

He wasn’t sure how deep Su Ci’s feelings ran for Lu Jinyan. If she ever had a moment of weakness—if she’d rather be broken jade than intact tile—that was the last thing he wanted.

With everything arranged, Bo Qi’an didn’t even dare stay for breakfast. He packed the meal the chef had prepared, told Uncle Zhao to start the car, and headed for the office.

Uncle Zhao had already heard from Housekeeper Wu about the boss’s sudden marriage. The old driver chuckled.

“President Bo, are you hiding from the Madam? How can a couple get closer if they don’t spend time together?”

Bo Qi’an sipped the sweet soy milk, but it tasted bitter in his mouth. Even the fried buns got stuck in his throat, difficult to swallow.

Still, his voice was firm.
“What nonsense are you talking about? My wife isn’t some man-eating monster—why would I avoid her? There’s just urgent business at the office that I have to deal with.”

A man’s career determined his place at home. Especially for someone like Bo Qi’an—his family looked perfect on the surface, but inside, it was riddled with cracks and couldn’t withstand scrutiny.

He knew better than anyone that this “happiness” was something he had snatched by force. He couldn’t afford to lose his pride—or his business. Only by holding the Lu family and Su family in his grip could he keep Su Ci.

Uncle Zhao could only sigh.
“Whatever you say, sir.”

At the Bo Corporation headquarters, Bo Qi’an took the private CEO elevator straight to the 55th floor. As soon as the doors opened, a dozen young, attractive female secretaries greeted him in unison.

He gave a cool nod but couldn’t shake the strange discomfort creeping up inside. He didn’t know what it was—but it bothered him.

His deep voice carried a hint of impatience.
“Get back to work.”

Though both male and female secretaries worked in the CEO’s office, the majority were women. It had been this way even before Bo Qi’an returned to take over, and the personnel arrangements remained unchanged.

At 11 a.m., after finishing a multinational conference call, Bo Qi’an returned to his office. He was about to ask his assistant to make him some coffee when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

The woman who entered wore a professional short suit skirt, carrying a steaming cup of rich coffee. She walked toward him with catlike grace.

“President Bo, I’m Feng Yan from the secretarial department. I brewed you a cup of coffee. I hope it’s to your liking…”

As she spoke, she moved around his desk, her slender waist swaying seductively. Her delicate hand reached for the zipper on the side of her pencil skirt, leaning into him with obvious intent.

“President Bo… ah!”

Bo Qi’an had been considering a promotion for this perceptive secretary. He never expected her thoughts to be so filthy.

He dodged instantly and, in one fluid motion, yanked down the thick window drapes—throwing them over her head.

Thankfully, his reflexes were sharp, and his moral compass intact.

Otherwise… his eyes would’ve been permanently scarred.

Bo Qi’an pressed the intercom, summoning his assistant and the security guards to handle the matter. He, on the other hand, stepped far outside the office, waiting for them to disinfect and “purify” the space.

Taking out his phone, he looked at the lock screen—his gentle, beautiful wife—and only then did the nausea in his stomach start to ease.

He opened the pinned chat.

He typed out a message full of explanation, self-reflection, and a plea for comfort. Then deleted it. Typed it again. Deleted it again.

In the end… he didn’t send anything.

The incident had been shut down in its infancy—there was no need to let his wife know and upset her. Girls had vivid imaginations, after all.

Still, after this ordeal, Bo Qi’an finally realized…

That odd feeling he’d had this morning?

Now he understood exactly what it was.