Quick Transmigration: Yandere Male Leads? Hand 'Em Over! - Chapter 91

Bo Qi’an wasn’t the kind of man to get rattled at grand occasions, but the moment he stepped onto the red carpet with his wife on his arm, a wave of suppressed emotions came crashing down.

Everywhere he looked, he saw people staring at her—covetous eyes from men, women, and even a few guests’ pets.

Unconcealed. Greedy. Shameless desire.

Even though her full face was hidden behind a mask, Bo Qi’an still couldn’t stop himself from getting anxious. If he had known it would be like this, he never would’ve brought her here in person.

He should’ve just had the auction items delivered straight to their house for her to choose from. Anything she didn’t like could be sold off cheap—or tossed altogether.

But if they’d done it that way, then he’d be the only one who ever got to see her looking this stunning in a gown. And he wanted the whole world to know—this was the woman he married.

Maybe he should’ve brought a professional camera and filmed her himself. A whole private photoshoot, every image hung in their bedroom for him to admire over and over again.

But even that idea didn’t make him feel any better.
As the heat of all those eyes followed her across the red carpet, his hand, resting at his side, curled into a tight fist.

So brazen! So delusional! No self-respect! Morally bankrupt! Completely unworthy! Dreaming above their league! A bunch of toads lusting after a swan!

In the two minutes it took them to walk the carpet, Bo Qi’an mentally cursed every single man daring to ogle his wife.

Women? He wouldn’t curse them…
Unless they were the type to flirt with a married woman—that kind of behavior showed a clear lack of moral character.

You think liking someone is just about appearances? Look at yourselves—do you even match up? With those filthy eyes glued to my wife?

Even someone like him—a man worth tens of billions, with the looks, the body, and the discipline of a gentleman—had to be blessed by eight lifetimes of good karma just to barely deserve her.

And these losers dared to fantasize?

Sensing the tension and frustration building in her man, Su Ci tightened her grip around his arm, reached forward, and slipped her fingers between his—interlaced tightly, no space between them.

“Hubby, have you noticed how many people are looking at us?”

Bo Qi’an replied in a low voice, “They’re all looking at my wife.”

Under his black-and-gold mask, his deep, narrow eyes were clouded with gloom. His voice carried a note of grievance.

“There are enough people who like you to form a line all the way to the South Pole.”

He was just one of them—a lucky bastard hit by fate’s most precious falling star.

“But out of everyone who likes me, you rank number one.”

Su Ci played with his fingers, cool and smooth like carved jade. She leaned in and whispered against his ear.

“Everyone can see it—we’re a match made in heaven. Before tomorrow, our photos on the red carpet will be turned into headlines, spreading across newspapers and the internet. Doesn’t it kind of feel like our wedding photos?”

That was all it took to lift the cloud over Bo Qi’an’s heart. The sulky gloom vanished in an instant. He bent down and kissed the top of her soft hair.

“My wife is brilliant.”

To get more “wedding photos,” he even deliberately lingered on the red carpet, posing for ten whole minutes like he was on a runway—completely unwilling to leave.

Somewhere nearby, a man muttered under his breath:

“That’s the fake heiress, right? Sold her face just to climb the ladder. What a cheap slut. I bet if you throw enough money, she’d let any of us have a go…”

Bo Qi’an’s sharp ears picked up the words instantly, his icy eyes locking onto the man like a blade.

He stormed over in large strides, veins bulging on his arm as he grabbed the man by the collar and yanked him forward.

“Who let this filthy animal in?”

The man’s face turned red from the chokehold, struggling with both hands to break free, but he couldn’t budge Bo Qi’an at all.

In the scuffle, Bo Qi’an’s mask slipped off.

The moment the man saw that striking, noble face, his soul practically left his body.

Of all people to run his mouth in front of—why him?!

“C-Cough, I was wrong! President Bo, please have mercy! I didn’t know you were connected to Miss Cen—I’ll apologize! Right now!”

Miss Cen? Who’s that? Never heard of her.

As long as he hadn’t insulted his beloved wife, Bo Qi’an didn’t care.

He paused, released his grip, and the man collapsed to the ground with jelly legs.

“I’m not connected to her. Say whatever you want—but don’t lump other fake heiresses into your trash talk. It’s not their fault they were switched at birth. Understand?”

The man nodded furiously. “Yes! Yes! I understand!”

The comment was subtle but telling. He quickly realized—the stunning woman beside Bo Qi’an must be the Su family’s real daughter.

The social circle wasn’t that big. The only high-profile “fake heiress” scandals had come from the Cen and Su families. The guy had just been unlucky enough to walk into a landmine.

He swore to himself to wipe the phrase “fake heiress” from his vocabulary and never talk nonsense again.

Bo Qi’an calmly smoothed out the wrinkles in his suit, picked up his fallen mask, and returned to Su Ci’s side like nothing had happened—totally different from the furious man of moments before.

“Wife, shall we head in? I’ve had them prepare desserts and snacks. We can eat while we watch. If you like something, we’ll bid. If you don’t like it—we’ll bid anyway, and toss it for fun. No need to show anyone mercy.”

His voice wasn’t hushed at all. People from far away could hear it loud and clear.

Seriously? Over two glances at his woman, he’s ready to buy out the entire auction just to spite us?

The worst part? He could buy the whole thing, and it would kill them.

Most of the guests had scrimped and saved just to afford one or two items—and now they might not even get the chance to place a bid.

Where’s the justice?! Where’s the humanity?!

Not far away, Cen Leyi stood frozen, staring at the retreating backs of that breathtaking couple. Her twisted hands clenched the fine fabric of her gown until it crumpled.

She never would’ve guessed…
That powerful, magnetic man was none other than Bo Qi’an—the very man she’d been longing for all evening!

She had been a little attracted when he stepped in to shut that loudmouth up. And the moment his mask fell, she nearly burst with joy.

He still cared. Otherwise, why would he come to her defense?

But his next words—his denial of any connection—sent an icy chill down her spine.

Then she heard him call that other woman “wife.”
His voice was so gentle. So devoted.

Cen Leyi bit through her lower lip, dizzy with heartbreak.

What’s going on? Is this revenge?
She had slept with Gu Beichen at Bo Qi’an’s villa, and now he’d gone and found some random woman to fake a marriage with.
Just like in their last life—vindictive to the core.

Still, as long as he hadn’t really fallen for that woman, and if he apologized and softened up a little… Cen Leyi figured she’d still be willing to marry him.

Watching his tall figure disappear around the corner, she grabbed her skirt and rushed to follow.

“Sorry, miss. The second-floor VIP lounge is for special guests only. Do you have an invitation or someone waiting for you upstairs?”

The well-mannered usher blocked her path.

Cen Leyi actually laughed in disbelief.
Some random usher dares talk to her like this? What—was he bored? Had a death wish?

“Get Bo Qi’an down here to talk to me. I’ll give him two minutes. After that, he can beg all he wants and it’ll be too late.”

Upstairs, Bo Qi’an had just led Su Ci to the sofa and picked up a fork and knife, getting ready to feed her desserts himself.

He had personally called in the chef from their private villa to prepare the menu.

Back at the birthday banquet, she had taken extra bites of certain desserts, fruits, drinks, and snacks. He remembered every single one—and had them all brought in tonight.

Knock knock knock—

Someone was at the door.
Someone who clearly didn’t know their place.