After Time Traveling, I was Forced to Marry a Wealthy Family

The cicadas were chirping in May, marking the beginning of the hot weather. Energetic children attending the calligraphy class wore bright yellow short-sleeved shirts, reminiscent of Astro Boy’s attire, and played under the grape trellis in the small yard. It made one feel as though this summer was going to be full of life and activity.

Mu Ci, on the other hand, was dressed in a meticulously fastened white long-sleeved shirt. Not a glimpse of his collarbone was exposed, emphasizing the beauty of his pale face and slender neck. The sunlight falling on his visage seemed to add a delicate and transparent texture.

This person’s aura seemed out of place in the calligraphy class courtyard. Mu Ci’s air of indifference and antiquity gave the impression of a handsome young man stepping out of an ink painting when he stood there quietly.

The bell rang, and Mu Ci stood at the door of the small classroom, instinctively reaching for a rubber band to tie up their long hair.

But as soon as his slender fingertips brushed his short hair, he suddenly snapped back to reality. He had, after all, cut off his long hair some time ago.

Mu Ci let out a relieved sigh, clapped his hands, and in a gentle and composed manner, said, “Alright, it’s time for class.” The group of energetic seven and eight-year-old children entered the small classroom noisily.

This was a private calligraphy hobby class. Without an ID card, it had been challenging to find this job. Mu Ci considered himself fortunate that he had been skilled in writing since childhood; otherwise, he might have struggled to make ends meet.

He had been working here as a teacher for two weeks, and during that time, everything had been uneventful. Mu Ci’s heart started to relax, and he was looking forward to the salary he would receive mid-month.

It might not be much money, and others might scoff at it, but Mu Ci felt a sense of excitement. This was the first time in this world that he was earning a living based on his own skills.

While the children diligently practiced calligraphy at their small tables, Mu Ci sat at the podium, chin resting on a white wrist, lost in thought.

This individual’s attractiveness was undeniable from any perspective. His slightly drooping, long eyelashes glistened, capturing the sunlight like gold. Beneath, rested a pair of light brown eyes, appearing lighter. His fair skin, almost devoid of masculinity, was akin to a work of art.

Soon, a middle-aged woman with wavy permed hair entered, breaking the picturesque scene. She sported a slightly plump figure adorned in a black skirt and held a piece of watermelon in her hand. Waving at Mu Ci, she exclaimed, “Teacher Mu, someone’s looking for you.”

Mu Ci raised his head, snapping back to reality, albeit a bit dazed. “Who’s looking for me?” he inquired.

“A parent mentioned that their child wants to learn calligraphy and would like to speak with Teacher Mu,” the woman replied after savoring the last bite of her juicy melon. “He’s waiting for you in the small living room.”

Mu Ci stood and left the classroom without hesitation. As he passed by the woman, she cast a sly wink and said, “That man seems quite rich. You should accept him and I will give you a bonus in the middle of the year.”

Mu Ci smiled faintly and replied, “Okay.”

He traversed the grape trellis in the courtyard and entered the small living room. Freshly cut watermelon adorned the room, but there was no sign of the visitor. The only sounds were the chirping of summer cicadas outside the window.

Mu Ci felt a strange sensation creeping over him, and as he took a step further into the room, he heard a distinct “click” as the door locked behind him.

Mu Ci swiftly turned to see a tall, young man standing at the door, emanating a frigid and ruthless aura. It was as if his entire being was cloaked in invisible frost, and he had just withdrawn his hand after locking the door.

Mu Ci’s expression underwent an abrupt transformation, and he instinctively took a step backward. His legs nearly stumbled over a nearby coffee table, almost causing him to lose his balance.

“You… You…” Mu Ci’s throat felt constricted, making it difficult to speak. His chest heaved with tumultuous emotions, whether anger or fear was unclear. Yet his gaze remained fixed on the man’s handsome but commanding visage, as if this individual were a beast ready to strike if he displayed vulnerability.

The man nonchalantly adjusted his tie, slung his well-tailored black suit over his arm, and advanced steadily toward Mu Ci.

His slightly piercing eyes arched, and his brows added to his cold, handsome demeanor. Leaning in closer, he declared, “One month and five days.”

“You asked me to look for you for one month and five days.”

An icy tension enveloped the room. Mu Ci silently grasped the fruit knife behind his back, still stained with faint traces of the watermelon’s reddish juice.

Mu Ci inhaled deeply, determined to regain his composure as he locked eyes with the man before him. “Gu Huai, you’ve left me with no alternative. If I don’t escape, you’ll eventually torment me to death.”

Gu Huai’s lips curled into a smile, the sun’s rays piercing through the window and casting an unsettling cruelty on his angular face.

Truth be told, Gu Huai was strikingly handsome and possessed an upright, slender figure that would lead anyone to view him as an exceptional man. But if Mu Ci had to encapsulate his perception, he’d liken Gu Huai to a phrase he’d recently come across: a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Indeed, Gu Huai’s smile quickly faded, unveiling his true intentions as he forcefully pressed Mu Ci’s slender shoulders. Simultaneously, Mu Ci raised his hand, exhibiting the swiftness of a skilled swordsman, and deftly aimed a stab at Gu Huai’s abdomen with the fruit knife.

However, Gu Huai, well-acquainted with Mu Ci’s tactics, was thoroughly prepared. He promptly seized Mu Ci’s wrist with a combination of quick reflexes and dexterity.

Indeed, when it came to physical strength, Mu Ci was hopelessly overpowered by Gu Huai.

“Did he really use a knife on me?” Gu Huai’s emotions took a dark and sinister turn, brimming with bitterness. His desire to humiliate, destroy, and make Mu Ci cry or even collapse had never been stronger or more crystal clear than at that very moment.

Gu Huai’s eyes radiated pure ruthlessness, as if he were exacting long-awaited revenge. He applied force to Mu Ci’s hand, causing a sharp snap as Mu Ci’s wrist was instantly dislocated. The fruit knife slipped from his grasp, falling weakly to the floor, and Gu Huai coldly kicked it aside.

Mu Ci let out a soft cry of pain, his body growing limp as his resistance waned.

The sound was barely audible, softer than a cat’s meow. Gu Huai peered down, observing the slight perspiration forming on Mu Ci’s forehead, dampening his soft temples. Despite the pain, Mu Ci clenched his lips tightly, determined not to utter a moan.

Gu Huai embraced him, carefully resetting his dislocated wrist. Their foreheads touched, and his voice took on a gentler tone. “Why must you always fight with me? Can’t we find a way to settle down and talk? I want to understand you. Why won’t you even give me a chance and keep running away?”

Mu Ci endured the pain and sneered, “Now, why continue with the hypocrisy? Gu Huai, stop daydreaming. I’ve made it clear from the start that there’s no possibility for us in this lifetime… Ugh!”

This sentence somehow provoked Gu Huai, and he forcefully pushed Mu Ci onto the sofa, climbed on top of them, and seized their arm, planting a kiss on their chin.

The kiss was fierce, tough and rough, with the domineering aura of the man. Mu Ci felt that all his breath was taken away in an instant, and his eyes went black for a while, but then blurred spots of light burst out.

His slender chin was held by the pincer-like fingers, which hurt like pinpricks. Mu Ci’s heart fell bit by bit into silt-like despair.

During the fierce struggle, Mu Ci’s newly connected wrist bone suffered another setback. The clear sound of joint dislocation and Mu Ci’s painful groan rang in his ears. Gu Huai paused for a moment, and finally reluctantly let go of him, holding Mu Ci in his arms and his red wrists for him.

Mu Ci’s eyes were red from the pain, he pursed his lips tightly, and turned his head away coldly.

“Your appearance is truly unbecoming,” Mu Ci remarked, gazing expressionlessly at the grape trellis outside the window. “With your status and a group of admirers, why bother to hold on us when it’s uncomfortable for both of us?”

Gu Huai remained silent, his attention dedicated to soothing Mu Ci’s wrist, as if the pain and harm Mu Ci had suffered were nonexistent.

What vexed Mu Ci the most was Gu Huai’s demeanor. He was unmistakably the perpetrator of violence, yet he always masqueraded as affectionate and benevolent. Mu Ci’s heart simmered with resentment, and just as he was on the brink of erupting, he felt a tender warmth on the joint of his ring finger.

Lowering his head in astonishment, he saw Gu Huai gently kissing his hand. “I miss you so much,” Gu Huai murmured.

This man, who always strong and ruthless, was now half-kneeling before him, bestowing a delicate kiss on the hand that should have been adorned with an engagement ring.

Gu Huai’s voice was profound and sweet, “I miss you so much, Mu Ci.”