Hello, Mr. Shen - Chapter 1

Pain exploded in my belly, as though a knife were twisting viciously inside me.

Curled on the expensive Persian rug in the Shen villa, I clutched my stomach with both hands. It did nothing to stop the kicks raining down on me.

“You bitch! This is all your fault!” Shen Zhao’s drunken voice came from above, followed by another searing burst of pain.

Blood poured out beneath me, staining the pale carpet red. I could feel my life slipping away, together with the tiny life I had carried for only three months.

“If you hadn’t colluded with others to pass yourself off as a woman with blessed fertility, my father wouldn’t have forced me to marry an old woman like you! Su Ruoheng wouldn’t have married the wrong man and been beaten to death!”

His voice was twisted with hatred.

My vision blurred. My awareness began to fade.

So that was it. He had hated me all along.

For seven generations, the Shen family had produced only one son per generation. Sickly since childhood, Shen Zhao had little chance of fathering a child.

The family had searched everywhere for a woman who could conceive easily, until they found me—the woman doctors described as naturally endowed with blessed fertility.

They paid an enormous bride price to secure our marriage. After marrying me, Shen Zhao’s health really had improved, and I had become pregnant without difficulty.

His father, Shen Nanlang, was overjoyed. He had even promised to give me ten percent of the company’s shares.

Yet somehow, in Shen Zhao’s eyes, all of that made me guilty.

I opened my mouth, trying to speak, but only blood came out.

Darkness surged over me. With my last shred of consciousness, I swore that if there were another life—

“Manman? Manman! Mr. Shen is here. Why are you still sitting there staring?”

My mother’s voice dragged me out of the darkness.

I snapped my eyes open. I was sitting in our living room, a cup of steaming tea before me. Bright sunlight streamed through the window onto my uninjured body.

Was this…a year ago?

“Mr. Shen has come to propose a marriage between you and his son, Shen Zhao,” my mother reminded me quietly, her eyes shining with excitement. “The Shens! They’re truly wealthy!”

My heart hammered. My fingers drifted to my flat stomach.

I had come back. I really had come back to life!

Back to the day Shen Nanlang first came to ask for my hand for his son.

I looked up toward the doorway. A tall, straight-backed, middle-aged man was walking in.

Shen Nanlang was forty-five, but he had taken excellent care of himself. Every movement carried the appeal of a mature man. He wore an impeccably tailored charcoal suit; his features were sharply defined, his gaze keen without being unkind.

“Miss Jiang. I’ve heard a great deal about you.” He nodded, his voice low and pleasant.

In my previous life, I had lowered my head shyly and accepted the arrangement to marry Shen Zhao with a heart full of joy.

Now I looked straight at this titan of business and broke into a radiant smile.

“Please, sit down, Mr. Shen.” I gestured gracefully, waited for him to take his seat, then met his eyes. “I understand your son is unwell, and the Shen family urgently needs an heir?”

His brow creased. Clearly, he hadn’t expected such bluntness. “My son does indeed…need a wife blessed with good fortune.”

I laughed softly and sipped my tea. “Mr. Shen, instead of pinning all your hopes for the family line on that sickly son of yours…”

I paused deliberately, holding his gaze.

“Why don’t I marry you and give you several more sons?”

My mother’s teapot hit the floor with a clatter.

Shen Nanlang went still. Shock and disbelief flashed through his eyes, followed by deep consideration.

I kept smiling. I knew my suggestion had landed like a bomb in the mind of this patriarch, with his deeply entrenched traditional values.

My memories told me he had remained unmarried for years after his wife’s death, not because he lacked desire, but to preserve the family’s image.

Now I could see a fire beginning to kindle in his eyes: longing for children, yearning for young life, and…temptation at my audacious proposal.

“Miss Jiang, are you serious?” His voice had grown a little rough.

“I’m twenty-eight, healthy, and the doctors say I have a rare ability to conceive easily,” I said frankly. “Instead of marrying a sickly man who may never be able to father a child, why shouldn’t I become your wife and give you healthy heirs?”

His eyes lit up. He studied me closely, as though assessing a precious addition to his collection.

I knew I had won.

In my previous life, a doctor had said my constitution did more than make conception easy. It also nourished my partner, better than any tonic.

For Shen Nanlang, who longed for children while his own health was beginning to decline, that was an almost irresistible temptation.