Miss saw Charles Clark hesitating, and quickly said, “My elder sister, such a beauty, is marrying you—it’s already a huge favor to you. If you keep hesitating, don’t blame me for getting angry.”

Charles Clark snorted coldly, his face full of disbelief.

Miss said, “You can rest assured, my sister is very gentle and virtuous.”

At this, Charles Clark thought to himself, “I’d better take her words the opposite way. If she says gentle and virtuous, she’s probably a shrew.”

Miss continued, “Besides that, her manners are very proper…”

Charles Clark kept thinking, “Oh no, maybe she even hits people.”

“Knowledgeable and reasonable…”

“Not knowing a single character could be forgiven, I suppose.”

“As beautiful as a flower…”

“Your sister! She must be hideous…”

Miss said a whole basketful of good things, and finally summed up with a sigh, “Such a wonderful sister—if it weren’t that Master Clark is at least a decent match for her, we wouldn’t let you have her so easily. Don’t worry, even though you’re a poor scholar, my father has said the Wen family will handle all the wedding arrangements. As long as you agree, you’ll be our Wen family’s son-in-law.”

Miss added one last sentence: “If you refuse, we’ll just have to beat you to death and feed you to the dogs.”

She was playing both good cop and bad cop all by herself, which was quite a feat, but her purpose was clear: this marriage—Charles Clark had no choice but to agree.

But Charles Clark was no naive youngster; how could he believe such nonsense? With a look of utter disdain, he declared, “I am a scholar…”

Miss immediately interrupted with a mocking remark, “A scholar who’s been stripped of his title.”

Charles Clark’s face darkened at once, but he continued, “Title or not, I’ve read the classics. I wouldn’t accept such riches even if they were handed to me for free. Don’t say another word—just send me back, and that’s that. If you insist on forcing me, then you might as well kill me. This marriage—I will never agree to it.”

A flash of murderous intent passed through Miss’s eyes, but after a moment’s hesitation, she softened again, and said sweetly, “You’re my future brother-in-law. If I killed you, how would I explain it to my sister? Think it over, don’t be so quick to refuse. How about this—let’s have a cup of tea first, and then talk, all right?”

Charles Clark’s mouth was dry, so he picked up the teacup by the table, blew away the tea foam, took a sip, and said, “I’ve had the tea—now I’m leaving.”

Miss saw Charles Clark drink the tea, and a hint of joy flashed in her eyes. She immediately put on a stern face and said, “You want to leave? It won’t be that easy.”

Charles Clark was truly angry now. He hadn’t even settled the score for being kidnapped, and now she wouldn’t let him go. He snapped, “What if I insist on leaving?”

Miss giggled and said, “I put poison in that tea. Leave if you want, but it’s a special poison—without the antidote, no one can save you.”

Charles Clark was startled at first, but quickly calmed down. As a doctor, he knew the symptoms of poisoning very well. After checking himself, he found nothing wrong—his breathing was steady, his body felt normal. He shouldn’t be poisoned. He glanced at the crafty Miss, thinking, This girl is full of tricks—maybe she’s just trying to scare me?

Charles Clark made up his mind and sneered inwardly, “Trying to scare me? I’ll scare you instead.”

“Oh—” Charles Clark suddenly clutched his stomach and cried out in pain, pointing at Miss, “You’re so vicious.” With that, he collapsed to the ground, holding his breath.

This sudden turn of events startled Miss. She walked over to Charles Clark, nudged his body with her foot, and said, “Hey, stop playing dead. I know you’re faking it—there’s no poison in the tea.”

Charles Clark still didn’t respond, not moving a muscle.

A look of doubt appeared on Miss’s face. She had no choice but to squat down and reach out her delicate hand to check Charles Clark’s breathing. She felt no warmth under his nostrils at all, and her face turned pale with fright. She muttered, “I… I really didn’t put any poison. Could the maid who served the tea have misunderstood me?”

Though this young lady was usually violent, she panicked when things got serious. Just then, Charles Clark suddenly opened his eyes, grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. Caught off guard, the squatting Miss lost her balance and toppled headfirst onto Charles Clark’s chest. Charles Clark wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled over, pinning Miss beneath him in an instant.

Charles Clark sneered, looking at the flustered Miss beneath him, and said coldly, “Little girl, let’s see if you dare bully people again.”

One was leaning over, the other lying on her back—their noses touched. Miss was so frightened she nearly fainted, her fair neck flushing red. To make matters worse, Charles Clark, to keep her from moving, pressed his chest hard against her soft bosom, making her even more ashamed and angry. She cried out, “I’ll call for help! Let me go, you scoundrel! I knew you weren’t a good person.”

Charles Clark thought to himself, Back on the street, I said I’d call for help too, and you just came at me with a stick. Now it’s your turn. The satisfaction of revenge made Charles Clark feel delighted. He said, “Go ahead—shout as loud as you can. Call everyone here.”