Chapter 39: Wen Zhixia: "Break down the door!"

The driver’s face turned pale, but the other side had numbers on their side, while only he and Wen Zhixia were in the car; they were no match at all. Wen Zhixia glanced at the time, calculating when the traffic police would arrive. Though she didn’t have much cash on hand, she clutched her wallet and bargained with them, knowing that every minute she could delay was worth it; it was better than waiting helplessly for fate.

She took all the cash from her wallet and, as the thugs raised their steel pipes again, scattered some of it through the shattered car window. The scarlet bills fluttered onto the ground, and as expected, the thugs stopped in their tracks.

Wen Zhixia did not get out. Since the windows were already broken, there was no need to lower them for negotiation. “I only have a few thousand yuan in cash. For the hundred thousand you want, I can transfer the money. But how do I know you’ll leave once you have it, instead of demanding even more?”

The three exchanged glances and told her to get out.

The driver broke out in cold sweat. “Ma’am, you can't go down. These people aren't to be trifled with. Who knows what they'll do?” Wen Zhixia was well aware of this, but if she couldn’t keep them calm for now, their situation would only worsen.

In the end, Wen Zhixia pushed open the car door and stepped out. Seeing this, the driver had no choice but to follow.

“I can give you the money. As for the cause of the accident, I won’t press charges, but I don’t want any further conflict between us,” Wen Zhixia said in a steady voice.

The three thugs looked at her, impressed by her composure. “You’re pretty sensible.”

“Money is nothing compared to life. I’ll give you the full hundred thousand. With such a big commotion here, the traffic police will arrive soon. I imagine you don’t want to waste time. As long as you promise not to hurt anyone, I’ll transfer the money right now,” Wen Zhixia said.

The three exchanged another glance. “Three hundred thousand.”

Their demand had suddenly tripled. The driver glared at them. “You’re extorting us!”

The thugs’ faces darkened, and one raised a steel pipe to strike the driver.

“Stop!” Wen Zhixia shouted. “Three hundred thousand, I’ll give it!”

“That’s more like it,” one of them said, slapping the driver’s face. “You’d better behave.”

Wen Zhixia took a deep breath, maintaining her calm expression. “Three hundred thousand is the limit. I can’t pay a cent more. I hope you keep your word. If you’re after money, there’s no need for unnecessary bloodshed, is there?”

“Enough talking. Transfer the money now.” The longer things dragged, the more anxious they became.

Wen Zhixia was deliberately stalling, hoping to make them more nervous than she was. Only then could she better ensure her own and the driver’s safety, preventing them from turning violent after taking the money.

Once the transfer was complete, the sound of police sirens grew closer.

Having received the money, the three thugs exchanged glances, looked at the expensive Bugatti, then at Wen Zhixia, tempted by other ideas.

Wen Zhixia stepped back, one foot inside the car, her voice low and steady. “The police will be here in two minutes. I advise you not to entertain any further thoughts. After all, even if you have the money, you need freedom to spend it.”

With a bang, the three slammed the car doors and fled. Only when the police car appeared at the intersection did Wen Zhixia’s taut nerves finally relax. Leaning against the car, clutching her waist, her face twisted with pain.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” The driver helped her into the car.

Wen Zhixia steadied her breathing, speaking after a few seconds. “I’m fine, just some pain at the incision.”

The violent collision had torn at her post-surgery wound. The tension and sudden relaxation now intensified the pain.

The car was so badly damaged that they had to call for a tow. Both were taken to the police station to give statements.

Wen Zhixia handed the photos she’d taken of the three thugs and their license plate to the police. She couldn’t be sure if the plate was genuine, as the men wore masks, revealing only their figures and outlines. She said, “...This was a premeditated extortion. They’re probably repeat offenders.”

Despite the severity of the incident—her car smashed beyond recognition—she had managed to take photos, call for help, and stabilize the thugs, weighing risks and benefits to get out safely. The officer taking her statement couldn’t help but glance at her a few more times.

Not even most men could have remained as calm.

By the time they finished, it was nearly midnight.

“Ma’am, should I call Mr. Gu to report what happened?” The driver watched Wen Zhixia drinking water in the station’s armchair, speaking softly.

What had happened tonight had left even him, a grown man, shaken. Seeing Wen Zhixia’s pale face, he felt a pang of sympathy.

Wen Zhixia nodded silently. Her earlier drowsiness was gone, replaced by exhaustion.

The call didn’t go through; no one answered.

The driver offered an excuse. “...Maybe Mr. Gu is still busy.”

Wen Zhixia said nothing, standing to leave.

The driver hailed a car, opened the back door for her, and took the front passenger seat, escorting her home.

Throughout the ride, Wen Zhixia said not a word. The driver watched her face in the rearview mirror, wanting to speak, but unable to find the words.

Upon reaching Lanhu Manor, Wen Zhixia told him not to get out. “Just take the car home. It’s hard to hail a taxi here; it’s only a short walk for me.”

The driver did not insist.

After the taxi left, Wen Zhixia went upstairs, reached out to unlock the door with her fingerprint, but failed. She tried twice with the same result.

Looking down at her hand, she remembered that when the car window shattered, her hand was injured. At the station, a kind policewoman had wrapped it for her.

With her fingers bandaged, unlocking was impossible.

It was early morning; home was right in front of her, yet she couldn’t enter.

Wen Zhixia sat on the ground, calling Gu Pingsheng. She thought, if he was still busy at this hour, she would simply go to him.

When the call connected, the first voice she heard was not Gu Pingsheng’s, but that of a woman: “Senior, the doctor just...”

The sentence was abruptly cut off, but Wen Zhixia had heard enough.

A CEO who needed to take a taxi to the office late at night—surely he must be very busy.

Gu Pingsheng turned, his gaze cold as he looked at the suddenly speaking Zhao Fuhe.

Wen Zhixia said nothing, hung up, and called a locksmith. It was so late that he hesitated, not wanting to come. “I’ll pay triple the rate,” she said.

The locksmith hesitated, then asked for her exact location.

Twenty minutes later, he arrived.

Wen Zhixia’s legs had gone numb from sitting on the ground. When the locksmith arrived, she stood up, but moved too quickly, causing a brief dizziness.

The locksmith examined the fingerprint lock. “This is the latest model; it’s a hassle to open. At least it’ll take—”

“Just smash it.”

He was startled, wondering if he’d misheard. “Smash it?”

The lock was expensive, and she was paying triple just to have him break the door?

“Is this really your house?”

He knew it was a redundant question; if it wasn’t, she wouldn’t have gotten into the complex. In all his years, he’d never had such a job.

“Break open the door, take your money, and leave. Hurry up,” Wen Zhixia pressed her temples, showing rare impatience for someone usually so gentle.

After confirming once more, the locksmith followed her orders and broke the lock with force.

It wasn’t any easier than picking it, taking a full quarter hour.

Wen Zhixia wasn’t sure what she was thinking as her phone kept vibrating; she had no desire to answer, letting it ring while the clanging of the locksmith’s tools brought her a small measure of relief.

When the door was opened, she paid, kicked off her shoes, and sat barefoot in the living room.

Before leaving, the locksmith hesitated, kindly asking, “...Don’t you need me to replace the lock?”

Though this was a famous upscale neighborhood with top security, leaving the door open posed a risk for a woman alone.

Wen Zhixia shook her head. “You can go. I just want some peace.”

The locksmith didn’t press further.

Once the house fell silent again, Wen Zhixia gathered her long hair in her palm, gazing at the open door. Her heart felt as if stuffed with cotton.

She hadn’t felt so stifled, not even facing three thugs.

He wasn’t coming back; why should she stay?

When her phone vibrated again, Wen Zhixia’s irritation peaked. She flung it into the corner, grabbed her bag, put on her shoes, and left Lanhu Manor.

She didn’t want to stay any longer. If he wouldn’t come home, she didn’t care to wait.

Late at night, a beautiful woman checked into a hotel, her fingers wrapped in bandages, carrying only a handbag and no luggage. The receptionist glanced at her repeatedly while processing the check-in.

“May I see your ID? Please look at the camera for a live photo...”

Wen Zhixia complied, her expression unchanged.

“...Here’s your room card. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Wen Zhixia thanked her, tipped a hundred yuan, and asked the staff to buy her a set of clothes and deliver them.

Having smashed her phone for peace, Gu Pingsheng, unable to reach her, gripped his phone tightly and strode out of the hospital.

At that hour, it was hard to get a taxi. He didn’t return to Lanhu Manor until two or three in the morning.

Seeing the forced-open fingerprint lock and the gaping door, Gu Pingsheng’s mind buzzed, his eyes tightening.

“Xiaxia?”

“Wen Zhixia!”

No answer. He called again, hearing the phone vibrate inside the house. Joy flickered on his face as he hurried to the bedroom.

The lights were off; the bed untouched, the sheets perfectly neat—no sign anyone had been there.

Dialing again, Gu Pingsheng followed the sound and found the phone in the corner.

He bent to pick it up, gripping it firmly.

Back home, the driver lay restless in bed, unable to sleep after the night’s events.

“What’s wrong with you? Jumping around like that?” His wife grumbled, awakened.

“I just can’t settle down. Do you think something might happen?” he replied, turning over.

His wife told him not to worry. “What could happen? Those robbers won’t come to our house.”

“It’s not that. I just feel like the madam...”

Before he could finish, Gu Pingsheng called, asking immediately, “Where is Xiaxia?”

The driver sat up, turning on the lamp. “Madam... she already returned to Lanhu Manor, didn’t she?”

Gu Pingsheng’s voice was grim. “Her phone is here, and the fingerprint lock was smashed from outside.”

The driver froze, instantly imagining the worst. “Could it be... those thugs found her? How could that happen? They wouldn’t dare, not after taking the money and us giving statements at the station...”

He muttered through his analysis, unaware of the storm raging in Gu Pingsheng’s heart. “What thugs? What happened tonight?!”

The driver recounted the entire incident.

Gu Pingsheng clenched his fists, his voice rising. “Why didn’t you tell me about something so serious?!”

The driver paused. “...After giving our statements at the station, I called you, but no one answered.”

There was a moment of silence before Gu Pingsheng hung up.

He braced himself, kicked over the chair in front of him, and after a few seconds of composure, immediately pulled up the home security footage.

After confirming several times that Wen Zhixia had left the house on her own, his heart finally steadied.

At least she hadn’t encountered danger.

But so late—where could she have gone?

Almost instantly, Gu Pingsheng thought of Hua Qianjiao, but quickly dismissed it. Given her character, she wouldn’t disturb the Hua family at this hour.

After much deliberation, “...Lanzhou, I need a favor...”

In the hotel, Wen Zhixia had showered and was sitting on the sofa in her suite, gently drying her hair.

“Ding dong—”

“Ding dong—”

She peered through the peephole and opened the door.

“Miss Wen, your clothes,” said the staff member who’d bought them for her.

Wen Zhixia, hair still damp, took the shopping bag and thanked her.

With the door closed, Wen Zhixia fell into a light sleep just as dawn approached.

Yet her sleep was restless, haunted by nightmares—the events of the night still weighing heavily on her.

Near noon, the front desk called to ask if it was convenient to deliver lunch.

As for breakfast, Wen Zhixia had cancelled it.

Pressing her brow, she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. Since leaving the Chang’an Club yesterday and exhausting herself, she hadn’t eaten anything. Now, with her stomach empty, the pain had begun.

“Send it up,” she said, rising to wash and prepare for her meal.

The server arrived quickly. Wen Zhixia washed her face, lazily pulled her hair up, and opened the door.

“Miss Wen, your lunch. May I wheel it inside?”

As Wen Zhixia opened the door to let her in, she caught sight of a tall, sharp figure.

It was Gu Pingsheng.

Wen Zhixia took the cart, met his gaze, and then tried to close the door behind her, but Gu Pingsheng pressed it open. “Xiaxia.”

She tried with all her strength but couldn’t shut it; men naturally had the advantage.

The server glanced between them and the cart, unsure whether to leave or stay.

Gu Pingsheng pressed the door, his brows furrowed, his eyes dark. “I can explain what happened yesterday.”

Wen Zhixia lowered her head in a faint smile, but there was no warmth in her eyes—only coldness. “I just want to have a peaceful lunch. Don’t spoil my appetite.”

Gu Pingsheng didn’t let go. “I’ll eat with you.”

He hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and after learning she’d checked into this hotel, he’d waited downstairs for hours. Only when she ordered lunch, confirming she was awake, did he come up.

Wen Zhixia’s smile twisted into a sneer, her cool voice tinged with mockery. “If you have time, you’d be better off accompanying your junior. I’m hardly worth your trouble.”

Wasn’t he too busy to even come home with her? There was no need now.

Gu Pingsheng stepped forward, intending to enter. But he forgot that Wen Zhixia, though usually accommodating, still had a temper. As he was about to step inside, she kicked him sharply in the groin.

He reflexively stepped back, and she slammed the door shut.

The server touched her nose, deciding it was best to leave.

Gu Pingsheng steadied himself, standing before the door, and knocked.

Wen Zhixia sat at the table, annoyed by the persistent knocking and ringing.

“Hello, front desk? Please send someone up. There’s a man at my door offering ‘special services.’ If you don’t remove him, I’ll call the police,” Wen Zhixia said, picking up the room phone.

The receptionist was stunned. “A gigolo?”

This was a five-star hotel, not some rural inn. Even if there were gigolos, they wouldn’t dare solicit here.

“...I’ll contact staff right away. We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.”