Chapter 45: You Carry the Same Scent as Her

After the last incident, Wen Zhixia never imagined they would appear before her again.

She never asked how Gu Pingsheng dealt with it in the end; even bonds as deep as blood can vanish after repeated disappointments.

When they schemed against her, treating her as merchandise to be exchanged for money, she severed ties with them in her heart.

Wen Zhixia’s gaze swept across her face, then calmly shifted away. “The Wen family’s cost of raising me—I’ve paid it back many times over. From now on, there’s no need for us to meet again.”

Not every man and woman who bring a child into the world are worthy of the title “parents.”

Seeing her prepare to leave, Wen’s mother reached out and gripped her arm tightly, staring straight at her. “Let’s find somewhere to sit and talk.”

Wen Zhixia looked back at her with quiet resolve. Wen’s mother showed no sign of letting go, and Wen Zhixia was not the sort to quarrel about family matters in public.

The two of them sat down in a nearby café.

The atmosphere was elegant, soft music flowing around them, but Wen Zhixia’s mood was anything but good.

“…I know you don’t want to see me or your father, but we truly have nowhere left to turn. Neither of us have jobs, and though Gu Pingsheng paid off part of the gambling debts, we have no income…” Wen’s mother spoke through tears and sniffles about her difficulties, but Wen Zhixia felt no sympathy, no sorrow.

“The house you live in could be sold in an emergency; two million would be no problem. Enough for you to downsize and retire comfortably.”

In truth, they simply wanted to maintain their lavish spending, unwilling to let go of their golden goose.

As expected, when the house was mentioned, Wen’s mother’s expression changed. “How could we sell the house! I mean…with the house, whenever you and Wen Lechuan come back, you’d have a home. And now you’re the wife of a major corporation’s CEO; how could your family live in a small house? It would be a laughingstock. Don’t you agree?”

“I won’t be coming back,” Wen Zhixia replied coolly.

Wen’s mother: “What do you mean? Are you really angry with your own parents? If we weren’t forced to...”

“Being desperate justifies repeatedly selling your own daughter?!” Wen Zhixia’s voice rose, then quickly calmed. “Enough. I don’t want to discuss these matters anymore. If you’re here to ask for money, let me be clear: I won’t give you another cent. You’ve sold your affection by the pound and ounce, and I’ve bought all there was over the years.”

Seeing her unmoved by both threats and pleas, Wen’s mother grew angry. “How did I raise such a heartless daughter! You had your husband cut off your father’s finger, drove away your own brother—these are your deeds! I should never have given birth to you!”

Wen Zhixia had no idea about the accusations; Wen Lechuan had said nothing. Hearing it suddenly, she paused, then realized this was Gu Pingsheng’s doing.

“Apparently, cold-bloodedness is hereditary,” she said, stirring her coffee cup, her tone indifferent.

Otherwise, how could she feel not the slightest pang upon hearing her father had lost a finger?

“Fine, fine, fine, fine—what a good daughter I raised!” Wen’s mother spat out the word “fine” four times, then, in her fury, splashed water over Wen Zhixia. “There will come a day when you beg us!”

Such were her kin, treating her worse than enemies.

Wen Zhixia’s slender fingers touched the coffee cup. If it had been anyone else, she would have returned the gesture in kind. But, unfortunately, the woman before her was her mother; she could be firm with words, but would never engage in physical conflict.

Because she was her mother.

Wen’s mother rose, shoving her chair over with a loud crash, then departed.

The staff, hearing the commotion, looked over. Noticing the water stains on Wen Zhixia, they handed her tissues. “Is there anything we can help you with?”

Wen Zhixia shook her head. “No, thank you. Where is the restroom?”

The staff pointed. “Straight ahead, then left at the end.”

Wen Zhixia thanked them, but after only a few steps, she ran into Wang Haiqiong—an encounter as fated as a narrow road.

Or, to be precise, Wang Haiqiong deliberately walked toward her, arm in arm with a middle-aged man whose hair was slicked to one side. Though not overweight, his average build and forced attempt at stylishness rendered him unctuous.

“Xuancheng, this is the young Ms. Wen I mentioned—no, now she’s Mrs. Gu—Wen Zhixia. Mrs. Gu is living the life most women envy: no career, no need to earn, just staying home and pleasing her husband, and she has everything,” Wang Haiqiong introduced, her words laced with meaning.

Wen Zhixia acted as if she hadn’t heard the sarcasm, her gaze cool and expressionless.

“This is Zheng Xuancheng, the youngest board member of Linxi Group,” Wang Haiqiong introduced the man beside her.

Wen Zhixia had never dealt with Linxi Group, but had heard of it.

Zheng Xuancheng, looking at her striking face, extended his hand. “So you’re Ms. Wen. Meeting you is better than any rumor.”

His gaze made Wen Zhixia uncomfortable; she shook his hand with distant politeness.

After she withdrew her hand, Zheng Xuancheng rubbed his fingers. “Have we met somewhere before, Ms. Wen?”

His casual comment drew a hint of hostility from Wang Haiqiong, as if she resented Wen Zhixia for attracting the man she herself wanted.

“Director Zheng must be mistaken. We have not met,” Wen Zhixia replied, dismissing his words. “Excuse me, I have something to do.”

They happened to block her path.

As she headed to the restroom, Zheng Xuancheng watched her retreating figure.

“So attractive? Your eyes are practically glued to her,” Wang Haiqiong teased, punching him in the chest—not so much angry as flirtatious.

Zheng Xuancheng clearly enjoyed it, taking her hand and kissing it. “No one’s as beautiful as you, especially in bed. You’re the wildest I’ve ever seen.”

“Naughty~”

“How much do you know about Wen Zhixia?” Zheng Xuancheng steered the conversation back to her after they sat down.

Wang Haiqiong appeared annoyed. “I advise you not to have any ideas. She’s legally Gu Pingsheng’s wife.”

Even if Gu Pingsheng kept a mistress, it didn’t mean he would tolerate another man coveting his wife.

At Father Hua’s birthday banquet, Wang Haiqiong had already proved this point in practice.

“Oh, come on. I have you—why would I be interested in anyone else? She just seemed a bit familiar. Who was that older woman with her?”

If he hadn’t seen it himself, Zheng Xuancheng wouldn’t have connected the two.

Wang Haiqiong replied carelessly, “I think it’s her vampire mother.”

She had heard this by chance; when Wen Zhixia was still at Gu Xia Group, that woman had once caused trouble.

Zheng Xuancheng’s eyes darted quickly, as if recalling something but not yet certain. “Seems the relationship between Wen Zhixia and her mother isn’t harmonious.”

Wang Haiqiong did not respond. “From the moment we sat down, you keep mentioning Wen Zhixia. Do you really fancy her?”

Zheng Xuancheng moved to her side, pulling her into his arms and kissing her. “You always overthink. With you, why would I want anyone else? I’ll go to the restroom, then take you shopping.”

Wang Haiqiong grabbed his arm to stop him. “Shopping is pointless. If you truly like me, help me get that loan approved at the bank. You’ve delayed it for a week.”

When it comes to interests, no matter how well things go in bed, without a signed contract, nothing counts.

Zheng Xuancheng patted her hand, gently pushing it away. “Don’t worry. I’ve kept your matter in mind. We’ll talk again after I get back.”

Wang Haiqiong stared after him, clenching her fist. “Old fool—wants all the pleasure without paying a price. Things aren’t that easy.”

Her bed was not so freely given.

“I knew we’d met somewhere before.”

As Wen Zhixia exited the restroom, she found Zheng Xuancheng approaching. He spoke.

Wen Zhixia lifted her gaze, sweeping it over him, not intending to converse.

“Nine years ago—Warsaw underground casino. Do you recall what happened?” Zheng Xuancheng suddenly asked as Wen Zhixia was about to leave.

Nine years ago. Warsaw underground casino…

Those words struck Wen Zhixia like a curse, freezing her in place.

“Funny thing, nine years ago I heard Warsaw had received a batch of new goods. Out of curiosity, I went with some friends. That batch was worth delaying an important meeting—among them, a girl in a white dress, lips red, teeth white, a bud waiting for a man to pick. Just a little nurturing, and she’d bloom into something that makes your heart tremble.”

The best goods, clean as crystal, always attract attention.

Even now, recalling it brings a shiver and tension.

Wen Zhixia remained silent.

Zheng Xuancheng didn’t require a response, standing before her with a look of reminiscence and obsession. “Even after all these years, whenever I think of it, it’s like I can still smell her fragrance…”

His attention was fixed on Wen Zhixia, facing her cold beauty. “And you have the same scent.”

He’d searched for that scent for years.

He tried to touch her hair, but Wen Zhixia dodged.

Zheng Xuancheng flashed yellowed teeth. “If Gu Pingsheng ever learns his wife was once a hostess, I wonder how he’d react?”

Wen Zhixia’s half-lowered eyes darkened.

“Director Zheng, you can eat your fill, but words must be weighed. I could sue you for slander.”

Zheng Xuancheng seemed utterly unfazed, confident. “Then, when the story breaks, everyone will know about Ms. Wen.”

No one is indifferent to their reputation, especially a woman dependent on a man for her privileged life. That’s why Zheng Xuancheng dared to approach—he believed Wen Zhixia would never risk losing her comfortable existence by exposing the matter.

He’d gotten a partial answer from Wang Haiqiong, and so assumed she was nothing more than a decorative vase.

Wen Zhixia was silent, eyes lowered, standing with an air of vulnerability that only fueled Zheng Xuancheng’s desires. He pulled out a hotel business card. “I’ll wait for you here tomorrow.”

She didn’t take it, so he boldly placed it in her purse, then lifted her hair, inhaling deeply. “I spent so much money on you that night, but it all came to nothing. Now…don’t let me down.”

Whether it was her beauty or her status as CEO’s wife, a night with such a woman would be enough to stir his blood.

“How can I be sure, if I show up, Director Zheng won’t keep using this as leverage against me?” Wen Zhixia asked in clear, elegant tones.

Her words hinted at resignation. Zheng Xuancheng smiled, “Don’t worry. I do have some integrity.”

Integrity?

Wen Zhixia thought this must be the year’s biggest joke. A man like him, talking of integrity?

Perfectly ridiculous.

“Then I’ll wait for you tomorrow,” she said.

Seeing her so sensible, Zheng Xuancheng seemed very pleased. “That’s right. I wouldn’t mistreat you.”

When Wen Zhixia left the café, her gaze darkened as she glanced back, then left in her car.

Inside, the kitten she’d placed there earlier was waiting patiently on the passenger seat. As soon as she entered, it meowed and crawled into her lap.

Wen Zhixia soothed it, stroking its fur, gazing out the window, lost in thought. After a few seconds, she drove away.

Some events, from the moment they happen, sow the seeds for what follows.

Returning home, she arranged the kitten’s new bed, then immersed herself entirely in the bathtub. The suffocating sensation rushed over her, and memories she thought forgotten began to flash by.

Back to nine years ago.

Her parents, who hadn’t bought her new clothes in ages, prepared a pristine white dress—clean, simple, beautiful—urging her to change quickly, saying they’d take her somewhere to relax, that she shouldn’t stay home reading all the time.

She was both surprised and expectant, insisting, “Let’s wait for my brother, so we can all go together.”

But her parents said the surprise was just for her, only she could go.

A naive girl, always yielding to affection, to kinship, unaware of the darkness in human nature.

Magnified selfishness can render people no better than untamed beasts.

She was displayed like an exhibit, subjected to the scrutiny of men old enough to be her uncle, father, or even grandfather—placed on a counter, available for selection.

They assessed her appearance, her figure, and whether she was as pure as her white dress.

Wen Zhixia wore the clean white dress, but felt utterly exposed, without shelter.

Her fear, confusion, and innocence made her seem even cleaner, even more tempting to those with certain proclivities, stirring their urge to destroy.

What could be more thrilling than crushing innocence and fragility?

Her suffering was merely the prelude to their revelry.

The lights flickered on in the room. Gu Pingsheng immediately noticed the carefully arranged kitten’s bed, but not Wen Zhixia herself.

“Summer?”

He found the bedroom, saw the bathroom door closed but heard no water. He called her name twice, but got no reply.

Gu Pingsheng pushed the door open and saw Wen Zhixia lying silently by the bathtub with her eyes closed. His breath stopped, pupils contracting sharply as he rushed forward.

Realizing she was merely asleep in the bath, his expression slowly returned to normal.

She lay quietly with eyes closed; the bathwater was already lukewarm.

Gu Pingsheng bent down, lifted her from the tub, and wrapped her in a towel.

He had seen countless sides of her over the years, but nothing had ever made his heart tremble like this moment.

Her hair was soaked, and she’d fallen asleep that way. He had warned her many times about moisture affecting her health, but every time she was exhausted, she paid no heed.

As he dried her hair, the whirring sound of the dryer roused her suddenly from sleep.

From her gaze, Gu Pingsheng saw a shattered confusion, but only for a fleeting instant—then she returned to normal, as if the previous look had been a mirage.

“Did you have a nightmare?” he asked.

Her head rested on his lap as he dried her hair; he only had to glance down to see her.

Wen Zhixia looked at him for several seconds, then sat up, pressing her cheek to his neck—there was warmth, lingering tenderness, and dependence.

Gu Pingsheng gently stroked her long hair. “Did something happen?”

She rarely showed such expressions; he couldn’t fail to notice.

But Wen Zhixia shook her head.

He tried to ask again, but she claimed she was hungry and wanted his porridge. Yet when Gu Pingsheng brought it, she had already fallen asleep, her brows and eyes full of exhaustion.

Gu Pingsheng watched her sleeping face, fingers lightly tracing her hair, his eyes deep as night.

“…See what Mrs. Gu did today, whom she met.”

On the balcony, Gu Pingsheng held a cigarette but didn’t light it.

He’d picked it up, but remembered she disliked the smell. If she caught it on him, she’d surely frown.

Chengya Residence.

Zhao Fuhe finished cooking, set candles on the table, checked the time, and dialed Gu Pingsheng’s number.