Chapter 49: She Was Unscathed—Someone Stepped Forward to Protect Her

Gu Pingsheng’s gaze paused slightly, his eyes deep and dark. “Have they caught the person?”

The implication in his words was clear: he had not been aware of what had happened.

“I thought you’d know, Mr. Gu,” Qian Hongdan replied, her tone meaningful.

“If I wanted something done, I would do it myself. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

Qian Hongdan hesitated for several seconds. “What… what do you intend to do?”

After all, Zheng Xuancheng was still her husband.

“To help you achieve your wishes as soon as possible,” Gu Pingsheng replied coldly, then raised his hand and pushed open the door to the intensive care unit.

Seeing this, Qian Hongdan instinctively reached out her hand but, realizing what she was doing, slowly drew it back. She gave a bitter laugh, watching as the door quietly closed in front of her.

Some things, in the end, require resolution.

Zheng Xuancheng refused to divorce, unwilling to relinquish everything within his grasp, or lose the Qian family as his solid backing. Yet at the same time, he couldn’t restrain his desires, always chasing after pleasure outside. How could anyone possibly have all the advantages to themselves?

Twice escaping death, Zheng Xuancheng could be considered extremely lucky, but it seemed that luck had been exhausted. Now, swathed in bandages, he lay on the hospital bed, nerves taut with tension, seeing suspicion in every person who entered, convinced they meant him harm.

Only when Qian Hongdan came in did his nerves relax for a brief moment. Perhaps, deep down, he believed his wife was the only one who would never harm him.

After all, Qian Hongdan had always helped and supported him, never holding back.

And yet, it was this woman, utterly devoted to him, whom he had personally pushed away, leading to his present fate. It could only be called karma, retribution that never fails.

“It’s you… what are you doing here? What do you want?” Zheng Xuancheng’s entire body shook with fear upon seeing Gu Pingsheng. Not only Qian Hongdan, but Zheng Xuancheng himself believed all this was orchestrated by Gu Pingsheng.

Who else would be so ruthless, so intent on his life?

Everything began the moment he recognized Wen Zhixia as the girl from the past, from the instant he sought to fulfill his long-held desire.

Had he known it would come to this, Zheng Xuancheng would never have provoked Wen Zhixia. Instead of gaining what he wanted, he brought trouble upon himself, forced to constantly look over his shoulder in terror.

“Hongdan! Hongdan, someone wants to kill me! Don’t come in, get out!” Zheng Xuancheng tried to escape, but his post-surgery body refused to cooperate. Layer upon layer of gauze bound him, and his legs were encased in thick casts; he could not move at all.

Outside, Qian Hongdan heard the commotion and glanced toward the door. Her figure, no longer graceful, folded into the chair, stomach showing rolls of flesh when she bent over. She looked down at her thighs, now twice their former size, closed her eyes, and let out a mocking laugh.

Inside, Gu Pingsheng picked up the fruit knife on the table. Its sharp blade, catching the light from the window, flashed with a blinding gleam.

Zheng Xuancheng desperately reached for the call button. Gu Pingsheng watched him struggle, and just as his fingers nearly grazed it, Gu calmly sliced an apple.

“Eat,” Gu ordered, pressing a piece of apple to Zheng Xuancheng’s lips with the tip of the knife. If he was careless even for a moment, the knife would leave a blood-red mark across his mouth.

Zheng Xuancheng, completely at Gu’s mercy, dared not resist. He opened his mouth. But chewing the fruit was like chewing wax, every bite filled with dread. The next second, a scream tore from his throat.

“Ah! Ah! Help—!” But his cries were cut short.

He stared in horror at his leg, twisted and suspended at a grotesque angle, cold sweat pouring down as agony forced fresh screams from him.

The doctor had said his leg, though seriously injured, could possibly recover if properly cared for. Now, he clearly heard the sound of bone breaking once again.

And yet, he dared not make a sound.

Gu Pingsheng pressed the fruit knife to his throat. In Gu’s eyes, Zheng Xuancheng saw a bottomless darkness, and knew without doubt that if he screamed again, Gu would silence him forever.

“I hope Director Zheng can answer a few questions,” Gu said, his thin lips curling into a cold smile.

Zheng Xuancheng nodded frantically.

Gu, apparently satisfied with his cooperation, continued, “Nine years ago—what happened?” He added, “My patience is limited. I suggest you cooperate fully.”

“I’ll tell you everything,” Zheng Xuancheng stammered. “Back then, I went to the Warsaw underground club with some friends. We heard there was a new batch of girls. Wen—no, Mrs. Gu—was the most eye-catching of all. Many wanted to try… something new. But then, something happened. She went crazy and started attacking people with a knife. Others joined in the fight… When we heard the police were coming, we all fled. Later, the incident blew up, but she was unharmed—I heard someone protected her. That’s all I know, I swear.”

“Who protected her?” Could it be the same person acting again now?

“I really don’t know,” Zheng Xuancheng replied. “Most of the people present were held accountable; the rest either fled abroad or disappeared, never mentioning what happened again.”

Gu Pingsheng’s gaze was icy. “No one talks about it, yet you dare to make a spectacle of it online?”

“It wasn’t me!” Zheng Xuancheng cried. “I’ve been busy splitting up the family assets—why would I make trouble for myself? It wasn’t me, someone set me up!”

He denied it, but his words lacked credibility.

Gu Pingsheng was not the sort to let even one go unpunished, even at the risk of a thousand mistakes. Naturally, he would not believe him.

Half an hour later, Gu Pingsheng emerged from the hospital room, calmly letting down his rolled sleeves. He glanced coolly at Qian Hongdan, said nothing, and strode away.

Qian Hongdan watched his retreating figure for a moment, then stood and pushed open the ICU door.

As soon as the door opened, the mix of disinfectant and urine hit her, making her instinctively cover her nose.

Zheng Xuancheng’s leg had been lowered, but his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, his expression vacant, almost idiotic.

When the doctor came on rounds and saw him, he paused in shock, hurrying forward to check on him.

When Qian Hongdan heard the doctor say Zheng Xuancheng would be bedridden for life, his lower body effectively useless, she felt no surprise and little emotion. She simply gazed at the man on the bed for a long moment, then turned and left.

Gu Pingsheng’s purpose in coming today was not hard to guess. And from the moment she chose not to intervene, she had ceased to care whether Zheng Xuancheng lived or died.

This was the price of his philandering. She had wanted to ask, once, at what moment the man who had sworn to walk through life with her had stopped loving her. But now, it seemed the answer no longer mattered.

What Qian Hongdan did not know was that shortly after she left, the woman she had slapped and dragged by the hair in the suite—Wang Haiqiong—also appeared at the hospital.

That evening, as ever, the Junyue Club was ablaze with neon, decadent in its dim illumination.

Li Yueting watched as Zhao Fuhe entered the club and, for a moment, thought she was hallucinating.

By all logic, since Zhao had left this place, and was being kept by someone, she should be doing her best to erase the shameful past—not returning here, and certainly not sneaking in with sunglasses, anxious to avoid recognition.

Curiosity piqued, Li Yueting followed.

No sooner had Zhao arrived than someone notified Sister Zhang. At this point, Sister Zhang saw her almost as a money-making tree. The clients Zhao accompanied were some of the club’s most lucrative.

Since sleeping with Gu Pingsheng, Zhao Fuhe no longer intended to see other men—her only aim was to bear his child.

Sister Zhang handed her a glass of water with a smile. “You’re being foolish. What’s wrong with arranging another way out for yourself?”

“The way out you mean is those greasy, fat, middle-aged men with bald heads?” Zhao replied.

Sister Zhang took a sip of water. “If every boss were like Mr. Gu, do you think any of the girls here would look down on this work? Wealthy, handsome, willing to keep you—opportunities like that are a rare blessing. You can’t expect to meet another. If you hadn’t gotten lucky and run into Mr. Gu, would you even be sitting here talking to me now?”

Zhao gripped her purse tightly. “Either way, I’ve achieved my goal. I don’t want to continue. If my senior finds out, he…”

“You think you can quit just because you want to?” Sister Zhang slammed her cup down. Two burly men entered. “The clients are already arranged for tonight. Do your job and we’ll talk about the future. If not… you can explain yourself to them.”

Zhao gritted her teeth. “That’s not what you said before.”

Sister Zhang didn’t want to fall out with her. She softened her tone. “I trained you myself—would I harm you? But tonight’s clients are set. If you don’t show up, I can’t answer for it. Let’s talk when you’re done. If you truly want out, I won’t force you.”

Beneath the velvet words, Zhao knew exactly how dangerous Sister Zhang could be. Since she’d come this far, if she did nothing, Sister Zhang would never forgive her.

After Zhao changed clothes, someone entered and whispered in Sister Zhang’s ear.

“A young woman?”

“Yes, she’s asking the bartender about Zhao Fuhe’s whereabouts.”

Sister Zhang’s attention sharpened. “Could she be Mr. Gu’s wife?”

She’d seen plenty of wives confronting mistresses—such incidents had to be handled discreetly, or they’d ruin business. The Junyue Club’s allure lay in its privacy; any whiff of scandal, and word would spread, threatening their reputation.

“She didn’t say who she was.”

“Where is she?”

“At the bar.”

Sister Zhang headed straight to the bar.

At Lanhu Residence, in the afternoon, Wen Zhixia watched a video posted by Wen Lechuan and, after some thought, called him.

But it was a woman who answered.

“Where’s Lechuan?” Wen Zhixia checked to make sure she’d dialed correctly, then asked.

Chu Man, painting her nails carelessly, put the phone on speaker. “He’s in the shower.”

Wen Zhixia paused. This was a line bound to cause misunderstanding. “Who are you?”

“I’m—”

“Chu Man, who told you to answer my calls?” Wen Lechuan, hearing Wen Zhixia’s voice from the bathroom, thought he was imagining it, then realized Chu Man had answered for him.

His scolding startled Chu Man. Her nail polish slipped, smearing her skin. She frowned, annoyed, and wiped it off. “What are you shouting for?”

Wen Lechuan took the phone and left the room. “Sis.”

Wen Zhixia hadn’t missed that “Chu Man.” Among those she knew, there was indeed a Miss Chu with the same name.

“Lechuan, are you in… Liang City now?”

He hesitated; she had likely guessed the truth.

“Yes.”

“Chu Man… is she the Chu family’s eldest daughter?”

“She is.”

Wen Zhixia sighed. “You’re not a child anymore. I can’t control you like before. As long as you know what you’re doing.”

“I’m not a kid, Sis,” Wen Lechuan replied.

It was precisely because he was no longer a child that there were things she could no longer say. “I saw your video online.”

He had expected her call and had intended to phone her later himself. “…Gu—my brother-in-law—made them sign a severance agreement and even cut off one of Dad’s fingers. They couldn’t get the money, so they’re desperate, trying to make a scene to blackmail you.”

She had already guessed as much when she overheard Gu Pingsheng and Zhang Zhiyan at the Chang’an Club.

“Did you go to Liang City on your own, or was it his idea?”

Wen Lechuan didn’t speak ill of Gu Pingsheng behind his back. “It was my choice.”

He couldn’t spend his life hiding behind his sister’s protection.

“Take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything.” Though she hadn’t interacted much with Chu Man, Wen Zhixia remembered her as a difficult woman.

And indeed, as reality proved, once the call ended, Wen Lechuan returned to the living room to find Miss Chu watching him with a sly, teasing gaze. She beckoned him with a finger, and as he leaned closer, her half-finished manicure trailed under his collar, leaving a streak of red on his pale shirt.

Wen Lechuan frowned and caught her hand.

Chu Man’s lips curled, her eyes smoldering with wanton allure. Her features were naturally seductive, like a dark, luxuriant rose in full bloom.

“You’ve ruined my nails.”

He looked at the vivid red on her fingertips, which only made her hands appear even more exquisite, as if carved by a master craftsman.

“I’ll repaint them for you,” he offered.

She arched her fingers, but as he picked up the polish, she abruptly withdrew her hand, reclining lazily on the sofa like a Persian cat. “Take off your clothes.”

He gripped the bottle more tightly.

“What are you waiting for? Did you really think, just because you’ve won my father’s favor, you’re any different than a horse broken in by the trainer for my amusement?” Her taunting words were laced with feminine seduction and a trace of mockery.

“Look at our young Master Wen. Tsk tsk, won’t even take off a shirt. What use have I for you?” Her voice was low and soft, like a lover’s cooing, but “young master” in the Chu family meant something very different.

He’d ruined her nails; she was bent on bruising his pride.

Miss Chu never forgot a slight.

Back at Junyue Club.

When Zhao Fuhe finally emerged, it was nearly dawn.

A car pulled up in front of her; the window glided down, revealing a woman whose face looked vaguely familiar.

“We’ve met at Gu Xia Group,” Li Yueting prompted, “I’m Mr. Gu’s secretary.”

Only then did Zhao recall: when she’d tried to find Gu Pingsheng to plead for her brother but failed to reach him, she’d seen this woman in the company lobby.

“Get in. I’ll take you home,” Li Yueting offered.

But Zhao hesitated, wary. “Are you waiting here just for me?”

A secretary at this hour, at this place, coincidentally running into her—did Gu Pingsheng know she’d returned to Junyue?

The thought sent a chill through her.

“No need to worry, Miss Zhao. I came to meet a friend and happened to see you leaving with friends, so I thought I’d say hello.” Li Yueting glanced past her, feigning casual curiosity. “Did your friends already leave?”

Li Yueting knew exactly why Zhao was here, but she pretended ignorance to lower Zhao’s guard.

“They’re still inside. I wasn’t feeling well, so I left early,” Zhao replied.

“Perfect. It’s hard to find a cab here. Let me take you. If something happened to you at this hour, Mr. Gu would be upset,” Li Yueting said kindly.

Glancing at the nearly empty street, Zhao hesitated, then got into the car.

“Miss Li, you’re so pretty. Do you have a boyfriend?” Zhao probed.

Li Yueting caught her eye in the rearview mirror, then laughed. “Me? I’m always so busy with work, I don’t have a bit of feminine charm. What man would want me? I can hardly compete with you, Miss Zhao.”

Zhao relaxed a little at this, relieved that Li Yueting apparently had no designs on Gu Pingsheng.

As they drove, Li Yueting remarked, “But speaking of beauty, of all the women I’ve seen, none is more unforgettable than young Miss Wen. Did you see the recent news? She was still in high school when, at the Warsaw underground club, she nearly caused a tragedy. Even with such a scandal, Mr. Gu has protected her unwaveringly for years. Isn’t that remarkable?”

Zhao’s head snapped up. “The Warsaw underground club?”

She searched her phone for the news, but the keywords were blocked, and most reports had been deleted. Only after some effort did she find what Li Yueting had mentioned.

After reading the summary, she asked, “Is all this true?”

Li Yueting shrugged, her tone inscrutable. “There’s video evidence—how can it not be true? But that’s just my opinion. With Mr. Gu’s protection and admirers in the shadows, what’s real can be made false.”

Zhao had always thought herself inferior to Wen Zhixia because of her past as a hostess. Yet how much better was Wen Zhixia, really?

This discovery made her feel a strange relief.

“If anything, Miss Zhao, you look a bit like young Miss Wen,” Li Yueting said with a smile. “It’s a pity Mr. Gu married her before he met you. Otherwise, perhaps I’d be calling you Mrs. Gu.”

Zhao squeezed her phone tightly. She’d thought the same—though Wen Zhixia beat her to it, who could say what the future held?

“Why are you telling me all this? What do you want?” she asked, not letting herself get carried away.

Li Yueting replied, “If I help you rise to the top, you won’t forget me, will you?”

Zhao’s eyes flickered. “What do you want?”

Li Yueting smiled, “I want to move up. I don’t want to be just a secretary forever. The group has a reshuffle at the end of every year. If you succeed, I hope you’ll put in a good word for me.”

Zhao asked, “How can you be sure I’ll succeed?”

“Because Mr. Gu treats you differently. Apart from young Miss Wen, I’ve never seen him care for anyone so much when they’re ill.”

At Lanhu Residence.

Wen Zhixia’s phone vibrated—it was a message from someone named “Chen”: Yes.

Her previous message had asked: Was it you who dealt with Zheng Xuancheng?

Reading the brief reply, Wen Zhixia felt a sense of calm settle in her heart.

“What are you looking at, so lost in thought?” Gu Pingsheng walked up, noticing how absorbed she was in her phone.