The Byoukidere Is Her Sweetie

Chapter 119: 119: Jiang Zhi Coaxes Wife, Truth Behind Luo Family’s Great Fire
 

Jiang Zhi pressed his lips directly against the back of her hand.

This move was very effective, she froze like a block of wood, completely still.

Taking advantage of her stillness, Jiang Zhi moved her hand away and kissed her hot forehead, saying, “No.” Then he kissed her again, “No boyfriend, no girlfriend, only you.”

With just those pecks, she became as flustered as if she’d caught fire, her face and ears turning red.

She was stunned for a moment, then crouched down and scurried toward a secluded corner of the wall. Turning her head and seeing Jiang Zhi with his chin resting on his hand, still watching her without having moved, she returned and dragged him to the same corner as well.

This way, passersby couldn’t see them.

She scolded him, calling him shameless!

The shameless Jiang Zhi laughed, his canines showing.

She wasn’t soothed yet, and still angry, said, “You lied to me, Mr. Xue said you had a first love.”

This wasn’t something that could be concealed, and Jiang Zhi didn’t intend to hide it. “Consider it a first love.” He took Zhou Xufang’s hand into his, held it, and told her, “He was a boy, I was sixteen then, and he was fourteen.”

He revealed no emotion to her, his tone as ordinary as it could be.

The first important point Zhou Xufang picked up on was—Jiang Zhi’s first love was a boy, and she was frustrated: “Is it because of him that you came out?”

Jiang Zhi admitted, “Yes.”

She was so jealous she could die, “Hmph, so it was him who turned you!”

“It’s you who’s turned me back, isn’t it?” Jiang Zhi chuckled, reaching out to touch her head.

She wouldn’t let him, jumping back.

She also picked up on the second important point, “You were in young love!”

“Don’t run.” Jiang Zhi pulled her over and held her in his arms, his chin rubbing against the hat on the top of her head, “I didn’t even get the chance to be in a relationship before he was gone.”

His voice sounded a bit weak.

And somewhat suppressed.

Zhou Xufang immediately stopped moving, asked tentatively, and with caution, “He’s gone?”

“Yeah, he burned to death.”

The matter-of-fact statement erased all the jealousy in Zhou Xufang’s belly and the minor moodiness between her brows. She understood that this boy, must not be brought up; Jiang Zhi would be saddened.

“I’m not angry anymore.” She looked up at him with her finger gently poking Jiang Zhi’s furrowed brow, “Don’t be upset.”

He smiled.

He liked her too much, far too much.

He caught her hand and kissed her fingertips, “So, Fang Bao, you need to stay well and always be with me, understand?”

She nodded vigorously, her tone very serious, “Jiang Zhi, I will live a long life, and you must too.”

Jiang Zhi said okay, then caught her and kissed her.

She didn’t avoid him anymore, they were intimate for a long time before returning to their private room. Xue Baoyi had sharp eyes, ‘yo’ she called out, teasingly scolding Jiang Zhi as a little beast, to which Jiang Zhi kicked her and told her to get lost.

Zhou Xufang internally retorted to Mr. Xue that Jiang Zhi was not a little beast; he was just a bit bad, a great guy! She felt so much sympathy for Jiang Zhi, so she gave him all the best braised pork to eat.

At the end of the meal, Zhou Xufang gave Qiao Nanchu and Xue Bingxue gifts along with her sincerest wishes—for a long life. She now felt that wishing for a long life was the best blessing.

After lunch, they were supposed to go to the entertainment city together, but in the parking lot, Qiao Nanchu received a call.

“Hello.”

“Who is it?”

Qiao Nanchu didn’t speak again; after listening for a while, he turned to Xue Baoyi and said, “Get me a designated driver.” He had drunk and couldn’t drive.

Xue Baoyi casually asked, “What happened?”

“No time to explain.” Qiao Nanchu opened the car door and got into the passenger seat.

Without delay, Xue Baoyi immediately fetched a manager from the Fusheng Inn.

“I have an emergency, gotta go.” With that, Qiao Nanchu turned to urge the driver, “Drive faster.”

The lobby manager, hastily recruited to be the designated driver, stepped on the gas and the car sped away.

Xue Baoyi watched the departing taillights and clicked his tongue, “With Nanchu’s demeanor, even if the sky fell, he’d first light a cigarette. I wonder who called him to get such a reaction.”

Xue Bingxue also felt it was unusual.

Qiao Nanchu was truly indifferent, unbendingly so except towards a few old friends; the people and matters that could truly catch his eye were few and far between.

Xue Baoyi speculated, “Couldn’t have been his ex-girlfriend, could it?”

Probably not.

On tiptoe, Zhou Xufang whispered into Jiang Zhi’s ear, “The person on the phone, they didn’t say anything.”

Not speaking…

Jiang Zhi knew who it was.

The car arrived at Jiajing Garden. Qiao Nanchu got out of the car and ran directly to the third floor without knocking. He stood at the door and sent a text message.

“Open the door.”

It was freezing cold outside, but there was a thin sweat on his forehead. He pursed his lips, feeling the urge to smoke.

He waited nearly half a minute before the door opened.

As he was about to get a cigarette out of the pack, he put it back in his pocket and looked up. The first thing he saw was the excessively pale neck of the girl, standing leaning on the door, her eyes moist, lips slightly parted.

“Brother Chu…”

This was the first sentence of lip-reading Wen Baiyang had learned and the three words she could imitate most accurately.

“Do you want to leave Da Mai Mountain?”

“Call me brother and I’ll take you away.”

When they first met, the rhododendrons on Da Mai Mountain were in full bloom across the hills, and he insisted she call him brother as he gave her one.

But she couldn’t even speak.

Still, he brought her from Da Mai Mountain to Imperial City.

Qiao Nanchu entered the room: “Where do you feel uncomfortable?”

Standing barefoot on the carpet, she used sign language to tell him she had severe stomach pain.

“Why aren’t your shoes on?”

After saying ‘excuse me,’ he bent down and picked her up.

She didn’t dare to move in his embrace, her eyes bloodshot, cold sweat dampening her hair, not knowing where to place her hands, she awkwardly clutched at his sleeve.

He didn’t bother with slippers but carried her to the sofa, touched her forehead, and it was burning hot: “Where are your clothes?”

She pointed to the bedroom.

Because she got up in a hurry, she was only wearing pajamas and had broken out into a cold sweat, leaving her body ice-cold.

Qiao Nanchu went into the room and got a sweater and coat for her.

Located at a high altitude, Wen Baiyang’s rosy cheeks from Da Mai Mountain were quite noticeable when she first arrived in Imperial City, but over the years, they had nearly faded away. Now with a fever, her little face had lost all color, looking extremely pale.

Her face was round, and her eyes were round too, showing a hint of naivety when she looked at people. But now she was ill, her expression lethargic, her eyes devoid of vitality, as she curled up on the sofa, her consciousness a bit blurred.

Qiao Nanchu brushed the sweaty hair off her face: “Can you dress yourself?”

She tried to raise her hand.

But it was limp, lacking any strength, and after several attempts, she couldn’t even get her hand through the sleeve.

Qiao Nanchu simply picked her up from the sofa, told her to stay still and not to move, as he began to dress her himself. Having never taken care of anyone before, his movements, though gentle, were still somewhat rough, and it took quite a while to finally get the sweater and coat on her.

Picking up the blanket from the sofa, he wrapped it around her head: “To the hospital, huh?”

Wen Baiyang nodded, her mind foggy.

By the end, her consciousness was no longer clear, vaguely seeing him urging the driver, saying, “Drive faster, faster…”

He said, “Hang in there, just hang in there and it’ll be okay…”

It was acute appendicitis, and surgery was needed.

Qiao Nanchu signed the consent form for the surgery, acting as the patient’s ‘brother’, and strictly speaking, he really was her ‘brother.’ Wen Baiyang’s biological mother, Wen Ya, was a young woman who had come down from Da Mai Mountain, only a little over a decade older than Qiao Nanchu, and had married his father five years ago as a second wife. Before that, Wen Ya had never been married; Wen Baiyang was the result of a premarital pregnancy. Her father was a close relative, which caused Wen Baiyang to be born with a disability and abandoned on Da Mai Mountain, living with her grandmother.

Wen Ya was like a parasitic vine, at least on the surface, sometimes crying in nine out of ten sentences.

Qiao Nanchu rarely contacted his young stepmother so that when Wen Ya received his call, she was surprised: “Nanchu?”

Her tone sounded uncertain.

“It’s me.”

His attitude was as cold as ever.

At that moment, his father’s voice came from the other end of the phone.

“Who is it?”

Wen Ya replied in a soft, delicate voice: “It’s Nanchu.” When she continued on the phone, her tone became even gentler, “What’s the matter? Why are you calling at this hour? Have you had lunch?”

She was offering warmth, almost like a caring mother.

Qiao Nanchu couldn’t be bothered with pretense: “Your daughter is sick, in the hospital.”

She started crying instantly: “Is it serious? Is it dangerous?”

“Acute appendicitis.” Qiao Nanchu looked at the operation room’s door, the light on, his eyes cool as autumn frost, “You were a nurse, so you know how to take care of patients—I don’t need to tell you. Make some soup tomorrow and come to the hospital to take care of her, and if you want to act as a loving mother in front of my father, then at least do a convincing job.”

Having finished speaking, he hung up the phone.

A loving mother?

Would a loving mother leave her biological daughter in the mountains, unheard from and uncared for, for over a dozen years?

Wen Baiyang didn’t wake up until three p.m., but Qiao Nanchu hadn’t left; he was sitting by the bed.

“Brother Chu.”

“Mm.”

Qiao Nanchu didn’t understand sign language, but he could read those three words. However, in the girl’s second year in Imperial City, he had learned a bit of sign language.

Using sign language, Wen Baiyang said, “Sorry for taking up your time.” She didn’t have anyone else to contact; when the pain was bad enough to make her roll on the floor, he was the first one she thought of.

Qiao Nanchu spoke more slowly than usual, “I’m off today, not busy.”

She gestured her thanks to him, then stopped bothering him, lying down quietly, watching him.

Qiao Nanchu read emails on his phone for a while, then lifted his head; those round eyes were still fixed on him, “Not sleeping?”

She shook her head, saying the incision was too painful to sleep.

He threw his phone on the cabinet next to the hospital bed, freeing his hands; he clumsily stroked her head, patting it twice, “Endure it, it’ll stop hurting if you endure.”

He really wasn’t good at comforting people.

When Wen Baiyang first arrived in Imperial City and didn’t know sign language, he wasn’t a patient man; his writing was fast but messy.

“You can stay here for now.”

He settled her in a big house.

He didn’t live there, and before leaving, he gave her many instructions.

“The lady who cooks will come during the day.”

“The school has been contacted, you’ll report in three days.”

He tore another post-it note, writing a string of numbers for her, “This is my number, call me if you need anything. But I often have training and may not always get the call. If it’s urgent, ask the lady who cooks.”

His handwriting was flamboyant.

She struggled to read it.

He must have just graduated from the police academy, still wearing his uniform, explaining everything before he left.

It took all her courage to dare to grab the strap of his backpack.

He turned around to meet the timid eyes of the little girl; indeed, a little girl—fourteen years old and only as tall as his chest, thin and small.

“Scared?”

Scared.

In this strange city, she only knew him.

She nodded.

He smiled, patting her shoulder, “Endure it, you’ll stop being scared if you endure.”

He always said that, endure it, and it will get better.

There was only one time when he didn’t comfort her that way.

That was her first menstrual period, which turned into a complete mess with the bedding and pants all soiled; she was confused and scared, tears streaming down.

“What are you crying for?”

Her shoulders were shaking as she cried, and he took a tissue, roughly wiping away her tears.

“It’s not a terminal illness. All girls go through this.”

Finally, he awkwardly shoved a pack of sanitary pads to her, then slammed the door as he left. In the evening, he returned, threw a book on female biology at her, and again slammed the door as he left.

That year, Qiao Nanchu was twenty, Wen Baiyang only fourteen.

Qiao Nanchu didn’t leave the hospital until after five.

By six o’clock, the Weibo server had crashed.

Up-and-coming male celebrity Xiao Linsu announced his withdrawal from public life. At the press conference, his manager was absent, and even the agency had no representative present. Faced with various questions from reporters, Xiao Linsu only explained, “Tired, just want to rest.”

The news was everywhere; the man in question, however, was no longer to be seen, as if he had evaporated from the world.

At quarter past six, Jiang Zhi received a call from Qiao Nanchu.

“What’s up?”

As darkness fell and the chill deepened, Jiang Zhi lay on a small daybed, covered by a thin blanket, with medicine that had just been brought in set on the table to cool.

“Captain Cheng called,” said Qiao Nanchu succinctly, “just as you expected.”

The men’s watch was a limited edition, traceable to the identity of the purchaser.

Among them was Luo Changde.

Jiang Zhi rose from his daybed, carrying the medicine over to the window and pouring the dark liquid into the planter. He said, “We can make the arrest now.”

At six-thirty, the Criminal Investigation Team set out to take someone from the Luo Family.

In the Luo family study, Luo Huaiyu smashed a cup of tea and picked up a cane on the desk to strike down on the back of his eldest son. “You worthless thing! How could our Luo family have spawned such a beast!”

With that cane strike, Luo Changde’s legs buckled, and he knelt on the ground, sweating with pain. Gritting his teeth, he leaned on the desk to stand up. “Like dragon sire dragon, like phoenix sire phoenix, Dad, how do you think I was born?”

“You—”

Luo Huaiyu trembled with fury, raising the cane again.

“Grandfather.”

Luo Qinghe stepped forward and caught the cane. “Leave this matter to me.”

Luo Huaiyu glared venomously at his eldest son before relenting. Leaning on his cane, he left the study, leaving behind a single sentence for his granddaughter. “Remember, our Luo family must not be implicated.”

Luo Qinghe answered, “I know.”

Once the old man left the study, she closed the door, and her expression suddenly changed. “I’ve already taken care of that woman for you, why did you feel the need to silence her?”

Luo Changde moved his back, feeling the painful burn. Bloodshot eyes filled with resentment. “Only dead people can’t talk. Money is only a temporary solution.”

Luo Qinghe folded her arms. “Well then, you made the mess, you clean it up.”

Luo Changde sneered.

He sat down and poured himself a cup of tea, confident and composed, “I pushed Jiang Zhi into the sea for whom, do you think?” He scoffed and took a sip of tea to rinse his mouth. “Do I need to remind you how that fire started eight years ago?”

Her face changed drastically with those words.

Luo Changde tugged at the corner of his mouth, smiling as he looked at the daughter most like him. “Dear daughter, don’t make me wait too long at the police station.”

Her hands clenched as her eyes gradually darkened.

At that moment.

A servant at the doorway said, “Miss, the police have come.”

At eight o’clock, Luo Changde was detained by the police.

At half-past eight, Zhou Xufang was still out delivering takeaways. She had to get back by nine to video chat with Jiang Zhi; this was her last order, and the buyer’s address was on Tianjing Road.

Previously, she and Jiang Zhi had delivered takeout there once. She knew the route well. The construction site across the street was hustling through the night, and the residential area was relatively quiet.

She went to the third floor, knocked on the door, and called out, “306, your takeaway.”

A man inside replied, “Just a moment.”

Soon after, someone came to open the door.

Zhou Xufang, wearing a mask and a delivery cap, asked, “Mr. Jiang?”

The man, in his forties, looked her over. He wore a gray cotton jacket on top and only pajama bottoms below, seemingly intrigued by the novelty of a female delivery person, he scrutinized her for a long while before saying, “That’s me.”

Zhou Xufang handed over the bag. “Your porridge.”

The man, with a licentious gaze, took it and smiled at her, “Thanks, little sister.”

Flippant.

Zhou Xufang didn’t like such people. Not even bothering to ask for a good review, she turned to leave. Just as she reached the stairwell, her steps suddenly halted.

What was that smell?

She took a sniff and sniffed deeply again.

Like the stench of blood…

Following the scent, she moved further inside and stopped in front of a door that was left unlocked. Gently pushing it open, she was right at the ventilator, where the strong smell of blood assailed her senses.

Her foot had just stepped inside when she saw the blood on the floor and the woman lying in a pool of it.

She looked around briefly and, composedly, took out her phone to report to the police: “Hello officer, I’d like to report a crime.”

At the police station.

Due to Luo Changde’s case, the entire Criminal Investigation Team had not clocked out, interrogating through the night.

“Has he confessed?” Captain Qiao entered from outside, still with a cigarette in his mouth.

The guy sure was addicted to smoking.

Captain Cheng of the Criminal Investigation Team hadn’t had dinner yet, cramming a piece of bread into his mouth: “We’ve questioned him four times, he hasn’t uttered a word.” He cursed with a laugh, “Just now, that beast rolled his eyes back and feigned unconsciousness, we’ve sent him to the infirmary.”

Captain Qiao extinguished his cigarette and pulled up a chair to sit. “A few kicks will make him behave.”

This hooligan cop!

Captain Cheng took a sip of water and teased him, “Captain Qiao, forcing a confession is illegal.”