Mr. Tycoon's Daring Wife

The Elder was already on edge from his conversation with Zhao Moyao. Hearing Yang Feng’s words only drove him to the borderline of madness. "So, she’s alive?!"

Yang Feng’s face darkened and his presence became more violent than the previous storm. His hostility demanded blood to be spilled while his brain conjured up sinister thoughts. His brooding aura alone could destroy the city without leaving a trace behind.

"You intend to kill my wife?" Yang Feng’s eyes never showed a trace of humanity within them; resembling the eyes of the Devil, hopelessly black.

Yang Mujian settled down when he realized his grandson was not talking about the late Matriarch but about that wench instead. "Kill her? Do you think I’ve become senile to the point where I can’t distinguish between which neck can be touched and which can’t?" He collapsed back onto his seat and ran a hand over his face — an action that Yang Feng had never witnessed.

"Hahaha!" Randomly, Yang Mujian broke into a fit of manic laughter, the wisdom left his eyes and drifted far away, beyond the clutches of no return. "Pity me? That useless woman pities me? Don’t make me laugh."

Yang Feng wasn’t provoked by Yang Mujian’s words. It was a tactic to get under his skin in hopes of enduring a swift death, but Yang Feng didn’t give in to his burning anger. "No one will pity you more than grandmother herself." Then he turned his back to Yang Mujian who clambered to his feet in hopes of dragging his grandson back.

First, it was Zhao Moyao, and now, it was Yang Feng. What did those two know about the disappearance of the Matriarch? "Shameless runt, get back here! Where is she?! Where is your grandmother?!" The roaring of his voice could be heard from behind the shut screen doors.

Everywhere, this place was swarmed with Yang Feng’s people. No one could leave or enter this mansion without his permission. There were no means of communication in the house, especially since the phone line was cut, the wifi signal, jammed, and the radio towers within the vicinity, hijacked.

Tomorrow is the half-decade stockholder meeting and subsequently, the day Yang Mujian will face his ultimate doom.

- - - - -

"Absolutely not." Jiang Zihui declared for the hundredth time. He was seated on the chaise couch, pinching his forehead, lips pressed into a straight line.

"You don’t own me. Even if you do, you have no rights over me. I behave as I please. I do as I please." Zhao Lifei returned to her previous self, her eyes piercing through Jiang Zihui. She had changed her clothes into the only female pants she could find in this house.

"You lied to me. How long did you think that fake facade was going to hold up for? I should’ve killed you with your gun. How could you?" Zhao Lifei watched him slowly remove the hand from his face to stare up at her with a helpless look. She hated that expression; it was calling her weak and powerless — a damsel in distress. Who the hell was the indecisive damsel here? Jiang Zihui? Yeah, that would be a decent description for this distraught man is was currently having an internal battle with himself.

"Listen, I’m doing this for your sake. Hell, there’s a crazy senior citizen hell-bent on killing you in Shenbei! You have lost your mind if you think I’m going to allow you to go back." Jiang Zihui sat up ramrod straight on the couch and let out a heavy sigh. "He might’ve only wiped your memories this time, but who’s to say he won’t wipe your existence off this Earth? Listen to me. This is the safest place for you right now."

"I was caught off guard by the previous one. This time, I—"

"No. This is too much of a risk. You’re staying in Leinan and that’s final." Jiang Zihui was glad he sent his younger brother home. The blabbermouth would’ve been too much for him to handle. "And I didn’t mean to lie to you. It was in the heat of the moment and my idiot brother—"

"You mean to tell me that your YOUNGER brother was able to convince you to do something out of your character? Do you think I was born yesterday? How can you even give in to his peer pressure? As a General, you’re supposed to think straight and—"

"You acknowledge me as your General?" Jiang Zihui’s hopeful voice made her frown deepen.

"Sure, I’ve been disrespectful to you, but I’m not one to deny ranks." She frowned. "Listen, I would love to chat with you, but I have a home to return to. I have problems to amend and I need to do it now—argh!" Something traveled up her throat and her knees buckled, causing her to stumble over her footing.

Jiang Zihui’s eyes widened, panicking at the sudden change in her behavior. "What’s wrong? What is it?!" He demanded, standing up and rushing to her side when she collapsed to her knees, clutching her stomach and heaving.

"DOCTOR! Someone call a doctor!" He roared to the servants outside the door. One of them opened it while the other ran off to fetch the local doctor.

"Call in the chef. I’m going to kill him." Jiang Zihui snarled, picking her up bridal style and rushing her to the nearest bedroom which happened to be his. He settled the groaning woman onto the black sheets and worriedly placed a hand over her forehead, checking her temperature.

"I...I feel sick." Zhao Lifei coughed, dry-heaving again, but nothing was going out.

"You’re going to be fine. It’s probably food-poisoning and—"

"Oh my god." Zhao Lifei’s face paled, her eyes briefly widening. "We didn’t wear protection."

"Protection? For what?" Jiang Zihui awkwardly scratched the back of his head, "Oh you mean protection as in uh...the flappy things or stick you use during the time of the month? I’ll have one of the maids fetch it for you." He stood up, completely misunderstanding her words.

Zhao Lifei gritted her teeth. She couldn’t tell him anything. Even if he hadn’t harmed her once in his house, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it in the near future. If she revealed the truth, she didn’t know how he would react to it. "Y-yeah, tell the maid to bring a thick and long pad. I don’t like...the stick. Also, call off the doctor. I’m fine. It’s just cramps. I get really bad cramps okay?" She lied, hoping he bought her bluff. His back was turned to her and she couldn’t read his emotions.

"Okay." He answered her, walking off without glancing back.

Zhao Lifei let out a sigh of relief and collapsed back onto the bed, her hands resting on her stomach. It wasn’t the right time to have a child. There were so many obstacles that needed to be cleared first...

- - - - -

Jiang Zihui’s fingers were tightly gripping the cup of freshly squeezed juice. The glass cracked under his immense pressure. He added the final blow by slamming the cup onto the table, shattering the material that broke into shards that sliced his hands. Blood dripped into the spilled orange juice, turning it into a murky red that reminded him of wine.

She’s pregnant.

She’s pregnant and it’s not with his child.

She’s pregnant with another man’s child.

She’s pregnant.

The thoughts coursed through his brain, mocking and taunting him that he had come to her too late. That she was no longer pure. That she was not a virgin. That she officially belonged to another man.

He could kill the baby.

He could kill the infant inside her by feeding her abortion pills without her knowledge.

He could diffuse lavender into the room and have her eat foods that could trigger a miscarriage.

He could kill the baby.

Jiang Zihui’s eyes squeezed shut. For the first time in the past few years, he finally staggered his way out of the door and down to the wine cellar. It had been untouched for months, but even so, the servants kept the place clean. He grabbed the first bottle he saw.

He couldn’t kill the baby.

He would kill himself before he killed the baby.

Whether he liked it or not, the baby might’ve been another man’s, but it contained traces of her within it.

"DAMN IT!" He screamed, smashing the wine onto the cobble-stone ground and thrashing all of the fine liquor onto the floor.

Why...? Why? WHY?!

He wanted to destroy something and brutally beat something into a pulp. Words couldn’t describe his unpredictable anger. Nothing could rival his whirlwind of emotions. The raging fire in his eyes masked the stabbing pain in his heart.

’Why him? Why did I have to come so late? Why did I have to screw it all up? Why did I have to be so fvcking patient?!’

He ground his teeth, painfully squeezing his eyes shut. His well-maintained nails clawed at his chest, right at the spot where his heart was supposed to be. Anguish filled his entire body, weighing him down until he collapsed onto the broken shards of the shattered bottles on the floor But even so, the pain of his knees couldn’t rival the pain in his heart.

’Why...is it not me?’