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“You’re disgusting!” Her face flushed red with humiliation as tears streamed down her cheeks, but he showed no trace of pity. On the contrary, seeing her in such anguish fueled his darkest impulses. Alcohol and raw emotion had stripped away all restraint. He swept the tea set off the table, shattering it on the floor. She screamed and tried to run, but he grabbed her wrist, flinging her onto the sofa like a ragdoll and delivering several sharp slaps across her face. Unable to escape, she could only cry out, “You scum!” Grasping her hair, he sneered at her tear-streaked face, veins bulging with pain. “Marrying a whore like you means I might end up raising some bastard brat as my own son. How come you can have so many men, but I can’t have multiple women? Xie Xinqi, can’t you grow up a little?”
When she first met Su Jiannian, he had seemed so refined, his piano-playing capable of melting even the coldest hearts. From the start, she had thought him too perfect, searching desperately for flaws that never surfaced. Now she understood—men were far better at masking their true nature than women. As long as he chose to, he could conceal his essence for years. Falling in love with a man who was overly perfect, overly accommodating, meant that when his mask finally fell, the truth was often far more horrifying than imagined.
And the more agitated she became, the harder she struggled to escape, the crueler his blows grew. After forty minutes, battered and bruised, she collapsed into a corner, sobbing until no tears remained. With a venomous glare, he spat, “You’d better learn to behave,” before leaving her house. Her limbs ached too much to move; her face was covered in abrasions, and every tear that trickled over them stung unbearably. Trembling, she pulled out her phone and dialed the number saved under speed dial 1. Xie Xiuchen’s photo appeared on the screen.
Within ten minutes, Xie Xiuchen rushed home. The living room was in shambles—shattered ceramics and glass littered the floor, and his sister sat huddled in a corner, looking utterly broken. Panicked, he knelt before her, lifting her chin gently and shaking her fingers. “Xinqi, Xinqi, look at me! Are you conscious?”
She clutched the edge of his shirt, forcing back her tears. “Brother… Brother… It was all Su Jiannian…”
“I know. Don’t talk about him now.” He carefully draped her arm over his shoulder and lifted her into his arms. “Are you hurt badly? Any broken bones? Should I take you to the hospital?”
“No, it’s not serious…”
Like a stubborn child, she wouldn’t cry immediately after being slapped. Instead, she would stare at her tormentor with reddened eyes filled with hatred until comfort came from a loved one. That was how Xie Xinqi felt now. Leaning against her brother’s shoulder, she tried to hold back but couldn’t. Overwhelmed, she burst into sobs. He held her close, stroking her back, and throughout the process of tending to her wounds in her room, he was exceedingly gentle, careful not to cause her further pain. All she knew was to cling to him and pour out her grievances, unaware of the seething rage burning deep within his eyes.
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The next afternoon, Su Jiannian finally woke up around one o’clock, recalling fragments of what he had done the previous night. He quickly called Xie Xinqi, but no one answered. After several unanswered calls, he chuckled bitterly and dialed another woman instead. However, just as he drove his car out of the underground garage onto the surface, an explosive jolt shook the vehicle. His body lurched forward, slamming into the windshield. The airbag deployed belatedly. Dazed, he touched his forehead, finding his palm smeared with blood. Alarms blared through the neighborhood as he turned to see an SUV rammed into his car, crumpling it like wet paper. Before he could comprehend what was happening, another deafening crash shattered the side window. Glass shards rained down, and a hand reached in, unlocked the door, and yanked him out by the arm.
Several residents who had been taking a stroll stopped to watch, but the attacker paid them no mind. Grabbing Su Jiannian by the back of his head, he slammed his face into the car door. Su Jiannian let out a pained groan, stumbling like a cripple. Clutching his head, he tried to look up, only to be met with a punch to the face and a knee to the stomach. Then came a torrent of punches and kicks, raining down relentlessly until he wished for death. Finally, he was hoisted up by the throat, his vision swimming with stars, and through blurred sight, he saw Xie Xiuchen’s face looming menacingly above him.
As always, Xie Xiuchen wore a Windsor knot tie, exuding the polished demeanor of a nobleman. But his expression was icy and wrathful, his silence more terrifying than words. Without uttering a word, he kicked Su Jiannian, sending him tumbling down the steps.
The crowd grew larger, yet no one dared make a sound or call the police. Su Jiannian, unable to beg for mercy, was subjected to dozens more kicks to the head. By the time he was nearly unconscious, spitting out a mixture of foam, saliva, and blood, he weakly muttered, “I didn’t mean to hurt Xinqi…” His words were cut short as Xie Xiuchen picked up a nearby metal trash can, smashing it onto his head with a resounding clang, then dumping the contents over him.
After beating Su Jiannian nearly to death, Xie Xiuchen casually pulled out his phone with one hand while keeping the other in his pocket. He snapped several photos of Su Jiannian’s trash-covered head, delivered two final kicks for good measure, adjusted his loosened tie back under his suit jacket, and walked back to his car. With a roar of the engine, he sped off, leaving behind a cloud of dust.
When Xie Xinqi saw the photos, she was left speechless. She knew her brother had trained in taekwondo. As a child, whenever she was bullied, he would step in to protect her. But she had never seen him beat someone this savagely. At first, she covered her mouth in shock, then laughed nervously. “Brother, you’re so violent… b-but… thank you.”
“Don’t thank me just yet. You’re not entirely without blame in this matter. You need to rein in your temper and stop clashing head-on with men. Men aren’t as articulate as women, and when they realize they can’t win an argument with you, they resort to violence. Especially drunk men—you should avoid them at all costs. What you did yesterday was reckless.”
“So you’re blaming me now?”
She tried to laugh but winced as the movement pulled at the wound on her lip, sucking in a sharp breath and covering her mouth with her hand. He quickly leaned closer, tilting her face up to examine the injury. Softly, he asked, “Does it hurt that much?” But as his gaze met her wide, glistening eyes, his mind went blank. He hastily withdrew his hand, looking away in irritation. “You need to learn how to prevent situations like this from happening. I can help you now, but once you’re married, I won’t be able to do as much. Avoiding these kinds of incidents will make your marriage last longer.”
Xie Xinqi smiled bitterly. “I’m never getting married in this lifetime.”
“What nonsense. Su Jiannian is just an exception. You’ll meet a good man someday.”
“As long as I have Brother, I don’t need to get married.”
Xie Xiuchen froze for a moment before pushing her forehead lightly. “Don’t be silly. Go rest.”
He had known from a young age that they weren’t blood-related. That was why he had allowed himself to entertain fantasies about her, leading him down a path of repeated mistakes. Blood ties themselves weren’t frightening—it was the deeply ingrained sense of familial affection that made things complicated. She already saw him as a brother, and nothing he did could change that. He couldn’t let himself be swayed by her unintentional words or fleeting moments of closeness.
Xie Xinqi had initially decided to dismiss Su Jiannian’s drunken ramblings as nonsense, but one statement lingered in her mind: The Xie family is done for.
The first heavy snow after the New Year fell amidst biting cold winds, swirling chaotically through the air. What should have been a warm holiday season was instead marked by headlines announcing: He Cheng Group to Acquire Financing from Xie Real Estate.
For Xie Xinqi, this news was a nightmare. But for employees of the He Cheng Group, it was cause for celebration. Through the glass window, the winter sun cast cold, bright hues across the room. Lu Xiren set aside his tablet, which displayed economic news, whistling cheerfully as he styled his hair in front of the bathroom mirror. He used twice the usual amount of styling gel, then mixed three different perfumes, spraying them on his wrists and neck. With each spritz, he muttered meaningless phrases like, “Sixth Brother exudes dominance,” “That Huang guy is just a thug—no match for a king,” and “Goodbye, Xie Family.”
But the sudden ring of the doorbell startled him, causing him to accidentally spray perfume into his mouth. Spitting it out with exaggerated disgust, he opened the door grumpily. “Didn’t I tell you? You delivery people can leave packages at the property management office—no need to bring them to my door… Ah.” His jaw dropped upon seeing the courier. “Didn’t your manager say you’d quit after finding full-time work?”
“That’s what you said. Next time, I’ll leave it at the property office. Stop filing complaints against me.” Xiao La Jiao shoved a box into his hands and turned to leave.
“Wait, Yu Fei!” He rushed out and grabbed her hand. She stopped, turning back to look at where he held her. Realizing his mistake, he obediently released her, raising his hands as if surrendering to a police officer.
“What is it?”
Straightening his posture, he smiled. “To thank Miss Yellow Rose for her hard work day and night, I’d like to invite you to dinner this weekend. Would you do me the honor?”
“I’m working. No time.”
“How about next week?”
“Nope, I’ll be studying then.”
Unfazed, he squinted playfully. “So Miss Yellow Rose is preparing for graduate school exams. A smart girl—I like that.”
But she wasn’t here to chat. Rolling her eyes dismissively, she turned and walked away without hesitation. Watching her retreating figure, the familiar sting of wounded pride returned. He truly wanted to give up. But then he remembered the major accomplishment Sixth Brother had achieved that day, and realized he couldn’t keep acting this way. Determined, he chased after her, pinning her gently against the wall with his arm blocking her escape route.
Xiao La Jiao looked up at him, flustered. “W-what are you doing?”
The corridor lights were overshadowed by his tall frame, while the mingling scents of his perfumes enveloped her. One hand pressed against the wall, the other casually tucked into his pocket, he left her space to retreat—but paradoxically, she felt trapped, unsure whether to advance or retreat. Lowering his voice, he murmured, “Yu Fei, I’m at my wit’s end. I think about you every day, all the time.” His confession sent her heart racing. Her cheeks flushed red, and though she bared her small white teeth defiantly, her response faltered: “But I don’t think about you at all!”
He tilted her chin slightly, smirking. “I know you don’t. You and Miss Luo are cut from the same cloth—masters at tormenting men.”
“Wei Wei? She’s been held captive by your King for so long, working herself to death, tortured endlessly. If anything, she’s the one being tormented, not the other way around!”
“Forget it, you have no idea how miserable Sixth Brother has it…” Suddenly, he paused. “What did you say? She didn’t meet up with you?”
“Yesterday? No.”
A fresh layer of cold sweat broke out on his forehead. “Sixth Brother planned to have dinner with her yesterday, but she stood him up at the last minute. She said she was going to see you.”
“What exactly did she say?”
“A text message. Just words.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, both their expressions darkening.