CITM - 19

Paper can’t keep a fire covered forever. When Tong Mingfang first asked Aunt Yang from Qingxi Village to make contact, she didn’t tell the matchmaker about Wen Bin’s past. She also instructed Wen Bin not to mention it. If the bride’s family found out, they might have second thoughts — after all, people around them all avoided the Wen family.

More than a year later, Ye Yun found out by chance. For a girl who had lived in a simple and honest environment until she was 19, the shocking rumors were a huge blow.

Although a fierce battle was raging inside her heart, life went on.

After the April days passed, the young women changed into bright, thin clothes. The tailor shop had picked up a lot of work lately, and Ye Yun was always busy until dark.

Many times when she came home late, she could see Bai Wenfu leaning in the corridor smoking. Sometimes their eyes met by accident, and he would glance away indifferently. He was like a mystery wrapped in shadows, making Ye Yun unable to see him clearly.

As the weather warmed, the men in the building would come downstairs for a stroll after dinner. Before news of Wen Bin’s accident spread, they would just glance at Ye Yun a few times. After Wen Bin left, their looks at her became more brazen.

The seasons changed; Ye Yun wore thinner clothes. Her slender, graceful figure caught their eyes, and their words became more lewd. They openly called her “little widow” to her face.

There’s a saying: troubles always come to a widow’s door, whether from gossip or provocation. Especially someone like Ye Yun — looking fragile and slim, but when she changed into spring clothes, her curves became full and delicate. The temptation between maiden and young woman made the men’s wicked thoughts run wild; they wished secretly to have a tender, fleeting romance with her.

Several men gathered, exchanging crude talk, chatting about the young daughter-in-law of the Bai family. They said she had no family in the city, and that the old lady of the Bai family hardly managed her now, letting her run out to be an apprentice. The more they talked, the more they joked about one night blocking Ye Yun’s way at the intersection. Their talk was shameless, and whether they actually planned anything, few could really do it.

But some exceptions existed — men with hidden lust and bold enough to act on it.

One day, as usual, Ye Yun finished her work and returned. Outside, thunder rumbled and the sky darkened early. She ran a little but still got caught in the rain; her thin shirt stuck to her body.

Just as she entered the stairwell, a shadow suddenly sprang from behind, strangling her neck and covering her mouth, dragging her into the darkness.

On the first floor of this slab-style building, there was a passage like a courtyard, but the far end was a dead end. It was usually used to store junk, and no one would go there.

Ye Yun instantly lost her balance; her muffled cries caught in her throat. She frantically hit the man’s arm, but it was as hard as iron. In the blink of an eye, he dragged her to the end of the passage.

The walls on both sides towered oppressively, and the dark sky was sliced into thin strips. The occasional flash of lightning illuminated the scene. Ye Yun’s faint calls for help were drowned out by the thunder.

The man threw Ye Yun onto a sack of rags, then pinned her down. She struggled desperately, fear flooding her brain and bloodshot eyes. The man grabbed her wrists roughly and squeezed her face, warning, “Behave yourself. I’ll let you go when I’m done. Make a fuss, and don’t blame me for hitting you.”

Ye Yun’s eyes snapped wide open — it was Feng Biao.

With a tearing sound, her shirt collar was ripped open, exposing the corset tightly wrapped around her snow-white shoulders. Feng Biao’s eyes gleamed like a beast in heat as he tore at her corset. When he couldn’t get it off, he simply groped at her waistband.

A chilling wave of despair crashed over Ye Yun — but then, suddenly, a taller figure appeared behind Feng Biao, grabbing the back of his neck and smashing his head against the wall.

Amidst terrible screams, Ye Yun was pulled up by a strong grip. Bai Wenfu’s cold, grim face appeared before her. Ye Yun grabbed him, and the last bit of strength in her body drained away instantly.

As she staggered, a cold aura slowly spread around Bai Wenfu. He straightened her collar, took off his shirt and draped it over her, saying, “Go inside. Don’t look back.”

His black tank top stretched tight over his body; heavy boots crushed gravel as his strong muscles carried unstoppable force.

Ye Yun ran home in one breath. Tong Mingfang saw her disheveled appearance and was frightened, asking what happened.

She pointed outside, lips trembling: “Big Brother… he’s downstairs…”

Before she finished, piercing screams cut through the heavy air, echoing between the buildings. Tong Mingfang hurried out and looked down.

At the same time, neighbors heard the noise and came out, crowding the corridor.

The man’s horrifying, ghostly cries shattered the night’s silence, making everyone’s skin crawl. Under absolute force, cries for mercy and sobbing were nonstop. Everyone in the building ran out, their faces full of fear and exchanging worried looks.

No one knew who shouted, “Aijuan, judging by the voice, isn’t that your husband Feng Biao?”

Feng Biao hadn’t been seen since he got off work, and he still hadn’t come home. Aijuan grabbed the railing, leaning halfway out, feeling more and more uneasy as she listened. She dashed down the stairs.

On the other side, Tong Mingfang was equally shocked and terrified, fearing that someone might get seriously hurt. At the same time, she hurried down as well.

Before either of them reached the stairway, someone shouted, “Look over there!”

A tall, broad figure wrapped in a black tank top emerged from the first-floor corridor. His stern, ruthless brows looked like a fearsome warrior from another world. In his hand, he was carrying a man who lay half-dead on the ground, groaning softly. His collar was grabbed by Bai Wenfu, who dragged him up the stairs, stepping on the onlookers’ chests with every step. The crowd held their breath in silence.

Aijuan clearly saw that the man being dragged by Bai Wenfu was her husband Feng Biao. She cried out and ran toward Bai Wenfu.

Bai Wenfu turned the corner with the limp Feng Biao and stopped in the corridor. Aijuan ran closer and suddenly caught sight of Bai Wenfu’s extremely cold and ruthless expression. The unstoppable powerful aura made her shudder inside. Her steps froze, even her cries stuck in her throat. Instinctive fear overpowered all reasoning.

Bai Wenfu raised his arm and threw the bloodied Feng Biao at Aijuan’s feet. His voice was terrifyingly harsh, as if coming from hell itself, speaking each word clearly to the woman in front of him: “This is what he deserved.”

He then raised his voice, his gaze fixed on Feng Biao, but his words echoed throughout the entire building’s corridors:

“If anyone ever lays a hand on my family again, it won’t just be blood they see.”

His tall figure stood in the corridor, his muscles taut and defined. The wind howled, thunder rumbled, and though the crowd was huge, no one dared to make a sound.

If anyone else said those words, it might sound like just a threat, but this was Bai Wenfu—a man who carried a death sentence on his back. If he said it, he could definitely do it, and no one doubted it.

As he turned around, the frozen crowd finally stirred and whispered among themselves. Of course, no one believed Feng Biao was foolish enough to pick a fight with Bai Wenfu for no reason. Considering Feng Biao’s usual womanizing nature, some quickly guessed what had happened.

Among the Bai family’s three men, Feng Biao wouldn’t dare mess with the elderly woman Tong Mingfang. The only possibility was that he had ill intentions toward the beautiful Ye Yun.

This speculation quickly spread among the neighbors. Xiao Liuzi, with animated excitement, whispered to the men gathered downstairs, “Brother Feng always said she looked soft and delicate—it must be that little widow.”

Coincidentally, Bai Wenfu, who had just come up from downstairs, heard this. He paused and glared sharply at Xiao Liuzi. The men downstairs kept signaling Xiao Liuzi with their eyes. Feeling the chill, Xiao Liuzi’s face stiffened, and he turned aside.

Bai Wenfu’s voice carried a strong sense of oppression: “Don’t let me hear those three words again. Do you think our Bai family has no men left?”

Terrified, Xiao Liuzi clasped his hands together and promised never to say it again.

Among the women standing nearby, Aunt Huang whispered quietly, “What did the Bai family’s eldest mean by that?”

Lü Ping’s mother nudged Lü Ping’s father, about to say something, but Lü Ping’s grandmother shot her a sharp look. Lü Ping withdrew her gaze from Aijuan and looked at Bai Wenfu.

What Bai Wenfu was really saying was that the Bai family still had men, and outsiders shouldn’t think of bullying the Bai family’s women.

Or, he was saying that with him around, Ye Yun would never become a widow.

These two very different interpretations left people’s minds wandering, and each person might interpret it differently. But at this moment, no one responded to Aunt Huang’s words.

Bai Wenfu strode into the house and said to Tong Mingfang, “Boil some hot water.” After giving his instruction, he stepped inside and closed the door.

Ye Yun, wrapped in Bai Wenfu’s shirt, curled up by the table. Her damp, messy hair hung down in front of her. She could hear everything happening outside clearly and felt how fearful the building’s residents were of Bai Wenfu.

When he came in, Ye Yun’s body trembled slightly. Bai Wenfu noticed the subtle movement, his face tensed, and without a word, he poured warm water and carried it into her room.

By the time Tong Mingfang brought the boiled water in, Ye Yun had changed out of her dirty clothes and cleaned herself. She carried the basin out. Bai Wenfu stood at the door, took the basin from her, and said, “Go lie down on the bed and let your hair down.”

Ye Yun was still dazed from the shock but obediently climbed onto the bed.

Bai Wenfu refilled the basin with clean hot water, took a stool to sit by the bed, and placed the basin down. He found Ye Yun’s usual shampoo and sat down.

Tong Mingfang had never seen her eldest son care for a woman like this. She hurried forward, rolling up her sleeves: “Let me wash it.”

Unexpectedly, Bai Wenfu didn’t even raise his eyelids and replied calmly, “No need.”

Tong Mingfang’s sleeves were halfway rolled up, but Bai Wenfu’s authoritative tone left her with nothing to say. She just stood aside and watched. Bai Wenfu glanced at her and said, “If you have nothing else, boil more hot water later.”

After Tong Mingfang left, Bai Wenfu smoothed Ye Yun’s half-wet long hair. Ye Yun closed her eyes, her face pale and bloodless. She shrank like a frightened bird when he touched her.

Bai Wenfu frowned and lowered his voice, trying to soothe her: “It’s okay now. Rest easy.”

His tone was like coaxing a child, and Ye Yun finally let down her guard.

He placed a warm towel on her head, gently pressing and massaging it—not too hard—targeting the nerve endings on her scalp, just enough to ease her stress and anxiety.

As the towel’s temperature dropped, he reheated it and repeated the process. Gradually, Ye Yun’s body relaxed, and her complexion improved. After the intense fright, exhaustion set in quickly, and soon her breathing softened.

Tong Mingfang quietly came in with hot water and asked, “Is she asleep?”

Bai Wenfu nodded. After washing and drying her hair, he adjusted her position, picked up the basin, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Tong Mingfang sat at the table, cursing and swearing at Feng Biao’s entire ancestral line. Bai Wenfu grew annoyed and told her to go to bed.

She still worried and said, “Ye Yun didn’t eat tonight. If she wakes up later...”

“I’ll stay with her.”

Bai Wenfu lowered his head, put a cigarette between his lips, and went out to the corridor. Tong Mingfang watched her son’s back, her thoughts swirling but finally suppressed them.