The door clicked shut behind her.
Su Yue instinctively reached for the handle and twisted.
Click.
She froze.
Locked.
A dull ache began to pulse behind her temples, each throb aligning with the piercing shrill of the phone pressed to her ear. The ringing had become relentless—like a shriek in her skull—clashing with her growing anxiety. She hung up. Eyes lifting to the signboard above the door, realization struck her hard.
She spun on her heel and ran.
Out of the hall, into the open, Su Yue dashed along the hotel’s exterior wall, desperate, breath hitching with every step. The cold air bit at her lungs, and her pace faltered. She wasn’t used to this—running, chasing. She had always preferred stillness over exertion. Now, every muscle burned from the effort.
Turning a corner near the edge of the hotel, her frantic steps skidded to a halt.
There. Just a few feet ahead.
Jiang Haoyan was being restrained by a man.
Not far from them stood another figure—a slightly overweight man gripping a broom handle with both hands. His posture was rigid, his arms raised high, and the broom was swinging down with vicious force toward another man—his back perfectly straight, unyielding.
Jiang Ci.
“Stop!”
Her voice, usually soft and low like a gentle murmur, cracked into the air—hoarse, sharp, desperate.
She lunged forward.
The group of men encircling Jiang Ci were momentarily stunned. Even the broom stopped mid-air, hovering like a threat unfinished.
Xie Fei, the man at the center, frowned at the unexpected interruption. His eyes narrowed at Su Yue, unfamiliar and unwelcome. He sneered, voice laced with contempt. “Little girl, this isn’t your business. Don’t poke your nose where it doesn’t belong. You’ll regret it.”
But Su Yue didn’t falter. She rushed to Jiang Ci’s side, her phone clutched tightly in her hand, voice trembling with worry. “Jiang Ci, are you alright?”
Jiang Ci’s lips pressed into a thin line. He instinctively moved to shove away the hand that touched him—only to pause. Her voice, though quivering, reached him.
“I’m fine,” he said coldly, the words clipped and stiff.
Su Yue searched his face, trying to see through the mask he wore so well. His expression was blank, unreadable—no signs of injury, no blood or bruises. But his silence screamed louder than words. He was furious.
Xie Fei’s gaze flickered with surprise. He had assumed the woman who barged in was just some reckless passerby trying to play the hero. But now, standing protectively beside Jiang Ci, it was obvious—she knew him.
Even more interesting—he meant something to her.
“Well, well,” he drawled, a wicked glint in his eyes. “So she knows Young Master Jiang. That’s quite convenient. Now we’ve got another hostage.”
Su Yue’s dark, beautiful eyes turned sharp as daggers. She stepped forward, shielding Jiang Ci as her expression turned icy. “What do you want?” she asked coldly.
Xie Fei chuckled without humor. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re just having a bit of fun with Young Master Jiang here. I suggest you step aside, missy. Things could get ugly.”
Su Yue’s lips curled into a cold sneer. She wasn’t stupid—she knew the power of names and families in this city. Her voice, though still soft, now carried an edge like a sharpened blade.
“I don’t know how my husband offended you,” she said slowly, her gaze unwavering, “but going after him like this… clearly, you aren’t afraid of the Jiang family.” Her tone dropped. “I take it that means you’re not afraid of the Su family either?”
At her words, Jiang Ci’s eyes shifted.
Her husband?
She was trembling slightly—he could feel it through her hand gripping his arm.
Was she afraid?
His brows furrowed.
If she’s afraid, why isn’t she running?
The men across from them blinked, stunned.
Husband? Su family?
They had heard Jiang Ci married a daughter from the Su family—but the gossip painted her as dark-skinned, fat, and horrendously unattractive. Everyone had laughed behind Jiang Ci’s back, mocking the once-noble heir for falling so low.
But the woman standing before them now—she was none of those things.
Slender and fair-skinned, she carried herself with quiet elegance and the poised defiance of someone who was used to being obeyed.
One of the thugs hesitated. “You… you’re the Su family’s daughter?”
“Of course I am,” Su Yue snapped, eyes gleaming. “You think the Guo family lets just anyone in? Jiang Ci is my husband. Touching him is the same as touching me. And my father—he dotes on me more than anything. If I tell him what happened today, not one of you will walk away unscathed.”
She stood tall, chin lifted, radiating confidence and cruelty. There was no need to call the police—people like this didn’t fear law enforcement. What they did fear, however, was losing everything under the crushing weight of family pressure.
Everyone in City B knew: Su Jindong adored his wife and daughter. Years ago, when the Su family had collapsed, he had rebuilt everything from the ashes with nothing but ruthless cunning. In the business world, he and Jiang Ci were two of the most feared names—Jiang for his cold-blooded tactics, Su Jindong for being a white-faced fox who never lost.
There was even a story: a wealthy man once mocked Su Jindong’s daughter at a banquet, calling her ugly and making her cry. Days later, the man was shipped off overseas by his own family—banished, exiled. In their world, that was a fate worse than death.
Xie Fei gritted his teeth.
He hadn’t expected this.
Just moments ago, Jiang Ci had been like a dog underfoot—blind and seemingly helpless. Xie Fei thought he could humiliate him with a few beatings, vent a little frustration, and walk away feeling triumphant.
And yet, this blind man had dodged their attacks with uncanny precision, even Zeng Cheng’s carefully aimed blows. It was as if his ears were honed to instinct.
And now, her.
Su Jindong’s daughter.
Xie Fei stared at her, then muttered a curse under his breath. With a last glare, he roughly shoved Jiang Haoyan to the ground. “Let’s go.”
He never meant to take on the Su family. This was just a whim—an opportunity to mock a fallen heir. He hadn’t expected things to spiral.
Sure, he hadn’t made Jiang Ci bark like a dog like he wanted, but watching the once-glorious young master reduced to being protected by a woman—he’d take that as enough humiliation for now.
The group turned and left.
As soon as they were gone, Jiang Haoyan ran straight to Jiang Ci, tears streaking down his round cheeks. “Daddy, it hurts,” he sobbed, tiny fists clenched, voice trembling with fear.
Su Yue stepped forward and scooped him up. This time, unlike before, the child didn’t resist.
Instead, he clung to her tightly, arms wrapping around her neck, burying his face in her shoulder.
She gently rubbed his back, her voice low and soothing. “It’s okay now… everything’s okay.” Slowly, the tension in his small body eased, his sobs quieting as his fear melted into her embrace.
Su Yue looked back at Jiang Ci. “Where did they hit you? Are you hurt?”
She tried to get closer, but carrying Xiao Haohao made it difficult to examine him properly.
Jiang Ci’s expression remained cold and unreadable.
When he finally spoke, his voice was laced with sarcasm.
“You’re late.”
Su Yue’s heart sank. He was angry.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, eyes full of guilt. “I should’ve come for you sooner.”
Jiang Ci gave a scoffing snort. “You didn’t even get to see me hit them.” His tone was resentful—almost like a child upset his favorite trick had gone unnoticed.
Su Yue blinked in confusion. “Huh?”
Jiang Ci straightened, and despite the lingering tension in his face, a wicked smile curved his lips.
“Even if I’m blind,” he said slowly, his voice low and deliberate, “those fools are still no match for me.”
Su Yue finally understood what he meant—this man was truly arrogant!
She wanted to reason with him. No matter how powerful he was, he shouldn’t put himself in danger like that. The right thing to do was to call for help, not face trouble alone. But before she could speak her mind, her eyes caught sight of his hand.
“Jiang Ci, your hand… it’s bleeding.”
Jiang Ci glanced at it nonchalantly. “Just a scratch. Got grazed by them.”
“No, this isn’t just a scratch!” Su Yue’s brows knitted tightly as she stepped closer. “We need to disinfect that. I’m taking you to the hospital to get it properly bandaged.”
Jiang Ci’s expression darkened with irritation. “You think I’d let some stranger touch my hand?”
Su Yue was taken aback. Right… she’d nearly forgotten. Jiang Ci didn’t like people touching him.
She opened her mouth to argue—to tell him not to act like a child—but paused. Looking at his slightly pursed lips and the stubborn set of his jaw, Su Yue let out a soft sigh. Her voice lowered, gentle and coaxing.
“Then… can I help you bandage it?” Her tone was soothing, like warm sunlight. “You’re hurt. You don’t have to act so tough and let it bleed like this.”
Jiang Ci gave her a lazy glance, his lips lifting in a careless smirk. “It’s not like I’ll die again.”
“But it must hurt,” Su Yue murmured, her eyes soft as they fell on the wounded back of his hand. “It hurts just to look at it. I feel uncomfortable watching it.”
She had wanted to drag him straight to the hospital, but he refused—his temper more unruly than little Haohao’s. With no choice, Su Yue took him back to the Jiang residence instead. On the way, she called her father and explained what had happened.
Su Jindong was deeply alarmed, asking if Su Yue had been hurt, his voice turning serious as he promised to investigate the surveillance footage and deal with those responsible.
When they returned to the Xiaoyang Building, Su Yue noticed how Jiang Ci’s room had reverted to its former state—dark, cold, and lifeless. The heavy curtains shut out the light, and the air was stale with gloom.
She didn’t hesitate. She threw open the curtains, flooding the room with sunlight, and left the door ajar to let the air in.
“Jiang Ci, give me your hand.” Su Yue fetched the medicine box, pulled over a chair, and sat down in front of him.
Jiang Ci leaned back lazily in his seat. He was still dressed in that tailored black suit, the collar of his crisp white shirt buttoned all the way up. He looked strict and abstinent, as cold as a sculpture.
Su Yue didn’t look up at him. Instead, she lowered her gaze and dipped a cotton swab in disinfectant. Her hands were careful as she applied the medicine.
Compared to hers, Jiang Ci’s hands were so large.
Su Yue couldn’t help but secretly stretch out her own hand to compare. Each of his fingers was longer than hers, the bones sharply defined. His skin was fair and slender, his hands beautiful—no wonder he didn’t like others touching them.
“Still mad?” Su Yue asked softly, gently dabbing the medicine onto the wound while blowing cool air on it to ease the sting.
The back of his hand tingled, cool and strangely comfortable. Jiang Ci frowned, refusing to admit it. “No.”
“I’ve already told my dad. He’ll make sure those people are punished,” she said gently. “Don’t be angry anymore, okay?”
Jiang Ci’s fingers, resting lightly on the table, twitched. He gave a cold laugh. “You think this is like some squabble between elementary school kids? Tattling to the parents?”
He looked away. “Nosy.”
Su Yue’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I’m nosy?” This man!
She couldn’t take it anymore. She tossed the cotton swab aside and glared at him. “If I hadn’t shown up, you could’ve been—” She bit her lip, holding back the harsh words. “Fine. I won’t help you with the medicine anymore. And don’t even think about eating the mango cake later!”
She stood up, packing the medicine box, intending to go check on Xiao Haohao next door.
But the very next second, she suddenly lost her balance and fell forward, crashing straight into Jiang Ci’s arms.
His large hand had seized her wrist. It was cold—unexpectedly so—and the touch sent a sharp pain through her skin where calluses met softness.
Held tightly at the waist, Su Yue was momentarily stunned. Jiang Ci hadn’t expected her to be so light, so soft. He’d barely used any force and she’d tumbled into his arms like a ball of cotton.
“What are you doing? Why did you pull me?” Su Yue’s cheek brushed against the cool buttons of his shirt. The contact was cold, but her face burned with heat.
Now that he had her in his arms, Jiang Ci wasn’t in a hurry to let go. He raised a brow, a smile playing on his lips as his fingers gently pressed against the soft curve of her waist. “I want to eat mango cake.”
“You called me nosy and now you want mango cake?” Su Yue tried to get up.
“Oh? You didn’t like that word?” Jiang Ci lowered his head, inhaling the soft scent of milk on her body. She smelled so good. And she was so soft… He could get used to this. She made a perfect pillow.
“I’m sorry,” he said, not missing a beat. “I didn’t have breakfast. And I skipped lunch. So now, I want two mango cakes.”
Su Yue was speechless. Was this man even capable of holding a grudge for more than a few minutes?
She rolled her eyes. “Then stop being angry.”
“I’m not angry,” Jiang Ci said, squeezing her waist again like he was testing it. His tone was teasing, “Su Yue, are you losing weight again? You’re about to turn into a skeleton.”
“If you don’t get angry, I won’t lose weight!” she retorted.
Su Yue paused to calculate. She currently weighed 110 pounds. If Jiang Ci stayed angry, she’d likely drop to 105 pounds by tomorrow. That was a perfect figure… but if this kept up, she’d wither into nothing!
A chill crept up her spine at the thought.
Suddenly nervous, she stopped struggling and stayed curled up in Jiang Ci’s arms. Her voice turned soft, carrying a hint of vulnerability. “Jiang Ci… can you stop getting angry so easily? When you’re upset… I feel awful too.”
Jiang Ci looked down at her. The woman in his arms was warm, fragrant, and unbelievably soft. Even her voice was so sweet it melted into his bones. Holding her like this… it felt good. Surprisingly good.
A system notification echoed in her mind:
Angry Value: 0.
Su Yue blinked up at him, her eyes bright with joy.