The two of them left Chen Yi behind.
He turned on the TV, his eyes fixed on a nonsensical soap opera, and lounged lazily on the sofa to smoke. But the cigarette remained unsmoked, its ember flickering at his fingertips.
An hour and a half later, Miao Jing returned alone after dinner. Wrinkling her nose at the smoky air, she asked Chen Yi why he was still there.
"Aren’t you going to the billiards hall today?"
Chen Yi gave a noncommittal hum, turned off the TV, and pinched his cigarette as he headed to the balcony. Miao Jing went to her room but soon reappeared, having changed into loose-fitting T-shirt and pants. She carried a pile of dirty laundry and tossed it into the washing machine on the balcony.
Each claimed a corner of the balcony.
With her back to him, Miao Jing asked, "Do you have any dark-colored clothes to wash? These two pieces of mine aren’t enough for a full load."
"Yeah." His reply was lazy. Then he reached down, grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, and pulled it over his head in one swift motion. First came a glimpse of his narrow waist, cinched by gray drawstring sweatpants, then his flat, firm abdomen, the subtle ridges of muscle, the sculpted chest rising in a slope, and finally the prominent collarbones, throat, and neck—all sun-kissed skin.
The black T-shirt flew through the air and landed squarely on Miao Jing’s head, plunging her vision into darkness. The fabric carried his body heat, the strong scent of sweat and tobacco, mingled with the faint fragrance of soap and skin.
Her heart wavered, and the hand holding the detergent bottle trembled slightly. She felt the liquid spill over her fingers.
"Chen Yi!!" Her voice quivered like ripples disturbing a calm lake.
The shirt completely covered her head and shoulders. Miao Jing heard his low, husky, teasing laugh, followed by his footsteps approaching. He stopped just behind her, close enough for her to feel the weight of his presence and the scorching heat radiating from his body.
He reached out a hand, brushed past her shoulder, and roughly tugged the T-shirt off her head. The fabric slid down, tousling her hair and leaving strands scattered across her face. His elbow bumped against her shoulder—hard bone against soft flesh. She stayed silent until the last bit of cloth slipped from her cheek and her vision cleared. The shirt dangled from his hand before his slender fingers released it, letting it drop into the washing machine.
Her face burned, her body stiff. She sensed him grinning behind her—a dazzling, unrestrained, roguish smile that bloomed silently in the dim evening, blending with the lingering autumn warmth, vibrant and steaming with life.
"Alright, you can wash now."
He turned and went back inside, whistling softly.
Chapter 12: Expect Me to Support You? Not a Chance
The man had fled, and Miao Jing was intercepted by Chen Yi and Bo Zai.
Back then, Chen Yi’s methods were still unrefined, his heart still too soft. Fearing that Wei Mingzhen might abscond with the money, he had secretly arranged for someone to keep an eye on the mother and daughter. He didn’t care much about Wei Mingzhen’s antics, as long as Miao Jing was closely watched. She spent her days at school, surrounded by countless eyes. The slightest suspicious move would make it easy to catch her.
When Wei Mingzhen slipped away to the train station through convoluted means, Chen Yi sensed something amiss and rushed to the school. There, he witnessed the man who had come to pick up Miao Jing fleeing in panic. Feigning innocence, Chen Yi casually slung an arm over Miao Jing’s shoulder and calmly dealt with the school security guards. He demonstrated thorough knowledge of Miao Jing’s class, student ID, grades, homeroom teacher, home address, and family situation. And just like that, he led the dazed Miao Jing away.Out of nowhere, a black heavy-duty motorcycle appeared. With a face like thunder, Chen Yi shoved Miao Jing onto the backseat. Trembling and terrified, she stared blankly at his grim, darkened expression, unsure where he was taking her.
The helmet slammed against her head, making her wince in pain.
"Stay put. Let's go!"
Forced onto the motorcycle, Miao Jing clung to the edge of his jacket with trembling hands as the engine roared to life. The deafening noise filled her ears, and she felt the motorcycle speeding recklessly through the streets until it finally screeched to a halt at the train station—Chen Yi had brought her here to find Wei Mingzhen and chase down that man. Dragging Miao Jing by her school uniform, he combed through the ticket hall, waiting area, and platforms while frantically calling Wei Mingzhen.
Her daughter was in his hands.
Wei Mingzhen’s phone was off, and there was no trace of her anywhere. Perhaps, as the man had said, she had already taken the earliest train and left. The man had vanished too. Chen Yi’s expression grew increasingly cold and menacing, his tone turning harsher as he interrogated Miao Jing: "Where’s your mother? Where did she go?"
"I don’t know…"
"You don’t know where she went?!" His eyes blazed with fury as he gripped her slender shoulders and roared, "How would she come to pick you up if you don’t know? Speak! Where is she?"
No matter how Chen Yi threatened or intimidated her, Miao Jing could only shake her head and repeat that she didn’t know. Her small, delicate face was as pale as paper, her lips dry and colorless. Her dark eyes were filled with confusion and fear as she stumbled along beside him, overwhelmed by both terror and bewilderment.
She truly had no idea.
Unable to find anyone at the train station, they returned home. Chen Yi’s iron-like grip hauled her upstairs, and Miao Jing collapsed onto the sofa, trembling as she watched him pacing like an enraged lion. His face was so dark and twisted it was almost unrecognizable, as if he might lunge at her any second and sink his teeth into her throat.
With a cold, impatient demeanor, Chen Yi relentlessly pressed Miao Jing—
How much money had Wei Mingzhen taken?
What had that man done?
How had the mother and daughter planned this? How did they communicate and coordinate?
Miao Jing’s expression remained numb as she curled into a ball, her lips quivering. She could only utter the same four words: "I don’t know."
"Say 'I don’t know' one more time, damn it!" Chen Yi’s eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging at his temples as he clenched his fist and swung. Miao Jing let out a sharp cry, hunching her shoulders and squeezing her eyes shut. Her long, dark lashes trembled against her cheeks, making her look pitiful and fragile.
"You don’t know?" He let out a cold, mocking laugh and threw his phone at her. "Call your mother back. If she doesn’t return, I—"
Chen Yi suddenly leaned in, his sharp features magnified in her vision. His eyes were like daggers, gleaming with a bloodthirsty chill, his tone sinister and biting: "I’ll kill you!"
Trembling, she bit her lip and lowered her head, tears welling in her eyes but refusing to fall.
With Chen Yi watching her like a hawk, Miao Jing didn’t dare disobey. She dialed Wei Mingzhen’s number dozens of times, but the line remained dead. Chen Yi ordered her to send text messages, and she typed until her fingers ached, yet there was still no response.
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