When Chu Beize returned from the hospital that evening, he came back a different man — sullen, reeking of alcohol, his temper raw. The call to Ye Yanxi had set him alight; with drink loosening his tongue and his pride in flames, he could have passed for a raging dog.
He kicked the bedroom door open. He Man, who had been lying down trying to rest, flinched at the crash and sat up, blinking owlishly at him. She was in a pitiful state — the bruises and cuts from earlier still fresh, her hands wrapped in layers of bandages from glass. Even now, her gaze darted to Chu Beize’s reddened eyes and froze; memories of past violence tightened her chest like a vise.
“You… what do you think you’re doing?” she whispered.
“Doing?” Chu Beize spat, fury coiling his words. “This is my home. I’ll be wherever I want. Don’t think that because you married into the Chu family you can boss me around.” His voice was soaked in hate, as if she were nothing but a counterfeit offered by the He family to mock him — an insult he could not forgive.
He Man’s whole body trembled. When a maid at the door dared to plead for her — “Master, it’s late…” — Chu’s temper snapped. He shoved the maid down, dragged her up by the collar, and the scene that followed was brutal and humiliating. I will not recount the depravity in detail here; what matters is that the maid was left broken on the floor, the marble beneath her stained, and He Man’s body bore fresh marks of cruelty. The household guards heard the cries but no one intervened.
When Chu finally turned his attention back to He Man, his face wore a bloodless, cruel smile. “You’re my wife,” he said. “What I do is my right.” Disgust and fear made her shrink into the corner. She had nothing to fight with — just a small, battered body and two legs that barely obeyed her.
By the time dawn scraped pale light across the sky, He Man had been pushed past endurance. She had been violated and humiliated repeatedly through the night, each insult, each blow, a new brand on her spirit. When she finally blacked out she was bruised and bloodied, the white of her skin mottled with dark welts.
Waking into that ruin, she felt one thought louder than any other: better to be dead than live like this. With great effort, she dragged herself to the bedside table, slammed a teacup until it shattered, and brought a shard to her wrist. The motion was clumsy, despair-fueled. The guards were watching her around the clock; they found her and stopped her attempt before it could finish. Even so, she could not leave the Chu estate. The house was a cage — members of the world outside cut off from her like an unreachable shore.
At the hospital, morning found the ward quiet and sunlit. He Chuyan called early to check on Ye Yanxi; Xiao Yu answered for her. It happened to be Ye Yanxi’s birthday. With business pulling him away, Xiao Yu told He Chuyan about Ye Yanxi’s hospitalization and her pregnancy. He Chuyan was thrilled and, without a second thought, wanted to take leave and come sit with her.
Du Guo, when he heard the news, wanted to visit too, but mandatory duties at the Xiao Corporation made taking the full day off impossible; he managed only the afternoon.
Ye Yanxi woke from a peaceful nap to find He Chuyan’s bright face smiling over her. He’d come because Xiao Yu had insisted she stay and rest. Ye Yanxi had been thinking, at first, she might still go to the office that afternoon — the Italian clients, the shifting schedules — but He Chuyan phoned Xiao Yu to report, and Xiao Yu’s voice over the line was not negotiable: stay in the hospital, do nothing. She laughed softly, teasingly resigned, and put the idea aside.
After his business dinner, Xiao Yu arranged to meet Ye Junze for lunch. Ye Junze arrived surprised but composed; when he walked into the restaurant, Xiao Yu himself rose to greet him and, with an almost absurd civility, pulled out a chair like a practiced host. “Uncle, please sit.”
Ye Junze blinked at the sudden warmth. “I can manage.”
Xiao Yu sat across from him and, with deliberate care, ordered a pot of West Lake Dragon Well — a tea he knew Ye Junze preferred. “I heard you like this,” he said, handing over the cup.
Ye Junze’s eyes flicked to the cup and then back to him. He was calm, but the lines at the corners of his mouth held a reserve. “Xiao Yu, even though Yanxi isn’t my biological daughter, I’ve treated her as my own since I brought her home from the orphanage. I’ve always supported her.”
“You know more than you think,” Xiao Yu said, smiling. He seemed pleased by the topic; the news he carried brightened him. “I didn’t intend to announce anything so soon, but circumstances changed. I’ll make it official — I will marry Yanxi.”
Ye Junze’s expression shifted through surprise to a guarded skepticism. “You’re serious about her?”
“I’m serious,” Xiao Yu replied. “And there’s more — Yanxi is pregnant.”
Those words landed like a splash of cold water. Ye Junze stared, incredulous, his tea forgotten. This was not the angle he’d expected when he came to talk. He had intended to negotiate, perhaps to chide Xiao Yu for his haste. Instead, the path was already set before him.
After a long silence, Ye Junze set one condition — a demand born of his concern, something he felt he could not forgo if he was to truly hand Yanxi over. It was not a trivial request; he knew it might seem excessive. But to him it was the only way to protect the girl he loved like a daughter. Xiao Yu listened, eyes narrowing for a beat, then nodded without hesitation. “Agreed,” he said.
Back in the hospital room that afternoon, He Chuyan and Ye Yanxi dozed off in the quiet of the single ward, exhausted by the last days’ events. Ye Yanxi’s head tilted first, then He Chuyan’s eyelids drooped until they too surrendered to sleep.
Du Guo arrived breathless, clutching the address and the room number He Chuyan had sent. He hesitated at the door, looking in at the two sleeping figures, a relieved smile beginning to form.
Before he could step forward, a cold voice cut through the corridor: “Who are you? Move aside.”
Du Guo turned, startled. Standing there, composed and severe, was Huo Lin.