I don't want your help
Knowing that gambling and money‑laundering were happening in the nearby waters, Bai Wenxi had quietly asked Min Tete on the black market to get her a small pistol. She'd even taken a crash course in shooting — though she hadn't expected Jiang Beihuai to be able to use one as well, and with unnerving accuracy.
"Beihuai, are those two drifting farther out?" Bai Wenxi asked from the navigation console, watching a tiny green blip crawl southeast across the screen.
"They'll probably get picked up soon," Jiang Beihuai answered. Bai Wenxi sniffed, contemptuous. "I've already radioed the rescue team about what those two did. As soon as they're ashore they'll be locked up."
A blow from the skinny man’s knife hilt had left a swollen bruise on Jiang Beihuai's abdomen. He ground his teeth and pressed at it outside the cabin until the pain eased enough for him to plaster on a calm face and walk over to her.
"You actually know your way around a chart?" he said, surprised, and gave her a thumbs up. "That usually takes formal training, doesn't it?"
Bai Wenxi rubbed her nose, embarrassed. "Hardly. I just watched my father do it a few times when he navigated."
The pain in Jiang Beihuai's belly throbbed again, and a vague, spreading ache crawled through him. He looked at her and, oddly moved, said, "You're the bravest woman I've ever met..." His voice came out dry and rough, like gravel. "Do you really think we can get to Moon Island safely?"
Bai Wenxi watched the blip move steadily and smiled with the certainty of someone who had taken this route before. "I've sailed this line a hundred times. I promise — we'll make it."
He rummaged through the storage locker and found only a few medicated plasters. He pressed them over the bruise and massaged until the swelling receded a touch. Bai Wenxi pulled sunglasses from her purse, perched them on her nose, and waved a small flag like a practiced captain.
"There's a reef nine kilometers ahead. We skirt it and keep going."
Seeing her swagger now, he couldn't help but remember how, just moments ago, she had curled into herself trembling with shock. "No wonder you had the nerve to break the engagement with the Zhangs," he said pointedly. "You don't strike me as a conventional lady."
He bent to gather the credit cards and business cards scattered across the floor and muttered to himself, "No one I know has more guts than you."
Bai Wenxi knew he still harbored a lot of resentment toward her, but depending on someone else's protection had never been her first choice.
"To be honest, I'm tired of playing the mild, obliging heiress," she said.
His face froze. For a long moment he stared, speechless. He must have been hearing something he wasn't prepared for, because he blinked slowly and asked, as if to catch the words again, "Say that one more time."
Ever since the wedding, Bai Wenxi had felt a deep, instinctual fear of Jiang Beihuai — a sense that he could see right through her, that his disapproval could make her disappear. But the more she got to know him, the less monstrous he seemed. His cruelty toward others felt more like armor than cruelty: precise, measured. Since he had discovered Bai Yunxi’s true identity, he had refrained from doing anything truly cruel to her. He raised her up, then put her down gently, every time.
That restraint gave her the courage to be blunt. "If my father hadn't died suddenly and left that mountain of debt, I would have preferred a quiet, orderly life." She watched his expression go darker and darker until it looked as if someone had smeared soot across his face. Her mouth tasted bitter. "Even though I ended up marrying you in the end, choosing to break the engagement with the Zhang family was the first decision I ever made for myself."
"I paid the debts by working as a bank clerk, took their disdain, and then threw myself into planning a high‑caliber exhibition. I felt like my soul was soaring over a stormy sea."
She took a shaky breath. "I am grateful you saved me when it mattered — more than once. But some things I have to face on my own. I can't always lean on you."
Jiang Beihuai watched her talk in a tangle of emotions. Her words, drawn out and raw, made his temper itch to clamp her mouth shut. But he remembered the look of abandonment he'd once seen flash across her face when he'd barged into her room without permission. He swallowed his urge.
"Fine. I won't help," he interrupted, solemn. "Sometimes blind acceptance of someone else's help is its own kind of foolishness."
He lifted one brow. "I admire your courage, and I'm willing to stand behind it." His eyes burned with an intense, strange light. "You're my wife. I love you. I respect you."
He shrugged helplessly. "If you think doing everything yourself proves your independence, I'll respect that."
Bai Wenxi stamped her foot. "I never said everything—"
She had only taken two steps forward when the boat lurched violently.
"What is it?" he snapped, sprang to her, and caught her in his arms as the little boat pitched and rolled.
"Put on your life jacket!" he ordered.
Bai Wenxi snapped to, panic hitting like a cold wave. She guessed they'd struck the reef. She had no skill for handling a crisis like this. Jiang Beihuai buckled the life jacket on her first, then strapped one on himself and cinched a safety line around their waists.
"Look, look," Bai Wenxi cried, clapping his shoulder and pointing where the sky met the sea like a child. "Moon Island — we're almost there!" She looped an arm around his neck, giddy with the hope they'd escaped danger.
The boat was old and badly maintained; its crew made money cheating passengers or smuggling small cargoes, not repairing hulls. When the reef struck, the hull began to break apart fast. If they hadn't had life jackets, both of them would have been swept into the undertow.
Cold, bone‑biting water knocked them under. Luckily, they both could swim and the jackets kept them afloat long enough.
Bai Wenxi's strength was ebbing with each wave. Jiang Beihuai grabbed the safety strap and, using every ounce of his energy, hauled them toward shore.
"Ugh — this is awful," Bai Wenxi managed, spitting salty water and feeling her limbs go numb. The strap cut across her waist, forcing her to bob forward. Afraid to let him tire, she bit her lower lip hard until it tasted of blood and clarity returned for a moment.
"Beihuai, move your strokes in time with mine. We'll go faster if we sync," she panted in ragged bursts.
She laughed weakly at herself. "I just said I wouldn't accept your help, and now look at me..." Blood trickled from the torn corner of her lip. The brief spark of lucidity began to fade.