Chapter 24: Break His Leg

Inside the bedroom, Wen Zhixia locked the door behind her and took a long, hot shower. Steam still clung to her as she sat before the mirror, her damp hair wrapped in a shower cap, brow furrowed as she reflected on what had just happened.

Click, click, click.

Gu Pingsheng turned the doorknob from outside, but the lock held fast.

“Xia Xia, come out for dinner.”

Wen Zhixia glanced toward the door, unmoved.

“I’m going to count to five. If you don’t open the door, I’ll use the spare key.” He jingled the key loudly for emphasis.

Wen Zhixia couldn’t understand where he got so many spare keys—perhaps he’d been a locksmith in a past life.

“Five.”

“Four.”

“Three.”

She turned her back to the door, thinking out of sight, out of mind.

Click. The door swung open halfway through his countdown.

He leaned elegantly against the doorframe, his sharp brows raised slightly. “Are you planning to ignore me now?”

“Senior Gu, do you really need me among all the others?”

He chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her from behind. His cool lips pressed against her earlobe, teeth grazing it gently, making her shiver faintly in his embrace.

“I’ve already explained everything. Still giving me the cold shoulder, hmm?”

She tried to push him away, to no avail. “Let go.”

He breathed in deeply against her slender neck. “You smell wonderful. Keep me company for another shower.”

“If you want a shower, take one yourself. Leave me alone.” She tried to pry his arms away and walk off.

But Gu Pingsheng pulled her back, using his strength to scoop her up and carry her straight into the bathroom.

“Gu—mmph…”

“Gu Pingsheng, you bastard!”

He only laughed, the mood far too perfect for anger. “Is she really worth your anger? Xia Xia, you said you love me…”

The air thickened with mist, as though veiled by a gossamer curtain.

They ate dinner in bed that evening. Satisfied, he brought the food up from downstairs, coaxed her into eating, and massaged her waist with a smile lingering on his lips as she glared at him in mock annoyance.

“Still uncomfortable?”

She ignored him. “Go away. You’re so annoying.”

He laughed softly, set the bowl aside, lifted the covers, and slipped into bed behind her, pulling her gently into his arms.

In the middle of the night.

After Wen Zhixia had fallen deeply asleep, Gu Pingsheng opened his eyes. His fingers traced her peaceful features. Wen Zhixia, you’re mine—for this life, and every one after.

A few moments later, he slid on his robe and went downstairs.

As soon as he turned on his phone, a flurry of message notifications appeared. Zhao Fuhe had called him dozens of times.

“Senior, cough… please, I’m begging you, let my brother go. He hasn’t done anything wrong. If you’re angry, blame me instead.” Zhao Fuhe pleaded between coughs.

Gu Pingsheng slowly traced a finger along the back of his phone. “Not feeling well?”

“I got caught in the rain—have a bit of a fever. Senior, could you come see me?” Her voice was hoarse, tinged with hope.

“Take some medicine and look after yourself. If your fever doesn’t break by morning, I’ll take you to the hospital,” he replied.

Zhao Fuhe coughed softly, a smile of relief in her voice, now even gentler. “I knew you wouldn’t ignore me, Senior… But my brother—could you let him off this time? I can’t think of anything else, I can’t even sleep… cough, cough…”

Gu Pingsheng gazed out the window into the darkness. After a few seconds, he said, “Tomorrow, I’ll arrange for a lawyer to bail him out.”

Zhao Fuhe’s voice lit up with surprise. “Thank you, Senior, on behalf of my brother. I’ll wait for you at the apartment tomorrow.”

As Zhao Fuhe’s delighted words faded, Gu Pingsheng hung up.

He spun the phone in his slender fingers, then stopped. After a few seconds, he dialed another number. “Break one of his legs. Make sure he stays alive.”

Dawn.

Wen Zhixia couldn’t get up—her whole body was weary, her eyelids too heavy to open.

Gu Pingsheng had risen early after Zhao Fuhe’s call.

Half-awake, Wen Zhixia vaguely saw him dressing, then slipped back into a deep, exhausted slumber. She felt drained, more so than any workday before.