Chapter 93: Gu Pingsheng Slapped Her

Wen Zhixia, who was drinking water, turned her head slightly in surprise upon hearing his words.

Perhaps the intensity of her gaze was too obvious, for Gu Pingsheng glanced at her with a slight tilt of his head, his sharp brows raised as if questioning her.

Wen Zhixia reined in the curiosity in her eyes, pretending she hadn’t looked at him at all.

She found it odd—Gu Pingsheng’s tone suggested he had long intended to replace Li Yueting.

Their phone conversation hadn’t lasted more than a few minutes, seemingly just to issue an order.

The warm air inside the car slowly thawed Wen Zhixia’s body; she truly disliked the outdoors in winter, especially when there was no sunlight.

She looked down at her knees, wondering if they would ache during the night.

Back in her student days, she had suffered frostbite on her knees. No one at home cared much, so she wore thin clothes. Riding her bike against the biting winter wind for years, she hadn’t noticed it at the time. But one night, when her knees itched and ached so badly she couldn’t sleep, she realized the problem.

After that, she wore thicker clothes, regardless of feeling bulky, wrapping herself like a penguin. Yet some injuries, once sustained, cannot be reversed; attempts at remedy often yield minimal results.

Later, as she plunged into entrepreneurship, she paid even less attention to these things. To appear presentable, she wore a down coat in winter, but underneath, she dressed as lightly as in spring or autumn. Over time, her knees would inevitably suffer from the cold at night, causing discomfort.

This led her to develop the habit of wearing knee-high boots every winter.

Gu Pingsheng ended his call, took out a heated patch, and placed it on her knees. “Uncomfortable?”

Wen Zhixia looked at the man who was leaning down to apply the warm patch. Her thick lashes cast a faint shadow over her eyes. “Gu Pingsheng, when did you sign the divorce papers?”

His fingers paused, brows narrowing as he glanced at her. His lips pressed together with a hint of grit. “Just wait.”

Wen Zhixia frowned slightly.

That night, resting in the guest room, she took a shower, applied lotion, and then rubbed ointment on her knees, yet discomfort lingered as she tried to sleep.

She was already a light sleeper, and now, she couldn’t fall asleep at all.

“Playing around with a little man, and now you’re feeling the pain?” Gu Pingsheng pushed open the door, leaning against the frame with arms crossed, watching her sit on the edge of the bed, frowning.

Wen Zhixia glanced at him but said nothing.

Seeing her indifferent attitude irritated him; he raised his hand as if to toss her the hot water bottle but hesitated, deciding not to argue.

He threw back the covers and got into bed.

“What are you doing?” Wen Zhixia asked.

“If you could keep those patches on all night by yourself, then go ahead and keep making a fuss,” he said in a low voice, pinning her down on the bed.

Wen Zhixia pressed her lips together.

With his body pressed against hers and his eyes closed, he radiated warmth like a natural furnace, driving away the chill from her body.

Gu Xia Group.

When Gu Pingsheng appeared in the conference room with Zhou Anbei, announcing his identity as secretary and full representative, all eyes instinctively shifted to Li Yueting, who sat to Gu Pingsheng’s right.

Despite having worked as a secretary for over two years, Li Yueting had never been granted such trust; yet Zhou Anbei had just arrived and was immediately given full authority, revealing an extraordinary background.

Though Li Yueting maintained a composed expression, she clenched the documents in her hand tightly.

What was Gu Pingsheng’s intention?

He hadn’t dismissed her but brought in Zhou Anbei to fully represent him—was he planning to sideline her?

Zhou Anbei’s glance briefly swept over Li Yueting, and though he offered no further attention, she felt the disdain in his look.

In the CEO’s office.

Li Yueting took a deep breath and entered after knocking.

Zhou Anbei was inside, reporting on work progress to Gu Pingsheng. Though Li Yueting only heard the conclusion, it was clear he was highly capable.

“Mr. Gu, you continue with your work. I’ll take my leave,” Zhou Anbei said as he stood.

Gu Pingsheng nodded.

Once just the two of them remained, Li Yueting approached Gu Pingsheng, her voice tinged with grievance. “Mr. Gu, do you find me useless and want to replace me?”

“The work of a CEO’s secretary is demanding. If you’re overwhelmed, having someone assist you shouldn’t be a bad thing,” Gu Pingsheng countered.

Li Yueting bit her lip. If it were merely an assistant to help her, she wouldn’t object. But Zhou Anbei was clearly not just an assistant.

“Mr. Gu, you promised me before that unless I agreed, my secretary position would never change,” she said softly, looking at him.

Gu Pingsheng’s fingers lightly traced the document as he beckoned her over.

Her heart leapt with hope as she moved toward his embrace.

But instead, Gu Pingsheng struck her across the face without pity. In her shocked eyes, he grabbed her throat, his deep gaze cold and sharp, as if ready to tear her apart at any moment.

“Wh-why?” Li Yueting choked out with difficulty, her voice strained.

“Who else knows my schedule as well as you do?” Gu Pingsheng’s other hand brushed over her reddened face. “How did Zhao Fuhe appear at the Sifang City lecture yesterday if not because you leaked it to her? Li Yueting, I warned you—if you quietly do your job, my promise to you stands. But…” His voice dropped, “If you have other intentions, I can’t tolerate you. Understand?”

He suddenly released her. Li Yueting nearly fell but caught the desk in time to avoid disgrace.

“I could die for you, be an incomplete woman for you, yet you can’t even give me basic trust,” she said sorrowfully. “I won’t admit to things I haven’t done. How foolish must I be to leak this when only you and I knew? I know nothing about Miss Zhao’s matters. Whether you believe me or not, I am innocent.”

Her words were resolute, as if she had a clear conscience.

But Gu Pingsheng’s nature was suspicious. Once doubt arose, trust dissolved.

“Zhou Anbei will work with you from now on. Get to know each other. You may leave now.”

Li Yueting wiped her tear-streaked face, lowering her head. “Mr. Gu, do you distrust me so much you want to sideline me? Don’t you know how sincere I’ve been? I can never be a mother, never have children, but I’ve never regretted it. Yet you can’t even give me basic trust.”

Gu Pingsheng’s brow twitched but he said nothing.

Li Yueting left the office and went straight to the lounge. After confirming no one was there, she called Zhao Fuhe.

Zhao Fuhe answered, her tone impatient. She was still agitated over the previous day’s events at Sifang City University. Someone had dug up her past, claiming she’d secretly admired Gu Pingsheng since her student days but was rejected, and now she was taking this opportunity to embarrass Wen Zhixia. Instead, she became the subject of ridicule.

Looking at the posts and the photos from her student days, it was clear she had an entirely different style back then, confirming suspicions that she was merely imitating Wen Zhixia.

The comments mocked her as a vain, ugly woman oblivious to her own flaws.

Furious, Zhao Fuhe nearly smashed her phone.

Li Yueting’s call caught her at a bad moment, so her tone was naturally curt.

Li Yueting was frustrated with Zhao Fuhe’s foolishness, which had cost her work advantages. Trying to calm herself, she focused on proving her innocence and uncovering how Zhao Fuhe had obtained the information, which had even caused Gu Pingsheng to doubt her.

“Mr. Gu, we found out that Zhao Fuhe has a friend who works as a counselor at Sifang City University. The information about your lecture was revealed during casual conversation…” Zhou Anbei reported the findings.

Clearly, this had no direct connection to Li Yueting.

“Li Secretary went to the lounge to make a call,” Zhou Anbei added.

Gu Pingsheng’s dark eyes gleamed with shadow, devoid of light. “Carry on.”

Lanhu County.

Wen Zhixia woke to a call from the hospital.

After days of data matching, no suitable bone marrow donor had been found. She sat up, her hand clutching the phone trembling slightly.

“The sooner treatment begins, the better. Delaying will only worsen your condition and increase surgical risks. Since Mr. Gu has found a suitable donor and Director Zhang is a leading expert in this field domestically, why not…” The voice on the line hesitated, knowing the conflict between the couple couldn’t outweigh the importance of life.

Wen Zhixia drew back the curtains, fully aware of the easier path, only unwilling to take it.

The ambiguous relationship between Zhao Fuhe and Gu Pingsheng made accepting her bone marrow more unbearable than death itself.

“Keep searching,” Wen Zhixia said coldly.

The other side paused, reluctant, then finally spoke, “Ms. Wen, I’m not trying to discourage you. These things don’t happen overnight. Many have searched for years without finding a match. Even if one is found, the donor may have reservations and may not be able to donate immediately.”

In short, they advised her to accept Zhao Fuhe’s bone marrow and stop the fruitless search—an unpredictable matter beyond anyone’s estimate.

“Gu Pingsheng sent you? To be my advocate?”