SES Chapter 14 V2

Then added, “I’m going to my room.”

Seeing how dirty she was, Huo Zihong knew even if she hadn’t caught him, she’d been in a real fight. She didn’t follow, but gave Yiwansan a meaningful look. He immediately jogged after her, with Cao Yanhua tagging along behind.

Mu Dai climbed the stairs heavily. As soon as she pushed open her room door, sorrow overwhelmed her. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the floor, face down.

Normally, Yiwansan might’ve thought she was practicing some kind of “gecko crawl” technique again, but this time, he knew it was different.

He rushed over. “Boss lady, boss lady—the floor’s dirty!”

He hovered, not sure whether to help her up. Cao Yanhua, ever more thoughtful, grabbed a pillow from the bed. “Here, Mu Dai—something to rest on.”

Mu Dai lifted her head and shoved the pillow under her face, choking out, “I’m so pathetic.”

Yiwansan tried to comfort her. “Come on, just ’cause you didn’t catch him doesn’t mean you’re pathetic!”

Mu Dai let out a groaning whimper, her face buried in the pillow. Her voice was muffled: “He said he was gonna kill me… and I cried.”

Cao Yanhua was deeply moved. “Crying is normal, Mu Dai. Who isn’t afraid of death? Crying just means you value life—it’s the people who don’t cry that are the real problem, no regard for family or society…”

He rambled on. Mu Dai finally whispered weakly, “Can you guys just go? I need some time alone.”

Cao Yanhua sighed and got up to leave. At the door, he turned and asked Yiwansan, “What’s wrong with her?”

Yiwansan replied solemnly, “Looks like our boss lady just got totally… steamrolled.”

He made a squashing gesture with his hand as he said “steamrolled,” silently mouthing a word to himself:

“Nice.”

Later, when the lights were off, Huo Zihong and Uncle Zhang came to check on Mu Dai. The bed was empty—pillow and blanket gone. Huo Zihong went to the closet and slid open the door a crack.

Inside, Mu Dai was curled up with her blanket, face pressed into the pillow, sound asleep.

Huo Zihong sighed and closed the door again, whispering to Uncle Zhang as they walked out.

“I worry about her. Mu Dai’s too headstrong—she’s either arrogant or crushed. There’s never a middle ground.”

“Boss lady… should we report what happened?”

“No point. Running a business, stuff like this is bound to happen.”

…

Inside the closet, Mu Dai slowly opened her eyes.

“Her family’s poor—she dropped out in second grade to help them sell produce. Go observe your Aunt Hong—do they match?”

——

Luo Ren took off his shirt, breathing hard.

The man in the mirror had a lean, muscular build, with bronzed skin and a massive bruise under his ribs.

He wet a towel with cold water, folded it, and pressed it to the wound—sucking in a sharp breath from the sting.

Grinding his teeth: “Really should’ve just stabbed her.”

His phone, on speaker, chimed in with Uncle Zheng’s voice: “Is it bad? Should you go to the hospital?”

“I’m fine. Not that fragile.” Luo Ren pressed the towel in place, turned off the speaker, and brought the phone to his ear. “How’s Pingting?”

Uncle Zheng sighed. “Same as always.”

Then added, “Luo Ren, you really should come home and see her.”

Luo Ren went quiet, then deliberately changed the subject. “I saw Huo Zihong. I still think she knows something. These three similar cases—there’s gotta be a connection.”

Uncle Zheng chuckled bitterly. “You always take things too far. You’ve been digging into this forever—gotten anywhere? There are tons of people in the world missing a left foot. Doesn’t mean they’re all connected. I Googled it—cutting feet off was an actual ancient punishment. Called yuezu, one of the Five Major Penalties.”

A smirk tugged at Luo Ren’s lips. “If things go well with Huo Zihong, I’ll have a breakthrough soon.”

Uncle Zheng sounded worried. “It won’t be that easy. Didn’t her… adopted daughter almost hurt you?”

“Her?” Luo Ren chuckled. “She’s like a puffed-up kitten—poke her and she’s all claws and fangs. But tonight, I declawed her.”

Uncle Zheng scolded, “Come on, Luo Ren—don’t push too far. Make peace, not enemies.”

Luo Ren replied lazily, “Different sides. Everyone does what they must.”

His eyes drifted to the cold steel combat knife lying on the table.

After the call, he tossed the towel aside and flopped onto the bed.

The ceiling above was weathered too, with an old-fashioned European ceiling fan—purely decorative, bronze filigree.

He stared at it for a while, then sighed softly.

“What the hell were you crying for?”