Zhao Xiyin was so angry that she fainted, her words became incoherent, and the taste of blood filled her throat.
She raised her hand, and the slap came down.
Zhou Qishen turned his face to the left.
Does it hurt?
It doesn't hurt at all.
She cupped her palm and carefully placed the blow on an uninjured spot. It wasn't really hitting him; it was more like venting her anger, a slap that was all she felt was disappointment and resentment.
Zhou Qishen's heart softened almost instantly.
Zhao Xiyin was filled with hatred. She raised her foot and kicked the car door. She was wearing flat shoes for dancing, and the thin soles of the shoes hit the steel plate. She kicked again and again, and as her body swayed, tears flew down her face.
Zhou Qishen's face was tense. He unlocked the car in a few seconds, opened the door himself, and said in a tight voice with a harsh tone, "Why are you kicking the door? Is the door harder than your foot? If you hurt yourself, will you still be dancing?"
Zhao Xiyin's tears flowed even more, and she kicked them all at his legs.
Zhou Qishen just sat there, letting her kick him, not even flinching. Even the strongest body couldn't withstand such abuse. He couldn't take it anymore, and in frustration, he grabbed her hand. "Zhao Xiyin!"
Zhao Xiyin retorted fiercely, "Zhou Qishen!"
Their eyes met, and a moment of silence fell.
In their eyes, the seven deadly sins of greed, anger, ignorance, hatred, love, aversion, and desire were fully present.
Zhou Qishen couldn't hold back any longer. He grabbed her hand and pulled her forward abruptly, one hand gripping the back of her head. The next second, the man's cold lips and teeth landed on the girl's neck.
Zhao Xiyin cried out in pain, tears streaming down her face, her voice nearly hoarse, "Zhou Qishen, you bastard!"
Zhou Qishen, possessed by a demon, bit her. It wasn't a gentle bite, but a sharp, bloody bite with his white teeth. Her skin turned pale at first, then blood rushed out, leaving a ring of bloody marks.
Zhao Xiyin, preoccupied with her pain, watched as the pile of scrap metal recklessly drove onto the main road. She crouched on the ground, the scattered rose petals a poignant and tragic sight, tears gradually blurring her vision.
——
Zhou Qishen knew what was going on, and pulled over to the side of the road after driving for less than ten minutes.
Meng Weixi was ruthless, striking first and landing several punches on vital points. Zhou Qishen's right foot was in excruciating pain, and he almost couldn't brake. Panting, he called Gu Heping, "Come over here with Lao Cheng, I can't drive."
Then, Lao Cheng's black Mercedes G500, with its hazard lights flashing, drove up recklessly. As Lao Cheng got out of the car, he tossed Gu Heping a line, "Can I borrow your driver's license to get points deducted?"
Gu Heping scoffed, "Go find Boss Zhou, he's the one who's messing things up."
When they saw Zhou Qishen's car clearly, both of them were stunned. The front of the car was smashed like that, as if it had crashed into Mount Tai? Old Cheng knocked on the car window, and after about ten seconds, the window slowly slid down.
Even the usually composed Old Cheng couldn't hold back anymore, his face flushed with anger, "Damn it, which bastard did this?"
Zhou Qishen didn't say a word, or even turn his head. He leaned back, his face deep and calm.
The car was lit by the city lights, casting hazy shadows on his face. Dried scabs lay across his nose, and blood continued to seep from the wound on his brow. This scene, a blend of old and new, was eerily alluring.
When they arrived at the hospital and got out of the car, Lao Cheng realized that his injuries were far more serious than he had initially thought.
In the bright light, a wet patch of blood was clearly visible on the dark trousers, almost certainly soaked through. Gu Heping was horrified by the sight. "Mr. Zhou, you've been... you've had your manhood cut off?"
Zhou Qishen hooked his shoulder, his grip tightening, almost suffocating Gu Heping.
He asked in a hoarse voice, "Do you want a megaphone?"
The hospital had everything arranged, and they took him for X-rays and an MRI. The results showed a fractured bone and a mild concussion. The cut on his thigh was from a sharp object, and as a precaution, Zhou Qishen received a tetanus shot.
Gu Heping sighed, "Meng Weixi is quite something. Back then, he seemed like an innocent rich kid, but he's really grown up quickly these past few years. He can even make Brother Zhou suffer. He's got talent."
Old Cheng gave a signal, and Gu Heping, with his particularly sharp tongue, asked knowingly, "Can't we mention Meng Weixi's name? Meng Weixi, Meng Weixi, Meng..."
“He knows why Xiaoxi and I divorced.” Zhou Qishen wasn’t angry, he just said in a low voice.
Gu Heping was taken aback for a moment, then said, "Ah."
“He knows I pushed Xiaoxi, he knows she was injured, he knows I laid a hand on her.” Zhou Qishen lowered his head, a bloodstain running from below his left eye down to his right cheek.
Old Cheng said, "You didn't mean to make a mistake."
"But I still hurt her." Zhou Qishen gently closed his eyes, the scene from that day vivid in his mind. He and Zhao Xiyin had a fierce argument, a heated argument that shook the heavens and the earth, a heated argument that tore their relationship apart, a heated argument that left him utterly humiliated. Zhao Xiyin cried and cursed him, "Zhou Qishen, you bastard!"
When Zhao Xiyin is angry, she looks fierce but is actually weak. She's just a paper tiger. Just like before, even after all these years, the harshest word she ever uses is still "bastard."
Zhou Qishen often wondered if he had been more patient and accommodating back then, would they have been like all couples, arguing in bed and making up before they got out of bed, instead of her choosing to flee, with the world beyond Chunming Gate as her destination?
Gu Heping suddenly laughed, "Is making a mistake the root cause? Lao Cheng, don't spoil him. Zhou Ge, tell me yourself, if you hadn't made a mistake and Xiao Zhao hadn't been injured, would you two have been fine? With your mentality, if I were Xiao west, I would still divorce you."
Zhou Qishen felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest. He grabbed a pillow and threw it at Gu Heping, saying, "You'll die if you don't talk."
“I’m living the high life,” Gu Heping teased him. “Boss Zhou should think about himself.”
Zhou Qishen could naturally distinguish between good and bad advice, even if it was hard to hear.
"That's about it," Lao Cheng said. "Heping, you go home. I'll stay with him tonight."
"Don't worry, he wouldn't dare let me stay. Do you believe I can talk all night and get him to hold a memorial service for me tomorrow?"
Annoyed by the noise, Zhou Qishen said, "Old Cheng, you should go back too. Isn't Zhaozhao afraid to sleep alone? I'm fine, I'll stay by myself."
Seeing that the others looked respectable but only had superficial injuries, Lao Cheng didn't hold back.
Gu Heping went out briefly, and when he returned, he brought in a pretty girl in her early twenties. Pointing at Zhou Qishen with a smug look in her eyes, she said, "Look, serve this master well, and I'll pay your tuition next month."