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Chapter 18: Dangerous Basement — Feeling Her Chill and Tremble

“Thank you, President Pei.”

“Why no longer call me ‘Mr. Pei’?”

“Because I notice employees at Pei’s always call you that.”

“Hmm, as you wish.”

No one dared approach while Zhong Yang was with Pei Yunzhe. The corridor remained empty until they reached the exhibition hall.

The exhibition space took up an entire floor. Upon entering, Zhong Yang widened her eyes in awe—the ceiling was a deep navy canvas streaked with glimmering star trails, like the Milky Way unfolding above.

At the center stood a massive spherical screen, encasing a lone autumn ginkgo tree. Its golden leaves swayed and floated like butterflies—a giant crystal orb.

Zhong Yang’s gaze scanned surreal scenes around the hall, each transporting her imagination to a different realm.

“It’s so beautiful… how did they do this?”

Her voice echoed in the hall, unanswered. She looked back to Pei Yunzhe. The screen’s soft glow illuminated his face, unexpectedly softening his cold aura.

Her heart skipped a beat—but then raced faster.

Suddenly, he met her eyes. Time seemed to slow. She noticed his throat move as he swallowed, an erotic tension stirring inside her. She swallowed, startled—but then his voice snapped her back:

“There are plaques next to each exhibit. Read them yourself.”

…His detachment was striking.

Embarrassed, she scolded herself for her girlish fantasies. It wasn’t the lighting or romance—well, maybe it was him being so attractive!

Catching herself, Zhong Yang tried to think of someone less intimidating—like Cai or Assistant Zhang.

The two walked in silence through the exhibit. When complex technology appeared, Pei Yunzhe gave brief explanations. Zhong Yang didn’t ask further—fearing another “read it yourself” remark.

She was dazzled and took many photos for Weibo.

Upon exiting, she offered a polite smile: “Thank you, President Pei. I really enjoyed the tech fair—I should get going home.”

“It’s raining outside. I’ll take you.”

“No need, it’s close.”

She stepped ahead to put distance between them—until suddenly she felt a firm grip on her wrist through her coat.

“In total there are seventy-six exhibits—I can’t explain them all. And you were smiling fake just now.”

Zhong Yang tugged to free her wrist. “I don’t want to trouble you, President Pei.”

His eyebrow lifted. He released her hand and strode out: “Let’s go. I’m taking you home.”

She let out a relieved breath, still feeling warmth where he touched her. Lowering her lashes, she reminded herself: she’s just another employee—should keep distance. But why did his gesture feel so personal?

“Does President Pei always treat employees like this—sending them home on rainy days?”

“No.”

Pei Yunzheng added, “Only when I’m in the mood.”

“Then you must be in a good mood today.”

“You have good eyes.”

They took the elevator down to level -1, the garage.

Her eyes flicked: “Did your driver call in again?”

“No. I drove myself.”

Just then, a gray figure lunged at him! Zhong Yang gasped and yanked on Pei’s arm—but was too slow.

The attacker, a plainly dressed woman, grabbed the collar of his suit. Her eyes were bloodshot, lips cracked, as she unleashed a torrent of curses.

“Pei Yunzhe! You’re heartless! You and Pei Shize are despicable, trash—bastards born of filthy women!”

“Liu Hui is your blood nephew—and you let him die!? A million yuan, that’s all I asked! You wouldn’t even give that! I should’ve let you starve you from the start! You owe me! Your mother destroyed everything too! The Pei family is wrecked because of her!”

Zhong Yang recognized her instantly: Pei Yunzhe’s aunt—Pei Rurong.

Pei Yunzhe frowned. “Get off.”

She ignored him and laughed maniacally:

“Hahaha… angry? Hate me? You better die! I’ll take you with me—let’s all die together!”

Her verbal assault ricocheted off the concrete walls.

Disgusted, Zhong Yang stepped forward and yanked the woman’s arm to separate her from Pei.

“Hey, ma’am, where did you come from? Can’t you understand common sense?”

Pei Rurong, taken aback, lashed out: “You bitch—who do you think you are talking to?”

Angered, Zhong Yang retorted: “Excuse me—did you just eat shit? Your breath is foul!”

The woman lunged closer, snarling. Pei Yunzhe grabbed her arm to stop her.

He spoke with calm warning: “This is your last chance. Leave.”

Still combative, Pei Rurong snapped: “You worthless bitch! Both of you should die!”

Zhong Yang shot back with a wink: “I’m not dying—what are you going to do?”

Pei Yunzhe pulled out his phone to call security—it wasn’t connected yet when suddenly a burly figure appeared holding a large knife!

Liu Hui—his hair matted, wild-eyed—screamed, “I’m coming for all of you!”

No one expected that. Zhong Yang shut her eyes, bracing for a fatal blow.

Clang! The blade struck the pavement instead.

She opened her eyes to see Liu Hui pinned down on the ground—Pei Yunzhe held his arm, controlling him. He glanced at Zhong Yang.

Quickly, Zhong Yang picked up the dropped knife and pressed its tip toward Liu Hui, trembling but firm:

“Stand still or I’ll cut you.”

Security and bodyguards arrived and handcuffed the violent aunt and nephew, taking them away.

Pei Yunzhe turned to Zhong Yang, seeing her pale but steady. Beneath the tension, his gaze softened.

He gently touched her hand, noting its cold tremor: “It’s okay. Don’t be afraid.”

“I… I’m okay.” She swallowed, voice shaky. “Why did your aunt—why did they do that?”

He answered quietly: “Liu Hui ran up debts—one million yuan. With an empty account, he snapped.”

Turns out Pei Rurong’s husband had died years ago, and since then Liu Hui had been living recklessly, bingeing on food, drink, and gambling. His mother sold assets to pay his debts, but he never stopped.

Last week they’d caused a scene at Pei’s headquarters—kneeling, crying, begging him. But today she’d turned violent—true cruelty wore many faces.

He already saw through them—no mercy would be given.

“They’re terrifying,” Zhong Yang whispered, noticing a bloody mark on his wrist. She grabbed his hand, alarmed: “You’re hurt!”

He glanced at the bruise: “Just a scratch.”

She insisted: “Don’t force yourself. Let’s disinfect and wrap it properly.” She took his arm and headed toward the elevator: “Let’s go back to the office first for treatment.”

“Wait.” He stopped and looked down at his disheveled, stained suit. “Like this?”

She considered: “Maybe it affects your boss image. We can go to Nanan Street—I have a first-aid kit there.”

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