Chapter 6 The Irritable Wheelchair Man

Inside, things had reached their peak, the moans and heavy breathing growing louder by the second. Qiu Xiaoling sat as if on pins and needles, utterly at a loss for what to do. She wanted to leave but feared being heard by the people inside—how awkward would that be?

Suddenly, the man’s rough panting and voice rang out: “Baby, you’re still so amazing. I’ve missed you so much all these years!”

The woman gasped coquettishly: “I heard… I heard you already have a girlfriend? Hah… do you still remember me?”

The man’s movements grew fiercer: “Did you also hear that she looks a lot like you?”

The woman giggled breathlessly: “R-really? Like… like me? Is she better than me in bed?”

The man scoffed: “Her? That bitch won’t even let me touch her, acting all chaste and virtuous.” As he spoke, he must have done something, because the woman let out a sharp cry before he continued, “She’s nowhere near as good as you—busty, curvy, and long-legged…”

The woman giggled coyly again, and the two of them lost themselves in passion.

Meanwhile, Qiu Xiaoling… the flush on her face drained away, replaced by a deathly pallor. She felt as if she’d been plunged into an icy abyss, her entire body trembling with bone-chilling cold.

That voice—it was all too familiar. That man… that man was none other than Du Fang!

What a class reunion. What a “can’t refuse” excuse. Of course he couldn’t refuse—with a slut like this waiting for him, how could he have any mind left for a movie date with her?

Qiu Xiaoling recalled the disgusting words exchanged between the two and realized she was nothing but a fucking “stand-in.” The joy she’d felt before coming here now turned into overwhelming nausea. She gagged twice, clenched her eyes shut, and viciously kicked off her high heels. Grabbing one, she stormed toward the corner.

Against the wall of the corner, a well-dressed man had a woman pinned, their upper bodies still clothed while their lower halves were a revolting mess of exposed flesh.

Qiu Xiaoling’s eyes burned with fury. Gripping the heel of her shoe, she smashed it against the back of the man’s head—once! Twice! In the blink of an eye, streaks of blood trickled down his scalp.

Du Fang had been in the throes of pleasure when something sharp suddenly struck his head, sending waves of searing pain and dizziness through him. He barely had time to disentangle himself from the woman before turning around—only to see a familiar, beautiful face, now twisted with rage, glaring at him through his blurred vision.

“You think you can just walk all over me, huh? Cheating on me and treating me like a fucking replacement? You’re dead!”

Another sharp blow from the heel landed squarely on Du Fang’s forehead. He tried to react, but his head was bleeding, his mind reeling from the impact. Staggering weakly, he stumbled aside.

“Xiaoling, I didn’t—”

As Du Fang moved away, the woman behind him was exposed, frantically pulling her clothes down to cover herself.

Qiu Xiaoling ignored Du Fang completely. Her furious gaze locked onto the woman—her features did resemble hers, with that sickeningly sweet mix of innocence and seduction, the classic green tea bitch! But she had no interest in arguing with her. Instead, she grabbed a fistful of the woman’s hair and yanked her out of the corner, shoving her away.

“Get out! Get out of my way!” She wanted to curse “you bitch,” but held back in the end. Turning towards Du Fang, she shoved him violently to the ground and began slapping his face with her free hand—the one not holding the high heel. “You bastard! Playing with my feelings! Bastard! Bastard! Why don’t you just die?!”

The sound of slaps rang out incessantly. Du Fang was dazed by the blows, completely unable to fight back. Soon, his face was swollen from the beating. He desperately tried to explain, but every time he opened his mouth, another slap silenced him. Qiu Xiaoling had no intention of listening to him anyway—she just kept hitting. If she didn’t vent this fury, she’d never sleep again!

Du Fang, disoriented from the beating, flailed his hands, trying to grab anything to stop Qiu Xiaoling’s assault. He pulled everything from his pockets—keys, cigarette case, phone—hurling them at her in panic. But instead of deterring her, the pain only made Qiu Xiaoling fiercer, her slaps even harder. She didn’t notice that Du Fang’s lighter, knocked loose in his frantic struggle, had hit the ground several times before striking something hard in her bag—then suddenly exploded! Sparks landed on Qiu Xiaoling, instantly igniting her dress as flames rapidly climbed upward.

At first, she didn’t realize what was happening. By the time she did, the fire had already engulfed her. Du Fang took advantage of her panic, shoving her aside before scrambling away on all fours.

“Xiaowen! Help me!”

Hu Xiaowen, who had just finished dressing and was about to flee from around the corner, trembled at Du Fang’s call. Peeking inside, she quickly pulled him up. Bearing the pain all over his body, Du Fang ran off with Hu Xiaowen—he’d had enough of that crazy woman!

The two escaped, but Qiu Xiaoling had become a human torch, wrapped in scorching flames as the surrounding temperature soared. She rolled frantically on the ground, but couldn’t extinguish the fire fast enough…

“Help! Help!”

Qiu Xiaoling didn’t want to die—she still had so much life ahead! Now, regret flooded her. Why had she been so impulsive, coming alone to confront him? She could’ve just hired some thugs to beat him up—wasn’t it just a matter of money? Now, she was going to die because of that damned Du Fang!

Just as despair and remorse filled her mind, the sound of wheels scraping against the ground echoed from the alley entrance. She jerked her head up, hoping for a rescuer—only to be disappointed the next second.

A wheelchair rolled swiftly into the alley, but… how could a disabled person save her?

Backlit, Qiu Xiaoling couldn’t see the face of the person in the wheelchair, but his voice cut through immediately.

“Stop howling! Don’t you know whether it hurts or not?!”

Qiu Xiaoling froze, too stunned to retort at his rudeness before realizing—he was right. It didn’t hurt at all. She looked down: the flames still licked at her body, the lace edges of her dress melting and dripping. It *should* have been agonizing, but… she felt nothing. What in the world was happening?!

The wheelchair-bound man spoke again, impatient. “Where did you get that hairpin?”

Snapped out of her daze, Qiu Xiaoling quickly pulled out the hairpin and clutched it in her palm.

The hairpin emitted a faint white glow. No matter how fierce the flames became, this light seemed to wrap around her skin, shielding her from all the fire…

·

Fang Zhenbang blended into the bustling crowd at a street food stall, pretending to eat while his eyes darted in all directions, searching for any sign of the person he was waiting for.

It had been nearly half an hour—why hadn’t they shown up yet? They should have arrived by now. Even though that monster didn’t seem to be chasing them, what if it was? Every second here was torture. Once the captain arrived, he’d dare to confront that monster and settle the score…

Sweat beaded on Fang Zhenbang’s forehead from tension until, suddenly, he spotted a figure in the distance. He abruptly stood up, tossed a few dozen yuan onto the food stall, and hurried over.

“Cap-Captain!” Fang Zhenbang stiffened as he approached, not daring to get too close. “Y-You came alone? Should I push your wheelchair for you?”

The person opposite him sat in a wheelchair, replying impatiently, “Hurry up, I have other matters to attend to. Where’s Yan Zhen? What’s going on?”

Fang Zhenbang quickly answered, “Reporting, Captain! Yan Zhen is in Zhenlong Alley, running a shop called Jade Accumulation Studio—”

Before he could finish, a woman’s voice interrupted him. “You’re also looking for the owner of Jade Accumulation Studio?”

Fang Zhenbang froze, only now noticing a young woman standing a little over a meter away from their captain. She was wearing… their team uniform—the one prepared for the captain but which he had never worn?

“Who are you?” he blurted out.

Before the young woman could respond, the person in the wheelchair snapped irritably, “Enough! Since she’s alone, just lead the way already. Stop wasting time!”

Fang Zhenbang immediately swallowed his questions, stepping aside and gesturing. “This way, Captain. Please follow me.”

The wheelchair-bound person rejected Fang Zhenbang’s offer to push, pressing a button on the side of the chair instead, and followed alongside Fang Zhenbang as they headed toward Zhenlong Alley.

·

It was already noon. Aside from the sale of the transparent jade earlier that morning, Jade Accumulation Studio had seen no other business. Yan Zhen sat on a wooden chair, leisurely reading a book, occasionally sighing in contentment. As for business? He wasn’t worried.

After taking a sip of tea, Yan Zhen’s slender, pale fingers turned a page, and his brows furrowed slightly.

What now? Still not done?

No wonder he was annoyed—he sensed that the deranged human male from earlier had returned, this time bringing along his first customer. What was this, some kind of madman kidnapping innocent bystanders like in those TV dramas?

After a moment’s thought, Yan Zhen decided to proactively shove some White Nue Meat into the lunatic’s mouth. His first customer shouldn’t fall into the hands of a madman. Slowly, he rose from his seat and ambled out of the shop, standing at his doorstep.

Sure enough, as Yan Zhen peered down the alley, several figures appeared in the distance.

The one at the front sat in a wheelchair, clad in a thick black coat despite the height of summer, the zipper pulled all the way up to the collar. The oversized collar stood stiffly, obscuring half of the person’s face.

However, even from just half of his face, it was clear that the man in the wheelchair was young. His tightly knitted brows vividly displayed his extremely foul mood. His eyes were closed at the moment, but perhaps sensing Yan Zhen’s gaze, he lifted his head, revealing an exceptionally handsome face.  

The eyes that abruptly opened were filled with hostility. The wheelchair swiftly rolled forward, and though sitting in it should have made him appear shorter, his demeanor was like that of a mafia boss on patrol—his presence overwhelmingly imposing.  

Yan Zhen spotted the young man instantly, and in that very moment, his eyes lit up—brighter than ever.