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Jiang Huaiyu immediately grew alert and wasted no time in soothing Wen Shuyu. “Yuyu, don’t be afraid.”
He stepped out of the conference room, phone in hand.
Despite the storm brewing inside him, Jiang Huaiyu kept his voice steady. “Don’t worry, honey. Where are you now?”
Hearing his calm reassurance was like clinging to a lifeline. Wen Shuyu glanced out the window. “Yunshan Street, heading west to east.”
It was a road she traveled every day, familiar down to every detail.
The streets were nearly empty. A few cars passed by, but a black sedan tailed her relentlessly.
Jiang Huaiyu pulled up the map. “Turn right at the next intersection onto Maple Avenue. There are more cars on the main road—he won’t dare do anything reckless. I’ll be there soon. Don’t hang up, Yuyu. I’m here.”
Wen Shuyu followed his instructions. “Alright.”
She could hear muffled sounds through the phone, along with Jiang Huaiyu’s hurried but controlled voice giving orders.
“Jinnan, handle the rest. I need to find my wife.”
“Go quickly,” Song Jinnan urged. He didn’t know what had happened, but Jiang Huaiyu’s pale expression told him enough.
The man who could face any crisis without flinching now looked like he’d seen a ghost.
There was a tremor in his voice.
In the five or six years Song Jinnan had known Jiang Huaiyu, he had never seen him this shaken.
The elevator descended slowly. Jiang Huaiyu instinctively reached for his pocket—no keys. He spun on his heel and headed back to the office.
But when he looked down at his hand, there were the keys, already gripped tight in his sweaty palm.
He was that rattled.
Jiang Huaiyu sprinted to the underground garage, started the car, and sped toward Maple Avenue.
The repeated reassurances—”Don’t be afraid”—weren’t just for Wen Shuyu. They were for himself, a reminder to stay calm.
He was grateful he had convinced her to change the contact name in her phone. Adding an “A” in front ensured he was at the top of her list.
Jiang Huaiyu floored the gas pedal, cursing that he couldn’t fly to her side.
The city streets were clear, thanks to missing the evening rush hour.
Neon lights blurred into rings of color as they zipped past the windows. The sky was dark, oppressive, like a heavy steam room ready to burst with rain, but it never did.
All that came through the phone was static now, a constant “zzzz.”
Fifteen minutes had passed when Jiang Huaiyu asked, “Yuyu, how is it now?”
He made it sound casual, though his heart raced.
“They’re still following, almost out of the city.” Wen Shuyu checked her rearview mirror. The black car was still there, edging closer to her driver’s side every chance it got.
She had tried to shake them, but they were relentless, even running red lights to keep up.
It was a miracle no disaster had happened yet.
The distance between them shifted with precision—closer when needed, falling back when things got tight. They knew exactly what they were doing, as if they had done this for years.
Jiang Huaiyu scanned the road, searching for Wen Shuyu’s familiar white car. Suddenly, at an intersection, he spotted it. “I see you. Drive normally, but slow down a bit.”
Maple Avenue was a fast-moving city road with no intersections or traffic lights for a good stretch—perfect for forcing a stop.
Timing it perfectly, Wen Shuyu switched to the outermost lane, gently pressing the brake, her speed gradually lowering to 30 kilometers per hour.
Jiang Huaiyu kept a close eye on the car following her. “Yuyu, listen to me. I’m right beside you now. On my count of three, floor the gas pedal. Got it?”
Wen Shuyu nodded, “Okay.”
“Three, two, one.” Jiang Huaiyu’s voice, steady and calm, carried an almost hypnotic effect.
The countdown ended.
A brief moment of silence was shattered by the screeching sound of tires and the deafening crash of cars colliding.
It was Jiang Huaiyu’s black car, wedged between hers and the one following.
Wen Shuyu slammed her brakes, bringing the car to a halt by the roadside. Quickly, she unbuckled her seatbelt and dashed out, her first instinct to call the police and dial for an ambulance.
Running to Jiang Huaiyu’s car, she pounded on the driver’s window, yelling, “Jiang Huaiyu! Jiang Huaiyu!”
The airbags had deployed, and the force of the crash was evident.
“I’m fine, Yuyu. Don’t worry.” Jiang Huaiyu opened the door and immediately pulled Wen Shuyu into his arms.
She gently patted his shoulder, her eyes filled with worry. “Don’t move too much. Are you hurt anywhere? We should go to the hospital and get you checked.”
The passenger seat was completely crushed, the damage so severe she didn’t dare move him too much, fearing internal injuries.
As for the person who had been tailing her, he lay unconscious in his car, his condition unknown.
Jiang Huaiyu said nothing, holding her tightly. Wen Shuyu wasn’t sure if he was injured, but seeing no obvious wounds, she checked him over more thoroughly. His arms and legs seemed fine, but internal injuries were hard to detect.
She knew enough to realize that sometimes the person who looks unharmed at a crash site is the one most in danger.
Jiang Huaiyu let her examine him, and when she was done, he pulled her close again, gently rubbing her back. “Don’t be scared. I’m really okay.”
Suddenly, the woman in his arms began trembling, and his shirt grew damp.
Wen Shuyu was crying.
Jiang Huaiyu lifted a hand and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. Her eyes were red, sparkling with tears, and her hands trembled.
“Yuyu, I’m fine. Don’t cry. You’ve always been a crybaby, ever since we were kids.”
He even tried to lift her up, but Wen Shuyu quickly stopped him. “Don’t.”
From her view, Jiang Huaiyu stood tall in his gray-blue shirt, bathed in the soft glow of the streetlights, his eyes dark and clear.
Flustered by his gaze, Wen Shuyu lowered her head, her eyes falling on his wristwatch.
The dial had little fish swimming inside.
Where on earth did Jiang Huaiyu find so many fish-themed things?
“You were worried about me, weren’t you?” Jiang Huaiyu pulled her back into his arms, the tension in his face finally easing, his brows relaxing as though a weight had lifted from him.
Under the warm yellow streetlights, moths fluttered around the glow, while a man and a woman embraced beneath it.
Occasionally, a car sped by, its engine noise reminding Wen Shuyu that they were still at the roadside.
She pulled away from Jiang Huaiyu’s chest and sniffled. “Of course I was worried. You saved me. And besides, your parents have always been so kind to me.”
The person tailing her had sped up to make his move, but Jiang Huaiyu had intercepted him just in time, preventing what could have been a disaster.
The lingering fear washed over her, and that’s why she had cried.
Once she was certain Jiang Huaiyu was unharmed, Wen Shuyu wiped her tears and stepped back, returning to her usual calm.
So that’s how it was. Jiang Huaiyu had misread her feelings.
Still, he called softly, “Wife.”
Out of habit, Wen Shuyu responded, “Yes?”
Her concern was the best sign he could have hoped for.
He shouldn’t ask for more.
But he couldn’t help it.
People are never fully satisfied.
When the traffic police arrived, they reviewed the dashcam footage and nearby surveillance, piecing together what had happened.
After watching the video, the officer said gravely, “That was incredibly dangerous. Next time, call the police right away.”
Wen Shuyu and Jiang Huaiyu both answered at once, “Understood. Thank you.”
The most pressing issue was to get the injured person to the hospital.
The man responsible for the crash was still lying unconscious in his car.
At Wen Shuyu’s insistence, Jiang Huaiyu agreed to go to the nearest hospital with her.
After a thorough examination, the doctor concluded that Jiang Huaiyu had sprained his right wrist.
He had been hiding the pain to keep Wen Shuyu from worrying.
The doctor said, “Luckily, there’s no sign of a concussion. As for the wrist, it might not feel too bad now, but by tomorrow morning, it’ll be a different story. Avoid using it, eat with your left hand for about a week, and apply this ointment.”
Jiang Huaiyu nodded. “Thank you, doctor.”
Thankfully, there were no internal injuries.
As for the man who had been following them, he remained in a coma but had no severe internal damage.
The police used the driver’s license to identify him. “Do you know Ding Jingming?”
Wen Shuyu nodded, “Yes, he’s the husband of one of my clients.”
Given the case’s involvement in a legal dispute, the police had seen plenty of similar situations.
“We understand,” the officer said after reviewing the evidence. The matter of responsibility was clear.
Jiang Huaiyu, still shaken, asked, “Why was he following you?”
Because of the privacy of her client, Wen Shuyu couldn’t reveal everything. “We’re nearing a second appeal. He probably wanted to scare me, stop me from showing up in court.”
Jiang Huaiyu couldn’t shake off the fear. “Fish, I’m scared. What if I hadn’t made it in time?”
His voice trembled at the thought. If she had been the one injured, how much would it have hurt?
She had faced so many of these situations, maybe that’s why she could brush it off so easily.
“It’s nothing,” Wen Shuyu reassured him. “In broad daylight, he wouldn’t have dared to really do anything.”
She was used to this. Over the years, she had received countless anonymous hate letters, and her car tires had been slashed more than once. But this—being stalked in such a brazen way—this was a first.
Lin Silo arrived shortly after, forehead glistening with sweat. “Lawyer Wen, are you alright? I’m so sorry for the trouble. I’ll cover all the medical bills.”
Wen Shuyu patted her arm. “It’s fine, don’t worry about me. Just make sure you protect yourself. Be extra cautious until the trial. If he can go after me, I fear he might target you next.”
“I know,” Lin Silo replied, her voice tense. She had already been hurt before; it was shocking enough that her husband would target her lawyer now.
Before long, Ding Jingming, Lin’s estranged husband, regained consciousness. Under the watchful eyes of the police and surveillance footage, he admitted to everything. He’d intended to scare Wen Shuyu, thinking that because she was a young woman, it would be easy.
He was quick to plead guilty.
The final judgment was lenient: Ding Jingming was charged with malicious stalking and dangerous driving. However, since the incident wasn’t severe enough to qualify as a crime, he was sentenced to five days of administrative detention, fined 200 yuan, and ordered to pay for medical and repair bills.
At least, with him recovering from the accident and detained, he wouldn’t cause any more trouble before the court session.
They could finally breathe a little easier.
Lin Silo was still full of apologies. “It’s so late now, Lawyer Wen. Let me treat you both to dinner.”
Wen Shuyu smiled softly. “No need. You should head home and rest.”
Lin Silo didn’t insist, as the bond between her and her husband had long since eroded, worn away by years of domestic abuse. In truth, she would be glad if he died.
As they parted ways, Wen Shuyu turned to Jiang Huaiyu, feeling guilty. “Let me treat you to a fancy dinner. I owe you for saving me.”
She wanted to repay the favor, though she knew such a debt was never easy to settle.
Jiang Huaiyu, unfazed, teased, “If you really want to thank me, how about changing how you address me?”
“Oh, I’ll try.” It felt strange to address him so casually, so she practiced. “Husband. Husband.”
At first, it was awkward, but as she repeated it, her voice softened with emotion. “Husband.”
“That’s enough,” Jiang said, tugging at his collar, feeling a sudden rush of warmth.
By the time everything was taken care of, it was near midnight. The summer breeze was gentle, and the trees cast soft shadows under the streetlights. Roses bloomed, and the inky sky was dotted with stars.
“You’re really okay,” Wen Shuyu mused, a sigh of relief escaping her lips.
They stopped by a 24-hour diner, where she ordered some light dishes to go. Back at the apartment, Jiang Huaiyu, with his injured right hand, struggled with the chopsticks, watching as the food kept slipping away.
Wen Shuyu put down her own chopsticks. “Let me feed you.”
Jiang raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Alright, thank you, Fish.”
Luckily, he’d already thrown the fork in the trash.
After the night’s tension had finally eased, Wen Shuyu asked, “Do you need help with a shower?”
Jiang scratched his ear. “I think I can manage.”
He wouldn’t dare let her help him, even if she offered.
From the bathroom, the sound of rushing water filled the air, the frosted glass door muffling it slightly. Wen Shuyu leaned against the door, waiting just in case he needed anything.
Jiang emerged in a bathrobe, his hair damp and clinging to his forehead, his figure surrounded by a cloud of mist.
“What’s up, Fish?”
“I’m here to put your medicine on,” she replied.
Jiang nodded towards the bedside table. “It’s right there.”
Wen Shuyu carefully unwrapped the herbal patch, the strong scent of medicine filling the air, overtaking Jiang’s usual woodsy cologne. She followed the instructions on the package, her hands gentle as she applied it. She even puffed her cheeks and blew on the area, as if to make the pain go away faster. “There, all done. You used to do that for me.”
Back when they were children, whenever she got hurt, Jiang Huaiyu would always patch her up and blow on her wounds to ease the sting.
They were the same age, yet he had always been the one to take care of her.
Jiang chuckled. “Doesn’t hurt at all now. Fish, you must have magic.”
She smiled, a bright, joyful laugh escaping her. Her gaze met Jiang’s, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. Then her eyes drifted lower—accidentally catching sight of something she shouldn’t have.
Her face reddened. “Alright, I’ll… I’ll head out now.”
But before she could leave, Jiang’s left hand caught hers. He grinned, teasing her. “Sneaking a peek and trying to run, Fish?”
With his height advantage, Jiang had seen everything. She clearly wanted to look but didn’t dare, her gaze darting around nervously.
Nearly stumbling into his arms, Wen Shuyu stopped herself just in time, stammering, “You’re the one who didn’t tie your robe properly. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before!”
He was, after all, wearing a deep V-neck bathrobe with the sash hanging loose, his chest half-exposed.
Jiang let out a low laugh as she turned to leave in a hurry.
“Door’s on the right, by the way,” he called after her, still grinning.
She spun around, glaring at him. “I know that! I was looking for the trash can.”
In a room this small, how could she possibly get lost? She had just been distracted, replaying the image of his abs in her mind.
“Goodnight, wife. And next time, just take a good look if you want.”
“I don’t want to look,” she retorted, her voice stiff. Then she added awkwardly, “Goodnight, husband.”
It would take time to get used to.
Jiang lay back on his bed, his hand idly tracing over the patch, which still carried her warmth.
In the next room, separated by just one wall, Wen Shuyu found herself remembering the fleeting glimpse of his toned body. Who knew he had such abs and muscles? She wished she had taken a longer look.
His abs were perfectly defined, with not a trace of extra fat. His waist was lean yet strong, the contours flawless.
He looked slim in clothes, but shirtless? He had a body sculpted with muscle. Who would’ve thought?
A sudden, mischievous curiosity flitted through her mind—what would it feel like to touch? Would it be hard, or soft?
Shaking her head furiously, Wen Shuyu scolded herself. “Wen Shuyu, stop it! Don’t go after the forbidden fruit!”
Jiang Huaiyu, under her strict orders, had been forced to rest at home. She pressed him into a chair, saying, “Ding Jingming is in the hospital and will be in detention next. I’m perfectly safe. I’ll be back to feed you lunch.”
He smirked. “Alright. Call me if anything happens.” After a nap, a dull pain spread through his limbs from the near miss of the accident.
Wen Shuyu didn’t intend to hide the news from Meng Man. Surprisingly, Meng Man didn’t say much, but Cheng Xianzhi asked, “Are you sure you want to continue? Your personal safety is being threatened.”
Wen Shuyu didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I have to personally see that they’re all brought to justice.”
“The purpose of law is to apply justice fairly to all, to protect and aid the innocent. That’s our mission, isn’t it?”
Compared to the harm others have faced, my safety is insignificant.
On an overcast day, as the sun dipped behind the clouds, Cheng Xianzhi noticed the gleam of determination in Wen Shuyu’s eyes—confident and undaunted.
She’s no pampered rich girl, here just for show. I misjudged her, thought Cheng Xianzhi, humbled.
Wen Shuyu chuckled, “Surprised I’m not just some spoiled heiress, huh?”
Cheng Xianzhi laughed, slightly embarrassed. “Yeah, I admit I underestimated you.”
Wen Shuyu waved it off. “No, I still have a lot to prove.”
“Let’s work on it together,” Cheng Xianzhi replied with newfound respect.
Immersed in reviewing Lin Siluo’s divorce case, time slipped away. At 12:30, Wen Shuyu grabbed her keys and rushed home.
When she opened the door, four people stood inside.
Confused, she asked, “Dad? Mom? What are you doing here?”
Could news have traveled so fast? She hadn’t expected her parents to know so soon.
Her mother wore a stern expression. “Such a serious incident, and you didn’t tell us? It was Liu Ayi who discovered it while cleaning.”
Wen Shuyu rubbed the back of her head. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
This instinct—to report the good and hide the bad—was ingrained in every child.
Seeing Jiang Huaiyu’s parents there as well, Wen Shuyu felt even more guilty. “Dad, Mom, I’m so sorry. Huaiyu got hurt because of me.”
Because of her, Jiang Huaiyu had almost been in a terrible accident. He was their only son.
Jiang’s mother gently patted Wen Shuyu’s hand. “It was his own doing, trying to be a hero without even calling the police.”
She had already heard the whole story.
Wen’s mother then chimed in, “Do you really need to keep doing this legal aid work? Wouldn’t it be safer to just take on company consultancies? What if next time it’s worse?”
Her voice rose in concern.
Wen Shuyu protested, “Mom!”
A heated argument between mother and daughter was about to erupt.
Sensing the tension, Jiang Huaiyu shot his parents a look, and they wisely retreated to the kitchen.
Jiang Huaiyu’s voice was calm, like a gentle stream. “Mom, I understand you’re worried about Yuyu. I worry about her too. But this is her passion, and I promise you—I’ll protect her. I won’t let her get hurt.”
He had a talent for diffusing conflicts, speaking with a soothing assurance.
Wen’s father added support, “He’s right. The kids are grown up, they know what they’re doing. And Huaiyu will look out for her. No need to get upset.”
Finally, Wen’s mother softened. “You’re all ganging up on me now? It’s all my fault, huh?”
Wen Shuyu wrapped her arms around her mother’s. “Mom, you’re the most beautiful, generous, and amazing woman ever! How could you be wrong? I’m sorry for worrying you. I promise—I’ll take care of myself.”
She even raised four fingers, making a solemn vow with exaggerated seriousness.
Her mother smiled and tapped her forehead. “You and your sweet words…”
“It’s the truth, though!” Wen Shuyu insisted with a playful grin.
Her mother didn’t press her further about giving up the legal aid work. Wen Shuyu understood her parents’ concerns, but she had her own convictions.
Later, after calming the situation, Wen Shuyu went to change Jiang Huaiyu’s medicine, gently blowing on it as always. “Huaiyu, thank you.”
If it hadn’t been for him, she would’ve had another argument with her mom.
He had always stood by her side, supporting her decisions. From childhood, he was the perfect example of a protective older brother.
Jiang Huaiyu rolled up his sleeve, revealing his pale wrist, the blue veins visible beneath his skin.
As Wen Shuyu applied the new patch, her eyes caught on his left wrist—a simple red string bracelet.
She moved closer and saw it more clearly. It was old, the color faded and worn, as though it had been cherished for years. She wondered what made him hold onto it so dearly.
She noticed faint letters carved into the beads, but before she could get a better look, Jiang Huaiyu tugged down his sleeve, pulling her closer.
With a mischievous smile, he gently grasped her wrist, his gaze locking onto hers. “Wifey, a ‘thank you’ can’t just be words, right?”
“How about something more… substantial? Like, say… offering yourself as repayment?”