"He'll be collateral damage?" The old man snorted inwardly. If Zitong was his daughter-in-law, then he was family; if not, he was still part of the family. "You're the state-assigned guards. My family isn't entitled to such protection. To be frank, dispatching you to Qing Shan City to discreetly watch over Zitong's safety is already overstepping my bounds. How could I possibly arrange for you to provide close protection?"
"As for Li Nanfang, leave him be," the old man continued, a mischievous glint appearing in his otherwise stern eyes. "If he meets an unfortunate end, that's his fate."
"Yes, sir, I understand," the man replied respectfully, waiting a moment before ending the call.
The old man placed the receiver down, gazed at the horizon outside his window, and chuckled to himself, "You little rascal, you could come openly and honestly, yet you always choose to play possum and take advantage of my granddaughter. What's that about?"
There's no such thing as a free lunch, and Li Nanfang was no exception. The police were quite the nuisance, arriving so promptly—why couldn't they have had a flat tire on the way? Instead, they insisted on conducting a site investigation, forcing him to leave Yue Zitong's warm embrace.
The police officers, alerted by the call, arrived swiftly but were unfazed by the scene of scattered sticks and a bloodied Li Nanfang in Yue Zitong's arms. This was all too routine for them—just another gang fight. They knew the culprits had fled, so they went through the motions: taking photos, sending the victims to the hospital, and filing a report. When they might apprehend the thugs was anyone's guess; they had more critical and dangerous tasks at hand.
A recent confidential notice from the Provincial Department warned of international assassins infiltrating Qing Shan City, plotting crimes. All units were urged to stay vigilant and apprehend them before they struck.
Given the involvement of Jin's uncle, Yue Zitong didn't want to escalate the situation. She declined the police offer to take them to the hospital and vaguely stated she had no knowledge of the thugs' identities, speculating they might be business rivals targeting Kaihuang Group.
The police, recognizing the complexity of corporate rivalry, knew this was beyond their jurisdiction. Sensing Yue Zitong's reluctance to delve deeper, the officers seized the opportunity to leave swiftly. The sirens faded into the dusk in the blink of an eye.
Night fell, and the wind picked up. Yue Zitong limped to the car, opened the door, and turned to Li Nanfang, "Get in. We're going to the hospital."
After being comforted by Yue Zitong's warmth, Li Nanfang seemed much more composed. "I'm fine. Just a few bumps and bruises—superficial wounds. A Band-Aid will do. But your foot—did you know I've learned some traditional bone-setting techniques? Do you trust me? If so, let me take a look."
"I think it's dislocated. Can you handle it?" Yue Zitong slowly wiggled her right foot, sizing up Li Nanfang before bluntly remarking, "Kid, you're not trying to take advantage of my situation to… play with my foot, are you? Hmm, it's getting chilly. Get in the car."
"Aunt Yue, I must say, your mind is quite filthy," Li Nanfang retorted, circling the car and settling into the passenger seat. He turned on the interior light, feigning disgust. "What's so fun about a pig's trotter? I'm not some psychological deviant with a foot fetish. Besides, I've already—"
"Shut up!" Yue Zitong's face flushed scarlet as she snapped, her eyes narrowing menacingly. "If it weren't for your earlier bravery, I'd knock out all your teeth!"
"Fine, I'll shut up," Li Nanfang shrugged nonchalantly, though he didn't actually comply. "Let's go to the hospital then. Let strangers touch your pig's trotter. That way, I won't have to get my hands dirty."
"I've decided. You're the one to do it," Yue Zitong declared, lifting her right foot onto Li Nanfang's knee.
"Aren't you worried I might take liberties?" Li Nanfang queried.
"If I ever become your wife, it's my duty to let you play," Yue Zitong replied indifferently.
Chapter 46: Learning to Accept Him
Yue Zitong was true to her name—her words were straightforward and dominant, leaving those who secretly indulged with numerous men and yet feigned morality in the dust. However, it was clear that her statement was merely a duty, akin to serving in the military to protect one's country—a civic obligation devoid of tenderness.
Li Nanfang found the remark particularly grating. He longed for her to blush and speak in a coquettish tone, saying something like, "Dear nephew, if I don't let you play, who else deserves to?" Such words would bring him joy and perhaps even mend their half-married relationship that night.
But Yue Zitong would never utter such words, even under duress. She treated her foot as if it were a mere transaction, placing it on Li Nanfang's knee and beginning to clean her face with a wet wipe.
Gazing at the foot, Li Nanfang felt a sense of disillusionment: With such an attitude, no matter how beautiful she was, no man would covet her company. What was the difference between a woman devoid of charm and an inflatable doll?
He didn't want to tend to her, truly he didn't, but with her foot resting on his knee, he had no choice. Moreover, since he had entangled her in this predicament, he bore the responsibility to heal her.
Fine, since both were obligations, there was nothing more to discuss. But next time, don't expect me to cling to your embrace and let you feel my overwhelming presence!
Li Nanfang silently vowed, removing Yue Zitong's flat shoe. Blood had seeped through her sheer black stockings from the blow to her ankle. The stick had not only dislocated her joint but also scraped her skin. Fortunately, Yue had dodged just in time, sparing her ankle from permanent damage.
Allowing a beautiful woman to walk with a limp was unforgivable. Li Nanfang resolved to settle this score—not for Yue Zitong, but for all the beauty in the world deserving of care and protection. A woman's elegance was meant to be cherished, not reduced to a cripple by violence. Such an act was akin to burning a lute to boil a crane—utterly vulgar and heinous.
Yue Zitong's skin was as tender and fair as snow, her feet dainty. Even after their intimate encounters, when her heel was grasped, her toes curled like silkworms, and she bit her lip, averting her gaze. Many say a woman's feet are her second face, but Li Nanfang disagreed. Except for Arabian women, most conceal their faces yet adorn their feet with as much elegance as possible. To Li Nanfang, a woman's feet were the epitome of mystery, second only to her most intimate parts, and more enticing than her proud breasts—a sentiment shared by veteran libertines and the root of foot fetishes.
Undoubtedly, Yue Zitong's exquisite feet were captivating enough to quicken Li Nanfang's pulse—had the circumstances been different. Now, however, they were not. Yue had made it clear that she allowed him to see her "second face" only because they might become husband and wife someday. This fell far short of Li Nanfang's desired intimacy.
If he continued to act shamelessly, he might as well dash himself against a wall.
Even Li Nanfang was surprised that when he clicked Yue Zitong's joint back into place and redressed her foot, his movements were natural and devoid of any lewd intentions. He treated her with the impartiality of a healer, disregarding her gender and the inherent allure of her feet.
"Done," Li Nanfang said, removing her foot from his knee and clapping his hands. "Try pressing down hard and see if it still hurts."
"Still a bit sore," Yue Zitong replied, her long eyelashes drooping low.
She regretted her earlier words, which had disrupted the fragile bond between them. Such remarks were hurtful and could effectively bruise a man's pride. No matter how shameless a man might be, he retains some semblance of self-respect. Once spoken, words cannot be收回, leaving behind an indescribable sense of loss.
"The ankle has minor bone damage, but it's not severe. It should recover fully by tomorrow night at the latest," Li Nanfang explained after a moment of thought. "Tomorrow, I'll stew some pig's trotters for you—don't mind this. Traditional Chinese medicine believes in the principle of 'like cures like.' Pig's trotters are rich in collagen, beneficial for repairing foot bone injuries, and even help with lactation. Hmm, my throat feels a bit itchy. Wait here; I'll go catch two free-range chickens."
Yue Zitong looked up and asked, "Still in the mood for free-range chicken?"
"Of course. We didn't come all this way to fight," Li Nanfang said with a smile, opening the car door. "Lock the car. I don't want anyone else entering before I return. Your car should have bulletproof glass, right? It's quite secure. Earlier, I suggested hiding inside, but you insisted on being a hero, which led to me getting beaten and bleeding. Now look at this mess."
Before Yue Zitong could get angry, Li Nanfang slammed the car door shut and strode toward the farm.
Unbeknownst to him, Yue Zitong showed no signs of anger. Watching his retreating figure disappear into the darkness, a look of confusion crossed her eyes.
After the fierce battle, she realized that the despicable Li Nanfang was not entirely useless. At the very least, he had risked his life to save her when she was in danger.
This single act, one might argue, made him worthy of being her man. However, Yue Zitong's decade-long resentment toward him was not so easily dissolved. This prompted her to utter those regrettable words, to demonstrate her disdain for him.
People, especially lovers, often engage in this paradoxical behavior. Despite caring deeply for one another, they sometimes can't help but wound each other with words.
Perhaps she should be gentler with him and try to accept him?
As Yue Zitong pondered this, Li Nanfang was on the phone: "When can you get to China?"
"Are you struggling on your own?" Ye Xiaodao's voice carried evident surprise. "Seriously, a top-tier assassin hasn't been after your aunt, has it?"
"No—if my instincts are right, two peers just passed by me. Not a big threat," Li Nanfang said, his lips curling in a faint, troubled smile. "I just felt a bit agitated and called you. I hope you can come sooner to keep an eye on her for me and deal with those two hidden fools."
"Aren't you usually heartless? Why the agitation over two insignificant pests?" Ye Xiaodao paused, then realized, "Wait, Li Nanfang, have you fallen for your aunt? Otherwise, why would you be troubled by a mere two cockroaches?"
"Who the hell knows!" Li Nanfang cursed, then continued, "Forget it, I just wanted to let you know. Hearing your voice has lifted my spirits. Carry on with your tasks and hurry up—don't make me wait too long."
Without waiting for Ye Xiaodao's response, Li Nanfang ended the call. As he had anticipated, his mood lightened considerably after the conversation. Even when the farm's dogs lunged at him, he refrained from kicking them away.
The farm owner, who had witnessed the entire brawl and seen Li Nanfang's ferocious display, was terrified. With Li Nanfang's bloodied face, he dared not treat him poorly. "Don't be scared, I'm a good guy," Li Nanfang reassured him, tossing two banknotes. "Catch me a few free-range chickens—alive is fine. I'll slaughter them myself when I get back. Can I borrow some water to wash my face?"
The owner wouldn't dare refuse. He brought out his rarely used soap and selected four plump chickens from the coop, placing them in a bamboo cage before Li Nanfang. After washing the blood from his face, the owner's tension eased—seeing Li Nanfang's harmless appearance, he figured the man wouldn't covet his homely wife hidden behind the door.
Noticing the owner's thoughts, Li Nanfang smiled but said nothing. He waved in gratitude, picked up the cage, and returned to the car, where Yue Zitong had already opened the trunk.
"Why are you in my seat?" Li Nanfang asked after placing the cage inside and noticing Yue Zitong in the passenger seat.
"My foot still hurts, so I'm worried about causing an accident while driving," she replied.
"You don't expect me to drive, do you?" Li Nanfang inquired.
"Then what do you think?" Yue Zitong retorted.
"I don't have a driver's license," Li Nanfang admitted.
"Few police patrol at night," Yue Zitong said nonchalantly.
"But I don't know how to drive," Li Nanfang insisted.
"I'll teach you," Yue Zitong offered, her delicate brows slightly furrowed. "Any more excuses?"
"None," Li Nanfang shrugged, taking the driver's seat and feigning a playful excitement. "Hand-by-hand teaching?"
"Hmm," Yue Zitong responded indifferently, extending her left hand. "Come on."
"Come on with what?" Li Nanfang asked, feigning ignorance.
"You said hand-by-hand teaching," Yue Zitong clarified.
"Forget it. Haven't ridden a pig, but seen you drive?" Li Nanfang chuckled, appearing proficient as he shifted gears, released the clutch, and pressed the accelerator, making engine noises: "Vroom, vroom—Hey, why isn't the car moving?"
Yue Zitong rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Mr. Li, you forgot to start the engine."
"Oh, right, I forgot. But don't underestimate me. I can ride a motorcycle," Li Nanfang nonchalantly admitted his ignorance, not wanting Yue to know he could drive. Otherwise, he'd lose his free chauffeur service. After all, with Yue's influence, obtaining a driver's license would be child's play.
Under Yue Zitong's patient guidance, Li Nanfang stalled the car three times before finally getting it moving. He drove cautiously along the roadside, eyes wide and beads of sweat forming on his forehead, constantly swallowing to show his nervousness.
Even more exasperatingly, upon spotting an approaching car 300 meters ahead, he abruptly slammed on the brakes, his right hand grabbing Yue Zitong's thigh in a panic as he shouted, "Where's the gear? Where did it go?"
"The Party is in Zhongnanhai, not between my legs, Mr. Li," Yue Zitong remarked, removing his wandering hand. "I'll drive."
This sigh of hers filled Li Nanfang with shame. He skillfully shifted gears, accelerated, and turned the steering wheel, swiftly increasing the car's speed as it roared forward.
"Can drive," Li Nanfang casually remarked as he overtook a truck, steering the wheel with one hand.
"Indeed, I just don't have a driver's license," Li Nanfang responded, his eyes catching Yue Zitong's glance. He spoke with a smugness, prepared to sternly warn her not to cause a scene while he was driving. Otherwise, they might both meet a grim end.
Unexpectedly, Yue Zitong simply took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and fell silent. This surprised Li Nanfang, who couldn't resist asking, "Aren't you angry?"
"If I got angry over every trivial matter, I'd be dead from your antics soon enough," Yue Zitong replied indifferently. "And if I truly were angry, you'd threaten me not to cause a scene, or else we'd both perish together."
"Aunt Yue, you're like a parasite in my gut, all squiggly and fleshy," Li Nanfang attempted a joke, but upon noticing the vein protruding on Yue Zitong's hand, he quickly fell silent.
The rest of the journey home was quiet. Yue Zitong kept her eyes slightly closed as if asleep. Once the car parked in the villa's courtyard, she immediately opened her eyes, exited the vehicle, and limped into the living room without sitting on the sofa as usual, heading straight for the stairs.
"Come down for dinner later; I'm stewing some free-range chicken," Li Nanfang called out to her retreating figure.
"Not hungry tonight," Yue Zitong responded without turning back, slamming her bedroom door shut.
Li Nanfang stood at the kitchen entrance, chin raised as he stared at the door in stunned silence. After placing the items in the fridge, he returned to his room, lying on the bare bed without undressing, staring wide-eyed at the window.
For some reason, Yue Zitong's lack of expected outrage left Li Nanfang feeling as if something was missing. This led him to doubt that his inherent贱ness (lowliness) had been activated, now spiraling out of control. Otherwise, he wouldn't feel this void and loss, even losing his appetite despite the growling of his stomach.
"Am I a天生贱种 (naturally despicable person) by birth?" After tossing and turning for a long while, Li Nanfang couldn't find a comfortable position. He got up and wandered out of his room, into the courtyard like a ghost, lighting a cigarette in the darkness.
After finishing the cigarette, Li Nanfang felt much better. He decided to make something to eat. If Ye Xiaodao knew he was sulking over not being scolded by a woman, he'd laugh so hard he'd lose his teeth.
As a top-tier assassin, maintaining a relaxed mindset was paramount. No wonder some say that top-tier assassins cannot afford to have love, as love can distract, lead to absent-mindedness, and make one overly sentimental at critical moments, ultimately causing self-harm.
Li Nanfang firmly believed he wasn't in love with Yue Zitong. For one, it had been too short a time. For another, he didn't like cold, domineering women. He preferred someone like Min Rou—gentle, lovely, and with a good sense of humor.
However, he couldn't deny the unfamiliar feeling he had just experienced. With so many women he'd been with, he always forgot their faces after parting. Why then did Yue Zitong's mere indifference leave him restless and sleepless?
Unbeknownst to him, as he pondered these questions in the dark, Yue Zitong was laughing so hard behind the door she was nearly rolling on the floor, all the while biting her lips to stifle the sound, lest Li Nanfang realize she was feigning indifference.
Men, as Yue Zitong had learned from her sister abroad, are often贱骨头 (despicable to the bone). The more you care for them, the more they take advantage and fail to cherish your feelings. But if you treat them coldly, even if you accidentally hurt them, they'll become anxious and try every means to please you.
Previously, Yue Zitong had dismissed such advice, believing she didn't need to pretend indifference or flatter any man. But now she realized her sister was right. After Li Nanfang deceived her and prepared for her expected outburst, Yue Zitong had also readied to teach him a lesson. However, she recalled her sister's words and restrained her anger to feign indifference— which proved to be surprisingly effective, even better than breaking his head with an object.
Why wasn't Li Nanfang in the mood to eat? Why did he lie in his room for so long before smoking outside in the courtyard? It was all because of her cold shoulder, leaving him at a loss and wondering how to please her.
Hearing the sound of the living room door, Yue Zitong peered through the slightly open gap and saw Li Nanfang enter the kitchen. Soon, the clattering of pots and pans began.
"Ah, kid, if you don't call me for dinner after cooking, I'll change my surname!" Yue Zitong sighed contentedly, limping to the dressing table to check her injuries.
The bruises on her shoulders and back were of little concern; as long as there were no broken bones or torn ligaments, they'd fade in two days. The real issue was her right ankle, which throbbed painfully from Guang's strike. However, this wasn't a major problem. As a trained agent, Yue Zitong was accustomed to minor injuries during training. Her bedroom contained a first-aid kit with medicinal liquor for inflammation and pain relief. After washing up, she massaged the injured areas, instantly feeling lighter.
As for Li Nanfang, his forehead injury, though daunting in appearance, was something Yue considered tending to. But she quickly dismissed the thought: She must not show the slightest concern, lest he overstep his bounds.
Despite her aches and pains, Yue Zitong felt surprisingly refreshed. After her bath and application of the medicinal liquor, she lounged on her bed, reading a magazine as she awaited Li Nanfang's summons to dinner. The aroma wafting through the door裂缝 acted like an invisible hand, tickling her appetite and eliciting growls from her stomach.
Yue Zitong had barely eaten at noon due to the fleet management department's taunting chants of "Pants-Wetting Knight." Coupled with the intense battle against ten hoodlums in the evening, her energy was severely drained, and now she was starving.
When Li Nanfang calls me for dinner, how should I refuse without making him furious?
Should I stay quiet?
No, that might make him think I've already gone to sleep and won't dare to disturb me.
Should I pretend I'm not hungry?
No, what if he believes me and stops eating?
It turned out that Yue Zitong, worried about how to decline Li Nanfang's dinner invitation, was overthinking things.
Because Li Nanfang never actually called her to eat. Yue felt perplexed, especially when she heard the sound of gnawing on bones. Unable to resist, she quietly slipped to the door and peeked out—Li Nanfang was seated on the living room sofa, a small basin on the coffee table in front of him, and half a chicken in his hands. He was greedily gnawing like a wolf.
He didn't call me and started eating alone?
Yue Zitong, witnessing this, almost couldn't believe her eyes. Her teeth clenched in frustration: Why is he eating alone and not inviting me? Scum!
She nearly burst out to confront him but stopped herself in time: Am I pretending to be cold? Why am I pretending to be cold? I'm actually hungry.
Never mind, it's just one meal. It's not a big deal. If she won't invite me, I'll starve! In her mind, she fiercely scolded and swallowed hard before slowly returning to bed, repeatedly convincing herself: I'm not hungry, I'm not hungry. I'll sleep now, and soon it will be morning. Hmph, even if he's as attentive as ever and the food tastes delicious tomorrow, I won't eat a single bite.
But she was truly hungry.
The aroma of the chicken kept streaming through the door crack, making Yue's fingers twitch incessantly. Annoyed, she pulled a pillow over her head and cursed viciously: "Eat, eat, stuff yourself!"
Unaware of whether Li Nanfang had overeaten, Yue only knew that after lying there for a solid hour and a half, her hunger hadn't subsided in the slightest. She sat up abruptly: What am I doing? I'm the master of this house. If I'm hungry, I should eat without needing anyone's approval.
With determination, Yue Zitong swung her legs out of bed, disregarding her aching foot, and quickly made her way to the door. To her surprise, the living room lights were already off, with moonlight spilling across the floor like a layer of mercury.
By the moon's glow, she noticed Li Nanfang was gone, but the basin of chicken still sat on the coffee table, likely cooled by now, yet still emitting an enticing aroma.