Chapter 12: Wang Wanru's Interrogation
1566 Words
"Tianyou... you... did you just fall from the sky like a heavenly soldier?"
Su Xin'er's tear-streaked eyes sparkled like stars, overflowing with worship and adoration.
The question stabbed straight through Zhang Tianyou's heart.
Heavenly soldier?
No. He wasn't that.
He was just a ghost clawing his way back from hell, carrying two lifetimes of sins on his back.
He just couldn't bear to watch this star of his get swallowed whole by the muddy swamp of reality.
He couldn't say any of that, of course.
He looked at the girl's face, tear-streaked and vulnerable, and something inside him softened to liquid. He raised his hand—the way he used to, in that other life—to gently ruffle her hair.
But halfway there, he forced it to stop.
He held back.
Right now, in the eyes of the law, he was still Wang Wanru's husband. Until he cut that absurd tie for good, he couldn't give Xin'er any false hope. Couldn't let anyone have ammunition to tear her down.
He lowered his hand. Mustered a smile—warm, but carefully distant.
"Silly girl. Don't talk nonsense. I just happen to know some people in certain circles. Heard a few things about their business."
Casual. Effortless. He reduced that godlike intervention to simple "connections."
Then he turned to Hei Bao, who was still standing there dazed.
"Hei Bao. You're done here. Pull your people out—don't scare the students. Come find me at Vision Capital tomorrow."
"Yes, Tianyou-ge!"
Hei Bao didn't ask a single question. Just nodded sharply and waved his hand. The dozen or so hulking men in black, who moments ago had radiated pure menace, retreated like a receding tide. They melted back into those black** vans as silently as they'd appeared—as if they'd never been there at all.
The efficiency left Li Jing standing nearby, jaw practically on the floor.
With the crisis handled, Zhang Tianyou turned back to Su Xin'er, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"It's late. You and Li Jing get back to the dorm. Remember—anything like this happens again, you call me immediately."
"Mm..." Su Xin'er nodded obediently, but her eyes were still heavy with worry and guilt. "Tianyou-ge, that two hundred thousand..."
"That was a loan," Zhang Tianyou cut her off, his voice firm now. "Pay me back when you're on your feet. For now, don't dwell on it. Study hard. Take care of yourself. That's what matters."
He knew—this girl, with her fiercely stubborn pride, could only accept it if he framed it as a loan.
He watched until Su Xin'er and Li Jing disappeared into the dormitory building, supporting each other. Only then did he finally exhale.
He turned to leave this troubled place behind.
---
What he didn't see was the pair of eyes watching from across the street—burning with jealousy and rage, having witnessed every single moment from inside a black Bentley.
Wang Wanru sat in the driver's seat, trembling with fury.
She saw it all.
She saw Zhang Tianyou descend like a god from heaven, shielding that girl Xin'er behind him.
She saw Brother Dao—so arrogant moments before—groveling like a whipped dog in front of Zhang Tianyou, slapping his own face!
She saw Zhang Tianyou pull out his phone and casually transfer two hundred thousand! For a girl he'd known only a few days! Without even blinking!
She saw those black vans materialize out of nowhere, and those thugs bowing to him!
And finally—she saw the way Su Xin'er looked at him. That worship. That adoration. And the genuine tenderness on Zhang Tianyou's face—something he had never, not once, shown her.
Scene after scene. Like red-hot knives, plunging into Wang Wanru's heart again and again.
Jealousy blazed, threatening to incinerate her reason.
WHY?!
What was so special about that girl?! To deserve all this from him?!
And her—his lawful, wedded wife—what was she in his eyes? NOTHING?!
No!
She wouldn't accept this!
Zhang Tianyou! You're MINE! You're MY husband, Wang Wanru's husband! Even if you're garbage, you're MY garbage!
Your money, your tenderness, everything you have—should be MINE!
The deranged thought consumed her completely.
When she saw him turn to leave alone, she couldn't contain the fire inside any longer.
*VRROOOOM—!*
The Bentley's engine roared like a caged beast!
Wang Wanju floored the accelerator!
The black chassis shot across the road like a lightning bolt—reckless, insane—and executed a savage drift, tires shrieking, slamming to a halt directly in front of Zhang Tianyou, blocking his path!
Headlights blazed, engulfing him in harsh white light, casting a long, lonely shadow behind him.
Zhang Tianyou stopped dead. Squinting against the glare, he recognized the familiar Bentley—the symbol of Wang family power.
The door flew open with a *bang*.
Wang Wanru stepped out.
Gone was the daytime Chanel suit. She wore a tight black dress now, every curve of her devilish figure on full display.
But her face—that stunning face—held none of its usual icy aloofness. In its place: a mask of fury, jealousy, and barely contained madness.
Her eyes were bloodshot, fixed on him like a cornered leopard ready to strike.
"Get in the car!"
Her voice was hoarse and cold. A command. No room for refusal.
Zhang Tianyou's brow furrowed at the sight of her.
He hadn't realized she'd been following him. He assumed she'd come here specifically to ambush him.
[What does this crazy woman want now?]
[Wasn't the daytime drama at home enough? Now she's chasing me out here to keep up the insanity?]
[Can't shake her, can I?]
Annoyance flooded him. He just wanted to get back to the hotel, plan Vision Capital's next move, and not waste time on this.
He didn't even bother speaking. Just walked around the front of the car.
"I SAID STOP!"
The dismissal shattered whatever was left of her control. She lunged forward, arms spread wide, blocking him bodily!
"Zhang Tianyou!"
Her eyes were blazing now, nearly hysterical:
"WHO IS THAT GIRL?!"
"WHY DID YOU GIVE HER TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND?!"
"DON'T YOU FORGET—RIGHT NOW, YOU'RE STILL *MY* HUSBAND!"
The last line was almost a scream.
It came from somewhere primal—that bone-deep, unquestioning sense of ownership. As if Zhang Tianyou were her property, and every penny he spent required her approval.
Zhang Tianyou stopped.
He turned. Looked at this woman, unraveling before him like a madwoman. His eyes held no anger, no surprise. Only a cold, bone-deep mockery.
[My husband?]
[Ha. What a joke.]
[Wang Wanru. Three years of marriage. Did you ever, for one single day, act like a wife?]
[Did you ever wash a single piece of my laundry? Cook me one meal? When I was sick, did you ask after me even once?]
[No. You didn't.]
[In your eyes, I was just a tool—to fill your emptiness and ward off gossip. You never even remembered my birthday. Didn't know I'm allergic to alcohol.]
[And now—now that you see me being kind to another girl—you can't stand it?]
[Now you're jealous? Now you want to pull the "wife" card?]
[Don't you see how ridiculous this is?]
[It's TOO LATE.]
[Wang Wanru. It's FAR too late.]
[From the moment you slapped that divorce agreement in front of me—from the moment I came back to this life—you and I have been DONE.]
His thoughts carved into her like the sharpest blades, slicing open that pathetic, laughable pride of hers. Stripping bare the so-called "love" she'd built on a foundation of superiority.
Wang Wanru heard every word—felt each one like a knife twisting in her chest.
Pain.
A kind of agony she'd never known—sharp, suffocating—exploded from her heart and radiated through every cell of her body.
Her mouth opened. Closed. No words came.
Because everything he said was *true*.
Under the merciless judgment of his silent thoughts, her interrogation withered into something pale, powerless. Pathetic.
Zhang Tianyou looked at her pain-twisted face and felt... nothing. No pity.
Slowly, deliberately, he raised his hand. With two fingers, he gently pushed aside the arms blocking his path—those soft arms he had once, in another life, desperately longed for.
Then, in a voice colder than a frozen vault, more indifferent than anything she'd ever heard, he spoke four words.
"None. Of. Your. Business."
He didn't look back. Didn't pause for even a second. He walked past her, and his figure quickly dissolved into the darkness at the street's end.
---
Leaving Wang Wanru alone.
Frozen.
Still standing there, arms outstretched, like a statue whose soul had been ripped away.
The glaring headlights illuminated her tear-streaked face. Illuminated her hollow eyes—eyes filled with nothing but despair and anguish.
*None of your business.*
Those four words. And that cold, judgmental monologue. They echoed in her skull, over and over. Weaving a web she couldn't escape, trapping her inside.
Her heart... it hurt.
So *this* was what heartbreak felt like...
Wang Wanru slowly sank down. Buried her face in her knees. Her shoulders shook violently. And the sobs she'd been holding back—they finally erupted, unchecked, uncontrollable, in the empty street.
- Writer
