Beautiful Wife: The Cold Boss is My Husband - Chapter 5

Assistant Yuan had braced himself for Yan Chenrui’s anger, but to his surprise, the man merely paused for a moment before asking, “How’s the preparation for tomorrow’s meeting coming along?”

Assistant Yuan froze for two seconds before replying, “Everything has been arranged as per your instructions.”

Yan Chenrui said nothing, merely nodding in response.

As Assistant Yuan was about to leave, his gaze instinctively swept over the items on the CEO’s desk, searching for any tasks he could proactively assist with. But then he noticed an unfamiliar proposal atop the stack of documents on the right.

Just as he hesitated whether to ask about it, Yan Chenrui spoke up, “Go attend to your work.”

…

After storming out of the company, Yan Chengming suddenly changed direction.

Yan Corporation’s headquarters was located in the bustling business district. In theory, the property management was strict. No pets were allowed, so there shouldn’t have been any dogs around. Yet, at some point, a mixed-breed stray, part Golden Retriever and part Husky, had appeared, roaming around and outsmarting security, earning itself the respectful nickname “The Great Yellow Dog Warrior.”

“Tsk, tsk.” Holding a lunchbox, Yan Chengming glanced around to ensure no one was watching before crouching down and making the universal dog-calling sound. He muttered under his breath, “Saw it here last time. Where’d it go?”

A rustling sound came from the west. Yan Chengming’s eyes lit up as he headed in that direction. Perhaps alerted by the footsteps, a low, wary growl echoed through the quiet space.

The Great Yellow Dog—stocky with a bloody gash on its forehead, likely from a fight with either a human or another dog—lowered its body, head extended, round eyes fixed intently as a deep, rumbling growl emanated from its throat.

“Woof! Woof! Woof!”

Unfortunately, this tactic had no effect on Yan Chengming. The dog quickly switched strategies, straightening up and letting out a series of sharp barks while backing away, tail tucked between its legs.

Yan Chengming grew anxious. “Hey, I’m here to feed you out of the goodness of my heart. What’s with the barking? If you attract people, my domineering CEO image will be ruined.”

He strode forward and clamped a hand over the dog’s snout. If humans and animals shared similar emotions, the Great Yellow Dog’s wide, black eyes would undoubtedly be brimming with shock: This guy plays dirty?!

“That’s more like it—no barking.” With one hand still gripping the dog’s muzzle, Yan Chengming flipped open the lunchbox with the other, waving it smugly under the dog’s nose. “Smells good, doesn’t it? My wife’s cooking is amazing, right? You’re lucky I’m sharing this with you. From now on, show some respect. Call me ‘Big Bro.’ None of this ‘woof woof’ nonsense. It’s uncivilized, not how a good dog behaves.”

With that, he released the dog. A seasoned survivor of the streets, the Great Yellow Dog knew when to yield. Tempted by the obvious feast, it immediately wagged its tail and began devouring the shrimp on the ground.

Pleased, Yan Chengming stood up, pulled out his phone, and snapped a full 360-degree photoshoot of the dog. He then took a picture of the empty lunchbox and sent them all to Zhuo Xiao.

[Yan Chengming: [Photo][Photo][Photo]]

[Yan Chengming: Thanks, babe. The dog loved it! Ate everything up [Thumbs up]]

He swaggered away with his tail held high, exuding an air of arrogance. Big Yellow let out a whimper, paused his meal, and crouched low to the ground, gazing longingly at the retreating figure with a mournful, lingering howl as if saying, “Farewell, Big Brother Dog!”

…

Yan Chengming hummed a tune as he steered the wheel, driving the car out of the parking lot.

He used to love racing and had won consecutive championships in various competitions. At the peak of his glory, an accident suddenly struck, leaving him with lingering aftereffects. Now, whenever he touched a racing wheel, his hands would turn cold and tremble, his heart would tighten, and he’d be overwhelmed with sorrow like waking up in the dark afternoon to an empty house, abandoned by the entire world.

He had asked his racing buddies and teammates from his sponsored racing club, and they all said the accident happened while he was racing there. But Yan Chengming had no memory of it and found it hard to believe.

Seriously? He could navigate that track blindfolded. How could he possibly crash?

Given the extent of his brain injury, memory loss was possible, but not to the point of complete blankness. Eventually, it was attributed to psychological reasons. Yet Yan Chengming believed himself mentally sound. Life’s setbacks had all been smoothed over by his broad-mindedness, especially in his love life, which had been smooth sailing. Thus, he rarely saw a therapist.

Though he could no longer race, his love for driving remained. He satisfied his cravings with regular cars or supercars. Otherwise, given his personality and status, he would’ve hired a chauffeur to say, “President Yan, your car is ready,” or even drive his sick partner, Zhuo Xiao, to a doctor friend’s house in emergencies.

As he drove near the company building, he spotted a familiar figure. Assistant Liu sat on the edge of a marble planter, clutching a stack of documents, his brow furrowed with worry in the autumn breeze.

The smile on Yan Chengming’s face faded. After a moment’s thought, he pulled up beside Assistant Liu and rolled down the window.

Assistant Liu was clearly startled, not expecting to run into Yan Chengming here. He stood up awkwardly. “President Yan.”

Yan Chengming glanced at the documents in his hands, his handsome, chiseled face breaking into a domineering smirk. His voice was deep and commanding as he declared, “Don’t worry about work. You can still follow me in the future.”

Assistant Liu: “…Huh?”

Before he could process the meaning, the Maybach sped off in a flash, leaving only a trail of exhaust behind.

On the road, Yan Chengming checked the silent chat window and then the time. Something felt off—could someone really sleep this long while sick? Zhuo Xiao used to reply to his messages instantly.

What if someone had broken in and kidnapped Zhuo Xiao while he was away? To prevent such a scenario, he’d spent a fortune upgrading the villa’s security to the most advanced system in the world. Could even that fail?

Unconsciously, he accelerated. Instead of typing, he sent a voice message with one hand, his tone laced with concern: “Sweetheart, are you okay? I’m coming home now. Reply if you see this.”

As if misfortunes never came singly, every red light on his way home seemed agonizingly long. Clutching his phone at a stoplight, he stared at the unchanging chat screen, his heart sinking.

If anything happened to his beloved, what would he do?

He was willing to pay any ransom, sob.

……

The phone screen in the bedroom kept lighting up, with frequent message notifications from “hubby,” but it dimmed due to long neglect.

In the living room, Zhuo Xiao sat elegantly on the sofa in a white nightgown, holding a cup of hot tea. After taking a shallow sip, she set it down and casually raised her eyes to the opposite side, her voice cold: “Is there something you need?”

Standing opposite her was Chen Xi, dressed in a black suit, with a streak of dark purple dyed into his black hair. He looked harmless and even obedient, but a row of silver diamond earrings on his right ear could dazzle anyone.

Sensing the displeasure hidden in Zhuo Xiao’s tone, and glancing at her soft home attire and the overly cozy decor of the room, Chen Xi felt that his presence was indeed out of place. He awkwardly pinched his hands: “Uncle… uh, I mean, President Zhuo.”

Gathering his courage, he said, “I just came to see you.”

Zhuo Xiao lowered her gaze: “Is it you who wants to see me, or does he want to see me? Or is there someone else inquiring about my situation? After two years away, I’m afraid the family has spread rumors that I’m dead.”

“No, there are no such rumors; it’s me who wants to see you.” Chen Xi answered, forcing himself. At that moment, Zhuo Xiao looked up at him, her gaze icy and imposing, not saying a word, but it felt as if he was being held at knife point. He quickly changed his tone, “Actually, Mr. Xi wants me to ask about your recent situation. Also, that… the old man is sick again and insists on seeing you.”

Chen Xi thought he heard Zhuo Xiao scoff, but her expression remained as cold as ever.

Zhuo Xiao seemed to find the conversation uninteresting. She glanced at the time; it would be several hours before Yan Chengming got off work. She couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed: “Is there nothing important? If it’s just for these few matters, you can go back to B City now. Tell Xi Duo that everything is fine. As for the old man… he’s a dying old man; can’t you handle him? If you can’t, just give him a few more sedatives.”

“There is something.” Zhuo Xiao remained unapproachable, and Chen Xi’s lips twitched. “Mr. Xi intends to establish a branch of Zhuo’s in A City to develop new business, and he sent me to investigate and gain some experience. Additionally, he wants to consult your opinion; if you oppose it, then we won’t proceed.”

“Experience should start from the basics; that’s how I did it. Growth requires a process; how can one be in charge of a branch right away?” Zhuo Xiao’s tone was cool, and she raised her eyelids, “In that case, I will personally handle the branch matters, and you can go back.”

“Um… then is there nothing you need from me here? I can stay and help you.” Chen Xi was a bit anxious; returning like this would be too embarrassing.

Just as Zhuo Xiao was about to say something, a sudden sound came from the entrance, followed by familiar footsteps. Both of them turned to look in the direction of the newcomer, especially Zhuo Xiao, whose elegant demeanor completely vanished as she stood up directly.

“Wife, are you okay? Why haven’t you been replying to my messages?” Yan Chengming, having fought through many obstacles, finally arrived at the villa, panting as he rushed in. He tripped over the slippers at the door, almost sending the bird’s nest he was holding flying. “Do you know how worried I’ve been about you…”

In his line of sight stood a man dressed in an outrageously flamboyant manner, looking like a male escort from a nightclub. The pretty-faced man was on the verge of tears, putting on a delicate, pitiable act like a seductive fox spirit begging for mercy.

Meanwhile, his wife, Zhuo Xiao, appeared flustered and panicked—wearing the unmistakable expression of someone caught in the act of an affair.

Yan Chengming: “…”

His brain short-circuited.