Beautiful Wife: The Cold Boss is My Husband - Chapter 9

When Yan Chengming woke up the next day, Zhuo Xiao was already gone. He patted the empty space beside him and jolted upright. “Where’s my wife? Did she run away?”

Just as he was getting worked up, he spotted a folded note on the nightstand. With a crestfallen expression, he opened it and read: “I went to check on the studio. There’s breakfast in the kitchen. Don’t forget to eat.”

Yan Chengming’s mood instantly settled. Thank goodness, his wife hadn’t run off.

Zhuo Xiao had majored in painting during university and specialized in oil painting for his graduate studies. He met Yan Chengming during his second year of graduate school, which allowed him to stop working part-time to support his studies. After graduation, he became an independent artist. Yan Chengming funded the establishment of a studio for him, while Zhuo Xiao handled everything else himself.

After breakfast, Yan Chengming received a call from Gu Yu. Glancing around the empty house, he said into the phone, “Come to my place. It’s not convenient for me to go out.”

He had no idea when Zhuo Xiao would return, and yesterday’s conflict was still unresolved. Yan Chengming couldn’t just leave without a word. It would make him seem indifferent to Zhuo Xiao.

Half an hour later, Gu Yu arrived, bringing a chill from outside. He said to Yan Chengming, “Following your plan, the product samples are already in production. The focus now is to find business partners to collaborate with. That would make things more secure.”

Yan Chengming pondered for a moment, then opened his phone’s contact list, scrolling through a row of drinking buddies and frivolous friends. He handed the phone to Gu Yu and said, “Contact these people. Use my tone and tell them there’s a business deal that needs their support. If anyone refuses or doesn’t reply, just delete them from my contacts.”

Gu Yu took the phone, surprised by his words. “Even if they’re not the most reliable friends, you’ve still shared good times with them. Isn’t this a bit harsh?”

Yan Chengming snorted. “I know the difference between real friends and fake ones. Lately, I’ve been busy with work and haven’t hung out with them much. Hardly any of them have reached out to me. I value sincerity, not pretense. No matter how nice they act on the surface, if it’s all just a show, it’s not what I want. Besides, I’m entering a new phase in my life now. It’s time to refresh my circle of friends. You get that, right?”

Gu Yu laughed. “Well, thanks for not cutting me out during your friend-list update.”

“You’re different from them,” Yan Chengming shook his head.

Gu Yu finished sending the messages in about an hour. Most went unanswered, as if sinking into the sea. Those who replied did so with vague excuses, showing little interest. Only a handful—like Wang Lang and that slick-haired guy named Gan Tianyang responded directly and enthusiastically, asking Yan Chengming for the project proposal and the company’s dedicated account.

As Gu Yu was wrapping up, Yan Chengming suddenly asked, “Do you know what’s involved in organizing an art exhibition?”

Gu Yu paused. “Why do you ask?”

Yan Chengming scratched his head. “I think I made my wife angry. I’m considering setting up an art exhibition for him. By the way, I think his paintings are quite good. Want to see?”

Having finished his work, Gu Yu was in the mood to relax. He put away his laptop and phone. “Sure, let’s take a look.”

Five minutes later, he stood in the basement of Yan Chengming’s villa, where the paintings were stored, and fell silent.

The temperature in the basement was ideal for preserving paintings, hovering around 20 degrees Celsius. The dim lighting avoided direct ultraviolet exposure. Various types of painting storage racks were arranged throughout: freestanding ones, grid-style ones… The paintings were meticulously framed, indicating the owner’s deep care for these works.

However, starkly contrasting with the gentle preservation methods were the wildly exaggerated brushstrokes and the dominant black-and-red color palette. The content of the paintings was absurd, the style dark and oppressive, crammed into the sealed underground space, making it hard to breathe.

Especially striking was a massive oil painting hanging prominently on the central wall. Its distorted contours and murky surroundings seemed to conceal countless shadowy figures, with only a single bright spot at the center—a woman lying in a bathtub. She wore a vivid red dress, her skin deathly pale, blood gushing from her wrists onto the floor. Behind her loomed a round, hazy shape resembling both the sun and an elderly person’s pupil, staring unblinkingly outward from every angle.

Gu Yu: “…”

He felt the hairs on his body stand on end. Yet, Yan Chengming, utterly oblivious, chuckled foolishly beside him, “See? My wife’s paintings are amazing, right? Don’t they strike right at the soul?”

Gu Yu hesitated, struggling for words, before finally blurting out, “Are you sure you want to use these paintings for an exhibition?”

His words were neutral, but his tone was thick with skepticism. Yan Chengming immediately picked up on it and retorted discontentedly, “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t they work? They’re brilliantly done! This is magical realism, absurdism! You just don’t know how to appreciate art!”

“Forget it, forget it. Stop looking and come out.” Feeling that Gu Yu’s presence alone was a desecration of art, Yan Chengming pulled him out of the basement.

Before leaving, Gu Yu reminded Yan Chengming, “Make sure you carefully study the Zhuo Corporation’s documents. When I worked abroad, a senior colleague of mine had connections with their CEO. I’m currently trying to get the CEO’s private contact info and will share it with you later. If you can win him over and secure Zhuo Corporation’s investment, it’ll set a trend for other companies. Your chances of successful collaborations will skyrocket to 90%.”

“Alright, alright, I get it.” Yan Chengming waved him off, annoyed by the nagging. Once Gu Yu was gone, he reopened the Zhuo Corporation file.

In the section for the company’s head, the name listed was Xi Duo.

Muttering to himself, “Why does the head of Zhuo Corporation have the surname Xi?” Yan Chengming entered Xi Duo’s name into the search bar.

The search results showed a man around 35 years old, dressed in a crisp white shirt and a navy-blue suit, exuding a strong business aura. Yet, his face appeared refined and scholarly, making him quite likable.

It was said that this Xi Duo was the acting CEO of Zhuo Corporation, while the real CEO wielded power behind the scenes for undisclosed reasons.

A power grab? A puppet CEO? A regent?

In an instant, Yan Chengming’s mind flooded with plots from political intrigue dramas. The chaotic situation at Zhuo Corporation made him wary of stepping on a landmine. As he pondered, his phone rang.

A familiar voice came from the other end: “Mr. Yan, this is Dr. Qin. I just returned from abroad last night and apologize for delaying your previous appointment. Do you have time to come in for a check-up soon?”

If he hadn’t brought it up, Yan Chengming would have almost forgotten about the matter. He glanced at the time and figured the examination wouldn’t take long, so he said, “We can go now.”

…

After undergoing a series of tests, including an MRI, Dr. Qin pointed at the preliminary images on the computer and said to Yan Chengming, “Mr. Yan, as you can see, there are indeed some old injuries in the posterior temporal lobe and other areas of your brain, remnants of the car accident. However, these injuries are quite old and wouldn’t cause hallucinations…”

Dr. Qin paused at this point.

Yan Chengming frowned. “Then what’s causing my hallucinations? I keep having these irrational memories, like dreaming that my wife slammed my head in the car door. But when I asked her, she said I just fell. It wasn’t her doing at all.”

Dr. Qin hesitated for a moment, not wanting to directly suggest that Yan Chengming’s wife might be lying. After a brief pause, he said, “It could be due to other factors, such as psychological or mental issues. Or have you been taking any medications containing unusual substances recently?”

Yan Chengming thought for a moment and shook his head. “No.”

Dr. Qin pondered for a while, then tapped on the keyboard. “In that case, Mr. Yan, I’d like to refer you to a psychiatrist I met during an exchange program abroad. She’s highly professional, with advanced certifications and extensive clinical experience. I’ll let her know, so you can go see her right away without an appointment.”

“Alright, thanks.” Yan Chengming’s phone chimed. He looked down and saw the contact Dr. Qin had recommended—likely a work number. The profile picture showed a capable-looking woman, and the name was Dr. Su Man.

Since he was already out, he figured he might as well get it over with. After a moment’s hesitation, Yan Chengming made up his mind.

…

“Mr. Zhuo, how have you been lately? Any troubles on your mind?” Su Man smiled as she handed a cup of hot tea to Zhuo Xiao, who was seated on the sofa, while subtly observing his expression.

Unfortunately, Zhuo Xiao’s refined face remained as impassive as ever, showing no discernible emotion or attitude. His tone of voice and gaze were equally detached.

From City B to City A, Zhuo Xiao and Su Man had maintained their patient-psychiatrist relationship for nearly three years. Su Man herself found it remarkable, given that the newly appointed CEO of the Zhuo Corporation was notoriously unyielding and aloof.

Even after three years of treatment, during which Su Man had learned much about Zhuo Xiao’s hidden past, she couldn’t claim to fully understand him. She always felt that he hadn’t completely let his guard down, as if he were still holding something back.

When they first met, Zhuo Xiao was even thinner than he was now, with sharp facial features and a stern demeanor. His icy presence in her office seemed to drop the temperature by 10 degrees Celsius.

Even Su Man, who had encountered many unconventional patients, was momentarily taken aback by his aura. A few seconds later, her stunned expression faded, replaced by a practiced professional smile as she asked her standard opening question: “Mr. Zhuo, what would you like to consult about today?”

At the time, Su Man had assumed Zhuo Xiao would unload his work-related stress or share the hardships he’d endured before triumphing in his family’s cutthroat competitive environment. But to her surprise, he did neither.

The long-haired man sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed remained silent for a while, as if carefully choosing his words. After a long pause, his downturned lips parted, and his gaze lifted calmly to rest on Su Man’s face. He asked, “If, whether in dreams or during moments of distraction when awake, I always find myself thinking of someone’s face… what exactly is the problem?”

…

The memory faded, and Su Man now sat opposite Zhuo Xiao. The man, whose features and demeanor had softened considerably over time, slowly began to speak under her watchful eyes. “Lately, I’ve been having nightmares.”

Su Man instinctively furrowed her brow. With the help of medication and therapy, Zhuo Xiao hadn’t experienced such episodes in a long time. Suppressing her confusion, she followed her usual approach and asked, “What did you dream about? Was it something from your school days?”

Images flashed through Zhuo Xiao’s mind: desks smeared with marker ink, chairs drenched in paint, deliberately hidden homework, the unrestrained laughter of classmates who mocked him and the stares and whispers that followed him everywhere, as if he were some kind of “monster.”

He realized then that the faces of those he had once resented had grown hazy in his memory. Letting out a soft chuckle, he shook his head. “No.”

Seeing that his emotions remained relatively stable, Su Man pressed further. “Then what was it?”

At this, Zhuo Xiao’s expression shifted. It was difficult to explain how fear and obsession could coexist on one person’s face. After a few seconds, he smiled again. “I dreamed of him.”

Hearing him mention “him,” Su Man’s expression grew complicated. She abandoned the topic of nightmares and shifted to another. “…Have you told him?”

Zhuo Xiao fell silent.

It took him a long, long time to finally reply, “Soon.”

Su Man took a deep breath and looked at the lowered gaze of the man across from her. “Mr. Zhuo, I hope you can be honest with me. Otherwise, it will greatly hinder your treatment.”

Zhuo Xiao showed no reaction. After a moment, he lifted his head, and a faint smile appeared on his usually expressionless face. His tone began to change as well, softening in a way reminiscent of how he often spoke to Yan Chengming. “Dr. Su, I am telling the truth.”

Su Man: “…”

She exhaled deeply once more, her brows unconsciously knitting together. Without another word, she simply added a few more notes to the prescription.

…

Driving to the psychiatric medical institution recommended by Dr. Qin, Yan Chengming hummed a tune as he prepared to get out of the car. But as his eyes caught a familiar figure outside the window, his movements froze.