Becoming the Runaway Little Wife of the Domineering CEO - Chapter 13

When it came time to pay, Fu Mang settled the bill, looking at the two prizes Yin Shuang had claimed with a complicated expression. The person handing over the prizes was the store manager; judging by the agonized look on his face, he looked ready to snatch them back at any moment.

Before they left, the manager begged them to keep the news of the Grand Prize win quiet, otherwise, their promotion for the next two days would be ruined.

Fu Mang remained silent, but Yin Shuang was quite cordial. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

The restaurant was close to the company, so they strolled back. Fu Mang walked with her hands in her pockets, while Yin Shuang stuffed the iPhone box into her coat pocket and proceeded to unwrap the “Lucky Gold Pig” right there on the street.

Inside was a small, exquisite, stylized gold pig. The pig was smiling and clutching a “blessing bag”—it looked incredibly festive. It was about the height of a thumb but felt heavy in her hand; based on weight alone, it was probably worth nearly twenty thousand yuan.

Yin Shuang held it up against the sunlight for a moment. She wasn’t a dragon; she had no obsession with shiny things. Although this could be exchanged for money, she had no desire to keep it.

As they walked, she suddenly reached out and pulled Fu Mang’s hand out of her pocket. Before Fu Mang could even react with surprise, a warm object was placed in her palm. Yin Shuang had been holding the pig, so it had warmed up from her touch.

Fu Mang frowned, trying to give it back. “What are you doing? You drew it, so you keep it.”

But Yin Shuang was insistent. “It’s for you.”

She moved closer to Fu Mang, their shoulders touching. Her slender hands wrapped around Fu Mang’s, placing the gold pig back into the center of her palm and curling Fu Mang’s fingers into a fist around it. Finally, she tucked the hand back into the pocket and gave it a friendly pat. She looked up, offering a smile even more radiant than the little gold pig’s. “There. All safe.”

Fu Mang looked momentarily stunned. Before she could speak, Yin Shuang pulled the iPhone box out like a kid showing off a treasure. She held the box with both hands and said tentatively, “I gave you the little pig, so how about you give me this instead?”

It took Fu Mang a moment to process. “This was yours to begin with.”

In Fu Mang’s mind, she had given the drawing rights to Yin Shuang, so whatever she drew belonged to her. But Yin Shuang had her own principles. Auspicious power couldn’t be used recklessly. This world had its own orderly flow, and she was an outsider. Because her luck was too powerful, she had won, but without her interference, these prizes would have gone to someone else.

Fortune was a fixed sum. If she, as a divine sword spirit, simply snatched the luck belonging to others, it would be unfair. So, even though she was broke, she never thought of using her talent to win things for herself—these items were drawn on Fu Mang’s behalf. Fu Mang was a person of this world, competing and surviving here; she didn’t have to worry about universal fairness.

Life is born equal, and yet born unequal. Some are born with everything, while others struggle just to grow up. One couldn’t really judge such things, but as long as a person belonged to this world, the Three Thousand Star Chart wouldn’t penalize them.

Yin Shuang insisted, “No, you have to say you’re giving it to me.”

After the drawing, Yin Shuang’s attitude had become much more casual. Where she had strictly observed the boss-subordinate relationship before, they were now drifting toward friendship. If anyone else had acted this familiar, Fu Mang would have been displeased, but looking into Jin Xiaoyu’s eyes, she always found herself becoming exceptionally tolerant.

After a moment of silence, she repeated, somewhat begrudgingly, “Fine. I’m giving this to you.”

Yin Shuang was instantly overjoyed. Qin Ke had bought her a phone before—the cheapest smartphone in the store for seven hundred yuan. In Qin Ke’s words, “as long as it works.” Since Qin Ke was the one paying, Yin Shuang hadn’t dared to complain, but now she had a brand new phone and could return the old one.

“Thank you, President Fu!”

Fu Mang had given many gifts in her life—New Year’s presents, birthday bouquets, company raffle prizes—any of which were worth more than this phone. But even if she collected the smiles and gratitude of every recipient she’d ever had, they wouldn’t match the sincerity and radiance of the expression on Jin Xiaoyu’s face right now.

A sudden surge of warmth flowed through Fu Mang’s heart. At first, she didn’t understand the feeling, but then it clicked.

So this is what it feels like to be happy because she is happy.

With her palm still closed around the tiny gold pig, Fu Mang felt a bit of a chill in the air. She tucked her chin into her scarf, hiding the small, involuntary curve of her lips.

******

That evening, Fu Mang placed the little gold pig on her nightstand. After sitting on the edge of the bed for a while, she stood up and opened her repaired safe.

Because of the previous break-in, the security features had been upgraded. It now included facial recognition. If anyone appeared before the safe and wasn’t Fu Mang, the alarm would trigger, and high-pressure water jets would spray from the ceiling.

The safe was waterproof; as for whether an intruder would be blasted into the floor, Fu Mang didn’t care.

She opened the safe, moved past a stack of documents, and pulled out the ancient sword.

While it was called an “ancient sword,” the blade looked as if it had been forged yesterday. If one drew it from the scabbard, the edge remained as white as snow and sharp enough to split a hair.

The scabbard was silver-blue, and the blade was a faintly glowing silver-white. The scabbard was covered in intricate patterns. Fu Mang had looked at them for twelve years and never understood if they were just decorative or held some deeper meaning. However, after twelve years, she had finally noticed something.

At the very bottom of the scabbard, an abstract pattern formed a three-dimensional, tilted snowflake.

Most people wouldn’t notice it. Even Yin Shuang’s previous master, the Empress of Heaven, had used the blade for years without realizing it was a snowflake. Yet Fu Mang had seen it.

If the master smith were watching from the heavens, she’d likely be moved to tears. Finally, someone understood her “beast-style” artistry.

******

Tracing the snowflake pattern once more, Fu Mang closed her eyes, feeling a sense of peace wash over her.

Her mother had told her to keep the sword safe on her deathbed, claiming it was extraordinary and would protect the prosperity of the He family enterprises. Fu Mang usually despised superstition and hadn’t taken the words to heart. However, she truly treasured this sword because she found that whenever she touched it, a strange sensation followed—as if the sword itself were comforting her.

Usually, Fu Mang would look at the sword for a few minutes before putting it away, but today she lingered. Staring at the scabbard, she suddenly smiled.

Call her crazy or delusional, but she felt that Jin Xiaoyu gave her a feeling very similar to this sword. The two were technically unrelated and their temperaments were worlds apart—the nameless sword was reserved, steady, and majestic, while Jin Xiaoyu was… Fu Mang thought for a long time before landing on a single virtue.

She’s good in a fight.

******

Yin Shuang had no idea that Fu Mang was currently comparing her to her own physical body—and using the body to look down on her spirit.

She was lying on her bed playing with her new phone, chatting with Qin Ke, when that familiar scent drifted into her nose. She sat up abruptly, her eyes sparkling. She scrambled off the bed and started banging on Fu Mang’s door.

She knocked on the connecting door. Fu Mang, hearing the commotion, was confused. She put the sword back into the safe before telling her to come in.

Yin Shuang walked in wearing Peppa Pig pajamas. She discreetly scanned the room. Seeing no sword, she wasn’t disappointed but instead walked up to Fu Mang, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

“President Fu, do you have any particularly valuable things that need my protection?”

Fu Mang was internally judging Jin Xiaoyu’s obsession with pink and “cute” things. Hearing the question, she looked up. “I do.”

“What is it?”

“My life.”

Yin Shuang: “…”

First attempt at fishing for information: Failure. Yin Shuang didn’t give up. She tried again. “Well, obviously I’m here to protect your life. I meant besides your life. Qin Ke told me before I started that a thief broke in over a month ago and almost got away with something. What was that thief after?”

Fu Mang narrowed her eyes. “You seem very interested in the answer.”

Yin Shuang stiffened, realizing Fu Mang was getting suspicious. She reacted quickly. “Well, yeah! Everyone loves gossip. I’m a bodyguard, but I’m also a law-abiding citizen who loves a good story.”

She put heavy emphasis on “law-abiding citizen.” Fu Mang felt a headache coming on. Thinking it over, she decided there was no harm in telling her—it would give the bodyguard something specific to watch over.

“See that painting?”

Yin Shuang tilted her head. “Yeah, I see it.”

“There’s a safe behind it. The thief was after what’s inside. Honestly, it’s nothing much—just some heirlooms from my mother.”

Yin Shuang let out a small “Oh.” So it really is an heirloom.

Fu Mang repeated what she had told the security guards about the new facial recognition system. Yin Shuang was stunned.

Is that really necessary? High-tech security? Good grief, at this rate, her only option really would be to smash the wall.

But smashing a wall was risky. It could hurt someone, and those four guards were on duty 24/7. Any sound of demolition would bring them running. She had no magic and no spiritual power; she had to rely on brute force and her natural advantages. Her only advantage was being “light as a swallow,” but that didn’t help with demolition—at most, it would just make her escape a bit easier.

Yin Shuang had entered the room full of excitement, but she left looking utterly dejected. Fu Mang was puzzled. Is she sleepy? It’s not even ten o’clock yet.

******

Another day for the Astral Guide’s projection arrived. Yin Shuang requested a few hours off from Fu Mang in advance. At 7:00 PM, she appeared at a restaurant. Qin Ke arrived ten minutes later; now that she had a job, she couldn’t just leave whenever she wanted.

When the time came, Zhu Peier’s projection appeared. Yin Shuang didn’t waste a second, dumping all the information she had gathered and looking at them expectantly. “Any good ideas?”

Zhu Peier and Qin Ke exchanged a look and fell silent.

Zhu Peier suggested, “Maybe… you could just wait for Fu Mang to die? She’s too smart, she’s hard to deal with. Maybe her descendants will be idiots, and you can just trick them into giving you the sword.”

Listen to that, Yin Shuang thought. Is that a suggestion from a civilized being?

Yin Shuang had completely forgotten that she had been thinking the exact same thing a few days ago.

“That would take decades! If I don’t finish the mission, I can’t go back. Am I supposed to stay here for sixty years? I don’t age! What if people think I’m a monster?!”

Zhu Peier thought to herself: Didn’t I give you the power to change your face? Just make yourself look older. However, she had a feeling that if she said that out loud, Yin Shuang might actually try to fight her.

Zhu Peier was out of ideas. Both she and Yin Shuang turned to the experienced Qin Ke.

“Then there’s only one way left,” Qin Ke said slowly. “Make her take the sword out and give it to you herself.”

Yin Shuang went quiet. “But that’s her family heirloom. She’s definitely going to leave it to her children. Why would she give it to me?”

“A family heirloom doesn’t have to be given to a descendant,” Qin Ke answered smoothly.

Yin Shuang didn’t understand, and neither did Zhu Peier. Peier frowned in thought for a moment before the realization hit her. Meeting Zhu Peier’s shocked gaze, Qin Ke let out a wild laugh. She felt this mission was turning out to be a great value—not only was she earning points, but she also got to watch the “cabbage” raised by the Empress of Heaven be “harvested” by another cabbage.

What a spectacular scene that was going to be.

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