Becoming the Runaway Little Wife of the Domineering CEO - Chapter 21

In the end, Shao Yang didn’t have to eat the dog waste. Naturally, he also failed to step foot inside the bar.

It wasn’t that Fu Mang had forbidden him, but rather that once he watched his own “death flag” crumble so spectacularly, all the fight left him. He no longer had the heart to chase women or play games.

Fu Mang neither knew nor cared where those two went afterward. She drove home and engaged the handbrake. Yin Shuang unbuckled her seatbelt with practiced ease, but just as she was about to hop out, Fu Mang spoke.

“What… did you think of the bar?”

Yin Shuang thought it over seriously before giving her honest assessment. “It was alright. A bit noisy, but it definitely felt lively.”

Fu Mang stared into her eyes and threw out a second question. “What if I wanted to go back tomorrow?”

Yin Shuang found the question entirely unprompted. Why did Fu Mang need to report her itinerary to a lowly bodyguard?

She blinked and replied, “Then we go. Wherever you go, I’m following.”

Hearing this, Fu Mang looked down. Two seconds later, she snapped her eyes back up to deliver the third question: “Why?”

Fu Mang is being truly bizarre today, Yin Shuang thought. She gave her a look of mild confusion and answered matter-of-factly, “Because you’re my boss. It’s my job to stay by your side and protect you.”

Fu Mang’s expression didn’t shift, but Yin Shuang could feel it—the woman was even unhappier than before.

Yin Shuang: “…” Did I say something wrong again?

The rest of the evening was a parade of silences: a silent exit from the car, a silent walk into the house, and a silent dinner. By the time night fell, Fu Mang hadn’t uttered another word. Though she was usually a quiet person, this was different. Before bed, Yin Shuang chewed on the problem until it finally clicked. Is she… giving me the cold shoulder?

Yin Shuang racked her brain, but she couldn’t recall how she might have offended her. Was it still about that hair salon fiasco?

Separated by only a door, Yin Shuang sat in her room wallowing in guilt over her perceived mistakes. On the other side, Fu Mang sat cross-legged on her bed, cocooned in her duvet like a silk-worm. In her lap sat the plush yellow chick from the amusement park.

Fu Mang wasn’t exactly giving the cold shoulder; she was just sulking. Logically, if Jin Xiaoyu had feelings for her, shouldn’t she be jealous? Shouldn’t she be upset that Fu Mang was looking at other men? Yet, the girl had shown no reaction at all. She hadn’t even tried to stop her from going back to the bar.

Fu Mang felt stifled. She gave the chick’s wing a sharp tug and narrowed her eyes.

Maybe Xiaoyu is just hiding it too well?

She fell into deep thought. She didn’t notice that her goal was slowly shifting from “making Xiaoyu see she was straight” to “desperately needing to see Xiaoyu get jealous.” Just then, the familiar knocking began.

“I’m going to sleep now.”

Fu Mang’s train of thought hit a pause button. She held her breath, listening intently to catch every syllable.

A two-second pause, and then: “Don’t be mad at me. If I’ve done something wrong, just tell me. I’ll change. I’ll listen to whatever you say.”

Fu Mang looked up at the closed door.

Xiaoyu’s voice softened. “Goodnight. Have a wonderful dream.”

Long after the voice behind the door had faded, Fu Mang remained staring at the wood. Eventually, she looked down at her own palm.

For a split second, she had been seized by the urge to rip the door open and make Jin Xiaoyu say “Goodnight” to her face. Words were magical things, yet they could also be hollow. She suddenly wanted to see what was in Xiaoyu’s eyes when she said those words.

Would they be shining with light, or clouded with soft, lingering affection?

Her ears began to burn at the thought. She shook her head violently to clear out the “weird” ideas and lay down, still clutching the soft yellow chick.

The next day was a standard workday. While Yin Shuang was hunched over her desk reading her e-book, Shao Yang suddenly leaned in. “Xiaoyu, can I ask you something?”

Yin Shuang looked up, blinking. “What’s up?”

Shao Yang squatted next to her chair. He meant it to be friendly, but the posture just looked sketchy.

“When you were at the bar with President Fu yesterday,” Shao Yang whispered conspiratorially, “what exactly did she do?”

“Nothing much. She ordered a drink, sat for a bit, and then we left.”

Shao Yang looked confused. “Just sat there? She didn’t do anything else?”

“Well, she wanted to,” Yin Shuang answered honestly. “She said she wanted to ‘find some fun,’ but we stayed for a while and she couldn’t find any, so we left.”

Shao Yang’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Find some fun?!”

He hadn’t controlled his volume. Every head in the secretarial office turned toward them. Shao Yang gave a nervous laugh and waved them off. “Nothing, nothing! Carry on!”

Once they looked away, Yin Shuang tilted her head. “Brother Shao, what’s wrong?”

Shao Yang stood up, looking dazed. “Nothing. I… I have to get back to work. You keep busy.”

Yin Shuang watched him leave, puzzled, then turned back to her book.

She had no idea what kind of “butterfly effect” her words had just triggered. When Shao Yang went home for the weekend, he told his grandfather. His grandfather, shocked, passed the news to Fu Mang’s father. Fu Quanru dismissed it as a rumor at first, but once he heard it came from a first-hand witness like Shao Yang, he fell into a pensive silence.

And so, a week later, Fu Mang received another call from Fu Quanru.

She sat alone in her vast office, twirling a pen while she listened. When she heard the reason for the call, she scowled. “A blind date?”

“Since you’ve finally decided to settle your personal matters,” Fu Quanru’s voice crackled through the line, “instead of picking up some random stranger at a bar, let me introduce someone to you. At least the men I pick come from good families and reputable backgrounds.”

Fu Mang let out a cynical laugh. “Reputable? You mean I should marry someone so I can spend my life dealing with his mistresses and illegitimate children, just like you?”

Silence hung on the line for several seconds. When Fu Quanru spoke again, his voice was ice. “Everyone has their own way of living, Fu Mang. There is no need for this constant sarcasm. Your words don’t make me feel guilty. But you—living with such bitterness—doesn’t it get exhausting?”

It was a harsh truth, but a truth nonetheless.

Fu Mang squeezed her phone but didn’t answer. Her father continued, “You have a long life ahead of you. Instead of wasting time being angry with me, think about the decades to come. I’m only a small part of your life. The only one who will truly walk with you to the end is your partner.”

Partner…

Fu Mang shifted her gaze to the monitor. On the security feed, Jin Xiaoyu was still hunched over her desk. She had been in that position for a long time; Fu Mang wondered if her neck was getting sore.

Fu Quanru, thinking he was being profound and sentimental, waited for a response. When none came, his patience evaporated and he barked the question again. This time, Fu Mang answered.

“Time and place.”

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