Becoming the Runaway Little Wife of the Domineering CEO - Chapter 5

Fu Mang sat there, one hand clutching a glass of walnuts and the other holding a handful of “walnut corpses.” She stared at Yin Shuang, eyes wide, and only managed to choke out one sentence after a long silence: “How did you do that?”

Yin Shuang still didn’t quite understand what the fuss was about. She tilted her head slightly. “Huh? How did I do what? I mean… do you think these are enough? If not, I’ll crack a few more.”

Fu Mang was in no mood to eat walnuts now. She looked Yin Shuang up and down as if she were an alien before concluding with certainty: “You’ve studied martial arts!”

Yin Shuang blinked, finally realizing why the woman was so shocked. For one heartbeat, time seemed to stand still. Then, Yin Shuang’s entire aura shifted; she instantly became the image of a simple, honest country girl. She let out a sheepish chuckle.

“I haven’t studied martial arts. But back in the village, I worked the fields every day. Doing that long enough just makes you strong. To be honest, I was the strongest girl in Niu Family Village—lots of the men couldn’t even beat me.”

Fu Mang: “…Niu Family Village?”

“That’s right, that’s right!” Yin Shuang continued to nod with rustic sincerity, even rubbing her hands together timidly. “It’s my first time in the big city and I don’t know the rules. Please don’t take offense, President Fu.”

Fu Mang watched her silently. It was impossible to tell if she believed the story or not. After three seconds, she broke into a smile. “It’s fine. Village girls are honest. I prefer country folk to city people anyway. But I have one question: if you’re from ‘Niu Family Village,’ why is your surname Yu?”

A flicker of stiffness crossed Yin Shuang’s face, but it was gone in a flash. If Fu Mang hadn’t been staring her down, she never would have caught it.

“I took my mother’s surname. My parents didn’t get along and they’re divorced.”

Fu Mang let out a meaningful chuckle. “I see.”

Yin Shuang felt as though she were facing her former master again. Whenever her master found out she’d made a mistake, she would react just like this—saying nothing, just smiling until Yin Shuang’s scalp went numb.

Just as Yin Shuang thought her lie had been exposed, Fu Mang waved a hand, dismissing her back to work. Granted a royal pardon, Yin Shuang bolted like a rabbit, not forgetting to grab her bucket and rag as she fled.

Fu Mang tossed the crushed walnut bits from her right hand into her mouth. As the distinct, oily fragrance of the walnut hit her taste buds, she didn’t focus on the flavor. Her eyes were downcast, staring at nothing in particular. After a long while, she let out a scoffing laugh.

Niu Family Village.

She could have at least tried to make the lie believable. What kind of village could produce a girl who looked like a celestial being? Her skin was as pale and clear as mutton-fat jade; she was clearly a hothouse flower who had never seen a day of harsh sun. And “working the fields”? Fu Mang had seen her hands when she reached out—ten fingers, slender and white. Forget calluses, even her fingerprints looked soft and delicate. Could a farm girl have hands like those?

Yu Yinshuang was a mystery from head to toe. She was beautiful enough that plenty of men would throw money at her just for a smile, yet she chose to be a maid. Cracking walnuts like that required more than just brute strength; it required “hidden force.” Without martial arts training, no one could control their power with such precision. She clearly had skills, yet she chose to hide the truth.

But the most suspicious point for Fu Mang was the lack of an ID.

Fu Mang didn’t believe the “lost ID” excuse for a second. She felt certain Yin Shuang was intentionally withholding it because she had an ulterior motive. Most likely, she was a plant sent by one of her “dear siblings.”

At that thought, Fu Mang’s gaze turned cold. Those people were ambitious but brainless—and cowardly to boot. They wouldn’t dare hire an assassin for a blatant murder, so Yin Shuang probably wasn’t a hitwoman.

That left several other possibilities: she was here to steal data, or perhaps to spy.

Fu Mang tilted her head slightly, her fingers tapping a rhythmic beat on the sofa arm.

Fine. Let’s see what you’re really here for, and who exactly sent you.

******

Fu Mang didn’t make a move yet. Instead, she planted “false clues” in her study and bedroom. If the girl really was a thief, she would take the bait and snatch the fake documents.

Yin Shuang, oblivious to the trap, was simply waiting for Monday—the day Fu Mang would go to work—so she could steal her sword back.

The next day was Sunday. Sister Chen left the house early in the morning. Yin Shuang rose at 7:00 AM and worked until after 10:00 before she finally earned a break. Just as she was about to head to her room, the doorbell rang.

The other maids in the house knew Fu Mang hated seeing people loitering. Even though there was no official ban during the day, they finished their tasks and vanished immediately. Yin Shuang didn’t know this; she hadn’t even exchanged names with the others, let alone chatted.

Thus, only she and Fu Mang were in the living room.

Fu Mang was sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window, a tablet in front of her playing a video. They both heard the bell. Yin Shuang instinctively turned to look at Fu Mang.

Fu Mang raised an eyebrow. “You’re not waiting for me to go open it, are you?”

Yin Shuang: “…Of course not. Please, stay seated. I’ll get it.”

Yin Shuang trudged toward the door, feeling indignant. She knew her role was the maid and Fu Mang’s was the boss, but still! Could the woman not act like everything was so entitled? Even the service industry has human rights! Would it kill her to be a little polite?

He Yuxuan stood at the door. After ten seconds with no answer, she frowned. Just as she was about to press the bell again, the door opened. Yuxuan started to walk in out of habit, but stopped dead after a single step.

She let out a silent gasp of shock.

Holy crap. Is Fu Mang hiding a mistress in here?!

Yin Shuang looked at the guest curiously. Why had she stopped?

Blinking, Yin Shuang stepped aside and said politely, “Hello. May I ask who you are?”

Hearing her speak, Yuxuan finally noticed Yin Shuang’s clothing. A maid’s uniform.

She realized she had misunderstood, but her confusion only grew. Putting on a graceful smile, she introduced herself: “I’m He Yuxuan, a friend of Fu Mang’s. Are you new here?”

Unlike Fu Mang, He Yuxuan was socially savvy. She believed in the inherent equality of people and was kind to everyone. To be considerate of those in “lower-level” positions, she often avoided words that could be seen as demeaning, like “maid” or “servant.”

After only three sentences, Yin Shuang immediately took a liking to this guest. They were both wealthy, so why was the gap in their manners so vast?

Yuxuan nodded to her and walked toward Fu Mang. This time, without needing a prompt, Yin Shuang happily ran off to brew tea, even taking the time to ask Yuxuan for her preference.

Fu Mang looked up and watched her maid serving someone else with more joy than she ever showed her boss. A prickle of annoyance rose in her chest.

Consequently, her gaze toward Yuxuan wasn’t very welcoming. “What are you doing here?”

Yuxuan had known her for nearly twenty years and was long accustomed to her temperament. She sat down leisurely. “My mother is hosting a banquet next week. There will be a lot of guests, and she wants you to go.”

Without asking for a time or place, Fu Mang agreed immediately. “Got it. You came all the way here just for that?”

At that moment, Yin Shuang brought the tea. She bowed and placed the cups on the table before retreating to the side, continuing to eavesdrop on the conversation.

Yuxuan picked up her tea, blew on it, and was about to take a sip when something felt off.

Usually, when she visited, there was no one else around. She was used to speaking her mind without reservation. Having someone just… hovering there made her uncomfortable.

Fu Mang was still watching her, waiting for an answer.

Seeing Fu Mang’s reaction—or lack thereof—Yuxuan felt even more puzzled. Why hadn’t Fu Mang chased her away?

She looked at Fu Mang suspiciously. The latter was losing her patience. “Are you going to talk, or should I stop listening?”

“I’m talking, I’m talking! What’s the rush?” Yuxuan set her cup down. “I just heard about the change in equity. Your father gave his ten percent stake to Lu Shaomin’s two children. What do you think about that?”

Fu Mang kept her eyes down. “I don’t think anything. It’s his stuff; he can give it to whoever he wants.”

Yuxuan stared at her. “But that should have been yours.”

Seeing no response, Yuxuan sighed. “I’m not trying to make you start a bloody feud with them. I just… I want you to stop being so silent. Why don’t you take what belongs to you? They say the squeaky wheel gets the grease. If you stay like this, those people will be walking all over you in the future.”

Fu Mang sneered. “Let them try. I’d like to see who actually has the guts.”

******

They continued talking, and Yin Shuang listened until she understood the gist of the situation. Fu Mang’s father had many children, all of whom were half-siblings to Fu Mang. The company and assets Fu Mang currently held were left to her by her mother. Her father was even wealthier, but he had only given her a tiny fraction of his wealth, while the rest was being eyed greedily by the other children.

She’s a poor, lonely kid.

Yin Shuang realized this explained Fu Mang’s personality. Growing up in that environment, with her mother gone and her father unloving… if she wasn’t a bit aggressive and overbearing, she would have been eaten alive.

Yin Shuang felt a pang of guilt. She shouldn’t have disliked Fu Mang without knowing her story.

Later that evening, Yin Shuang lay on her bed, her cheek pressed against the pillow. A lock of hair fell over her face, and she twirled it around her finger, thinking.

The sword was definitely with Fu Mang, but she didn’t know how she got it. If her father gave it to her, that was one thing. But if it was an heirloom from her mother…

Wouldn’t she be stealing the girl’s most precious memory?

Beyond the emotional value, Yin Shuang knew something others didn’t. Fu Mang was only twenty-four. To run a major corporation at that age… if not fifty percent, then at least thirty percent of her success was thanks to the Silver Frost Sword. As an auspicious blade, it brought immense luck and fortune wherever it went. If Yin Shuang took the sword away while Fu Mang was surrounded by “wolves and tigers,” her life might fall apart.

Yin Shuang was torn.

She had lived perfectly fine for two thousand years without her sword body. But if Fu Mang lost it, she would be left to face a cold and cruel world alone.

Maybe… I should go home and wait for a few decades?

Once Fu Mang passed away, she could come back and take the sword. A few decades was but a blink of an eye for a sword spirit.

Yin Shuang’s heart had softened. Outside, the sun was setting. After staying in her room for a while, she walked out to see if He Yuxuan had left.

The guest was indeed gone. The house was empty again, save for Fu Mang, who had fallen asleep on the sofa.

Fu Mang was beautiful—not as beautiful as Yin Shuang, but a hundred-percent head-turner in the mortal world. She had a sharp, heart-shaped face, now partially hidden by her long hair and the shadows, making her look even thinner and more fragile.

Yin Shuang was a sword spirit; she had no family by blood, but she had her master, who treated her like a daughter. After her master’s troubles, her master’s partner—whom she called “Mother”—had raised her. They were closer than biological family.

Even a sword spirit had family, yet Fu Mang had no one to love her.

Yin Shuang’s heart melted further. She really didn’t want to steal the sword anymore. Since they had met, she hoped her physical form could help this poor girl through her difficult life.

She picked up a blanket and carefully covered Fu Mang. As she pulled it up to the girl’s shoulders, she noticed Fu Mang looked unwell, her brow furrowing in a nightmare.

Yin Shuang mimicked the way people used to soothe her to sleep, gently patting Fu Mang’s shoulder. “There, there… let the nightmares fly away…”

Yin Shuang’s expression was incredibly soft. But the moment she touched her, Fu Mang’s eyes snapped open. She heard the babying words and felt the gentle, comforting pats. She looked at Yin Shuang, her gaze darkening.

“You…”

Yin Shuang pulled her hand back, caught red-handed and flustered.

Fu Mang stared at her for a long time before finally finishing her sentence.

“Why are you out here? Did no one tell you that you aren’t allowed out after 6:00 PM? Consider this a warning. If it happens again, I’m docking two hundred from your pay.”

Yin Shuang: “…”

Dammit. I’m stealing that sword tomorrow! I HAVE TO!

Support Becoming the Runaway Little Wife of the Domineering CEO