Dr. Chi’s Mission: Seduce Officer Su - Chapter 36

“How much trouble are you going to cause before you’re satisfied?” Chi Qinian slammed the cup in his hand onto the floor.

The scattered shards of debris mirrored the shattered state of Chi Jue’s heart.

He stood up furiously, pointing at Chi Jue’s nose and snarling, “Your Uncle An passed away early, and this engagement was his dying wish. Jiaqin’s mother has been in declining health over the years, waiting for her to return to the country so the two of you could hold the engagement ceremony and build a life together. Now, out of nowhere, you say things have changed. You drop a mess on everyone with just a claim that you’ve found someone you like, what on earth are you thinking?”

Chi Jue sneered, accustomed to her father always pinning all the blame on her, as if she were truly being unreasonable.

But her father could tolerate many people, just not her, his perpetually overlooked second daughter.

As a child, she couldn’t understand what she had done wrong. During the years she most needed her parents’ presence, she was confined to the manor, day after day, subjected to her grandmother’s repetitive lectures.

She remembered that faded time vividly. She had once asked her grandmother, “Why don’t Mom and Dad want me?”

“Blame it on not being a son,” her grandmother had replied, a cruelty too heavy for a child to bear.

For the young Chi Jue, this became an incurable wound.

For a long time afterward, she felt that her very existence was a mistake, that not being born a boy was an unforgivable sin.

The dining room was dead silent, save for Chi Qinian’s heavy breathing. His enraged expression seemed nothing but a joke in Chi Jue’s eyes.

“We haven’t been in a relationship for a long time. Why use that to trap me? Just because of someone’s dying wish, I’m supposed to sacrifice my entire life? In the end, no one ever considered my happiness. And as for Auntie’s health, she should see a doctor more often. An engagement won’t cure her illness.”

Chi Jue crossed her arms, her tone growing reckless, as if she had laid all her cards on the table.

“You!” Chi Qinian, like a lion whose territory had been threatened, shoved aside Qin Wanyi’s attempts to stop him and rushed toward his daughter. “Are you deliberately trying to defy me?”

Smack!

The sound of the slap echoed through the dining room, sharp and clear like shattered porcelain.

“Qinian!” Qin Wanyi gasped in shock at the sudden violence, quickly grabbing her husband’s arm. “What are you doing?”

“Dad!” Chi Chengxiu immediately stepped in front of his sister, shielding her from any further harm.

Chi Qinian’s slap was so forceful that Chi Jue’s vision blurred. The fair, smooth skin of her cheek quickly swelled with the distinct red imprint of five fingers.

When she regained her senses, she tasted the metallic tang of blood in her mouth. Lifting a hand to her lips, she dabbed at the corner and found a faint smear of crimson on her fingertips.

As she gently rubbed away the unwelcome red, she suddenly remembered the night Chi Jin had announced she was in a relationship at the dinner table. The atmosphere then had been nothing like the tension here.

Her father had simply nodded softly, not even bothering to ask what kind of person his youngest daughter had fallen for. He had turned a blind eye and tacitly approved of the relationship, only to later use it as a reason to criticize Chi Jue for repeatedly postponing her own engagement.

Chi Jue felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness. Her eternally aloof father had no idea how absurd his blatant favoritism truly was.

“What are you doing? You made A-Jue bleed!” Qin Wanyi stared at the blood trickling from Chi Jue’s lips, shoving Chi Qinian aside in fury before turning to summon a servant for the medical kit.

“Let me see.” Just as she approached, Chi Jue took a cold step backward, silently rejecting her concern.

Chi Jue laughed, a sharp, painful laugh that tugged at her bruised cheek and split lip. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she doubled over, bracing herself against a nearby table.

“What are you laughing at? How dare you laugh!” Chi Qinian, infuriated by her defiance, rolled up his sleeves, ready to enforce discipline.

Chi Chengxiu hurriedly blocked him. “Dad, calm down. Don’t let anger harm your health.”

Qin Wanyi rushed to coax her daughter, “A-Jue, just apologize. Don’t upset your father, you know his health can’t handle this.”

Chi Jue reined in her hysterical laughter. As her lips curled downward, fine lines of sorrow etched across her nose bridge, a quiet ache born of a heart grown cold and numb. She lowered her head, silent for a long moment. Overwhelming disappointment surged within, not as a violent wave but as a churning turmoil that left her limbs numb and unfeeling.

“The number of days I’ve lived properly with you all could be counted on one hand. When have I ever been troublesome? When have I ever caused you worry?” Her neck stiffened, her brow furrowed, and her nose flushed red. A choked, mocking sob escaped her, betraying her helplessness.

Her words were meant for her parents, yet they also seemed like a plea to herself, to abandon any lingering hope for this family.

Chi Qinian and Qin Wanyi stood frozen, as if struck at their core, with only silence as their reply.

When Chi Jue spoke again, her voice was eerily calm, masking the faint tremor of tears. She began recounting the hidden hardships she had endured:

“Before high school, you left me with Grandma. How many calls did you make in a year? How many times did we meet? You’d just buy me gifts during holidays and consider your duty done.

During my three years of high school, I was the only one of your children who lived in the school dormitory. The Chi residence is so vast, even the servants have their own private suites, yet I never had a room of my own to call home.

When you cut off my living and tuition expenses to assert your authority as a father, did you think I would bow my head and admit fault?

But I refused to back down. All those years, I survived on scholarships and part-time jobs at school.

You wouldn’t know, would you? During my most difficult times, I washed greasy metal trays in the cafeteria all winter. Someone as privileged as you could never imagine how it feels to have chapped, frostbitten hands soaked in filthy, oily water.

Medical school was grueling. While everyone else fought for spots in the library, I was in the back kitchen, nibbling on nearly expired free buns, squeezing in every spare moment to study.

My advisor thought I came from a poor family. When he helped me apply for financial aid and conducted a background check, everyone was shocked. They even wondered if I was an adopted child.

I endured every bit of that hardship on my own.

You blame me for choosing medical school without considering the family’s future, but do you even know why I chose medicine? Do you know what I’m truly good at?”

Chi Jue could no longer hold back the crushing weight of sorrow. Stubborn tears traced silent paths down her cheeks, even her weeping was restrained and quiet.

When she spoke again, her voice was thick with anger: “You know nothing about me. All you know is that the eldest son must be groomed by your own hands, the youngest daughter must be kept at home and spoiled, while the middle child, the second daughter, is either scolded when there’s trouble or treated as invisible when there’s none.

My professional achievements are more than enough to sever ties with you, so I’ve never regretted my choices. My success has nothing to do with any of you, and that’s precisely why I dare to stand against you!

That slap was well-deserved. It finally shattered our relationship, which had long existed in name only.”

Chi Jue finally poured out all the bitterness she had suppressed in her heart. The heavy burden she had carried for so many years crumbled to pieces in that moment.

She felt an immense sense of relief, and even her steps as she walked away became unusually light.

When she reached the door, she turned to look at her parents, whose faces were filled with shame. Her gaze was so unfamiliar, as if she had never been a child of this family. “Just consider your second daughter dead. I wish the four of you a happy and perfect life.”

“Come back here! Come back!” Chi Qinian’s neck tensed, veins bulging as he roared at his son, “Go and drag her back here!”

“Dad, stop making things difficult for A-Jue. Calm down first.” Chi Chengxiu had never imagined his sister had endured so much suffering. With no time to spare, he could only try to soothe his father’s temper. “Let’s give it some time, and I’ll go talk to her later. Don’t rush things now.”

Qin Wanyi murmured with red-rimmed eyes, “How could it come to this… How could it come to this…”

She had always thought the child was naturally quiet, unlike other children who would wail loudly when they got into trouble.

But the child who doesn’t cry gets no candy.

In a panic, she shoved her husband, “Chi Qinian, what have you done? What have we done?”

…

Su Qiao ordered a four-inch butterfly-shaped cake from the bakery, topped with a caramel layer in the same shape.

The sugar layer was thick and looked overwhelmingly sweet.

Before placing the order, the server had specifically explained its meaning to her.

“This cake is called ‘Breaking the Ice.’ We include a small hammer to crack the sugar layer. It’s especially perfect for making up with a lover.”

Su Qiao thought Chi Jue would like it. They could shatter all their unhappiness together, letting happiness break free like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. What a wonderful meaning.

“Let’s go with this one, then. It seems quite fitting.”

Carrying the box as she left the bakery, she pulled out her phone and realized she hadn’t checked the message Chi Jue had sent.

She decided to call instead, but after several attempts with no response, she found herself standing alone on the street, utterly bewildered.

When she left home, she had deliberately worn an oversized long down jacket, thinking that if Dr. Chi felt cold, she could wrap her in her arms to keep her warm.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when her phone’s ringtone cut through the winter chill.

Su Qiao answered the call, her voice cheerful: “Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.”

“Seaside Park.” Chi Jue tersely provided her location.

Her voice sounded weak and listless. Sensing something was wrong, Su Qiao frowned and urged, “I’m on my way. Stay put, don’t move.”

“Su Qiao, I miss you.” Chi Jue sniffled, her voice trembling with tears, unsettling Su Qiao’s heart.

“I’ll take you home.” Su Qiao dashed to the roadside and hailed a taxi. “Don’t hang up. I’ll keep you company and chat with you.”

“I don’t have a home anymore.” Chi Jue’s voice was hoarse, and she let out a despondent curse. “Screw that damn home.”

This was the first time Su Qiao had heard the usually steady Dr. Chi lose her composure with such harsh words. Her heart ached for her, but she couldn’t resist trying to lighten the mood, joking, “Hey, whose mom’s house are you going to? If you’re going anywhere, it should be my home.”

She knew Chi Jue was hurting.

“You’re so annoying! I was about to cry, and you made me hold it back.”

The roar of the tide carried on the sea breeze, and the endless ocean was black, even the ceaseless waves were dark, mirroring the emptiness in Chi Jue’s heart.

When Su Qiao ran onto the beach with her phone, she saw her from a distance, sitting alone with her knees drawn up, lost in thought.

The little bear sighed with helpless sorrow, realizing that when someone you love is hurt, that pain seeps into your own heart as well.

It was agonizing, like being struck in a vulnerable spot, an unresolved, dull ache that throbbed again and again.

Quietly, she walked up behind Chi Jue, opened her coat, and wrapped the slender figure tightly inside her down jacket.

“The heavens won’t treat someone as good as you unfairly. If others don’t want you, it’s their loss. I have to snatch you up quickly, before you disappear in the blink of an eye.”

Su Qiao wouldn’t press Chi Jue about what had happened when she was at her lowest, that would only be cruel, inflicting a second wound. Instead, she unconditionally shared her warmth, driving away the chill that clung to Chi Jue.

“Wearing so little, what if you catch a cold?” She spread her legs slightly, allowing Dr. Chi to lean into her embrace, and tightened the down jacket around them. “Is this warmer?”

Chi Jue seemed like a frozen robot, her responses always a beat slow. “If I catch a cold, then the little bear will have to take care of me.”

“No problem, I can make meals for the sick.” Hearing her crack a joke, Su Qiao’s anxious heart finally settled. “Today’s troubles end here. From now on, happiness takes the stage, ta-da!”

As she spoke, she lifted a box beside her and waved it in front of Chi Jue. “Let’s go home, I mean our warm home, and have some cake, the proper way.”

Chi Jue’s heart was in turmoil, unable to match Su Qiao’s exuberance, yet she couldn’t help but laugh at her silly tone. She rubbed her red, chilled nose in frustration. “Can you be serious for once? I’m supposed to be sad…”

“I can’t just be sad with you, can I? My job is to help chase that sadness away.” Su Qiao tilted her head and kissed Chi Jue’s ear, feeling how cold it was, then quickly cupped her hands over it. “Feels nice, right?”

Chi Jue absorbed the steady warmth, closing her eyes wearily and leaning her head to the side, surrendering all her strength to the “little bear.”

It felt comforting, like playing a trust-fall game, knowing someone would catch you firmly when you leaned back.

Emotion caught in her throat. To her, love felt so extravagant, some were unwilling to give it, while others bared their hearts to show her.

Su Qiao gently rested her chin on the back of her hand, her gaze fixed on the boundless sea, and whispered, “Do you hear that?”

Chi Jue answered without hesitation, “The wind.”

“Wrong.” Su Qiao shook her head. “Listen more carefully.”

“Only the wind.”

“It’s the sea telling you…” Su Qiao buried her face in the neck that smelled of cedar, her voice muffled, whether from shyness or overwhelming emotion, as she confessed, “I like you.”

Chi Jue burst out laughing. This confession wasn’t bad, but she deliberately made things difficult: “So is it the ocean that likes me, or you?”

“We both like you.” Su Qiao’s face flushed hot, but then she felt this answer wasn’t quite right and corrected herself: “Well… I like you.”

Chi Jue pouted and continued baiting: “What kind of liking?”

“The kind of liking that pins you in an elevator… and kisses you madly.” Su Qiao laid her cards on the table, no longer pretending, that flirtatious adult vibe returning.

“So after all this, it’s the kind of liking that wants my body, huh~ Then I need to protect myself, you’re quite dangerous~” Chi Jue swiftly slipped out of Little Bear Su’s embrace and ran off into the distance.

“Hey, don’t run!” With her embrace now empty, Su Qiao could only chase after her with small, quick steps while holding the cake box.

“You’ve already confessed, wouldn’t it be unreasonable not to give you a chance to chase me?” Chi Jue stood not far away, hands cupped around her mouth. “If you don’t chase me soon, I won’t give you the chance~”

Su Qiao slapped her forehead. Was this what “chasing” a girl meant?

Chi Jue ran a few steps away, then turned back to see that Little Bear still hadn’t caught up. She complained, “Not good enough! If you’re this slow, how will you ever catch a thief?”

Su Qiao, stepping on the soft sand, felt the taunt hit its mark. She mustered all her strength and took big strides, declaring fiercely, “I’ll give you a few more steps, so I don’t catch you right away.”

Chi Jue suddenly stopped, planting herself firmly in place. She turned, spread her arms to embrace the wind, and welcomed the person rushing toward her, the one she had been longing for.

I don’t want you to chase so hard. Better to wait like the farmer for the rabbit.

Understanding her urgency, Su Qiao charged forward with the determination of life and death, unable to brake as she firmly scooped up the one she loved, spinning her around in place.

Chi Jue wrapped her arms contentedly around Su Qiao’s neck, letting out a joyful gasp before leaning in to deliver an eager kiss. “You’re so amazing, catching me so quickly~”

“Are you going easy on me, or are you practically giving me the ocean?” Su Qiao lifted her chin to return the passionate kiss.

She savored those eyes that had captivated her time and again.

This time, they weren’t dark and deep like a pond, but adorned with a sky full of stars, the brightest of which was herself.

“Let’s go home, back to our home.” Chi Jue was once again tucked into that oversized down jacket, finally able to claim this safe haven as her own.

“Then I’ll report to Grandma that I’m not coming back tonight.” Su Qiao pulled out her phone and opened an unread text, puzzled. “Why did you say I was ‘eating poetry and lyrics’ tonight?”

Chi Jue was equally confused and showed her the message: “You’re asking me? I was wondering why you suddenly got so inspired, bombarding me with love poems.”

“Did I?” Su Qiao stared at the screen, shuddering at the cheesy verses.

She probably guessed who had taken her phone and said firmly, “It must have been our little old lady. She was so anxious she was hopping mad, scolding me all through dinner, saying if I didn’t chase you soon, you’d run off with someone else.”

“That’s right. If someone didn’t get a clue soon, I really would have run off with someone else. After all, I’m quite in demand~” Chi Jue deliberately teased Little Bear, blaming her for taking so long to make a move.

Su Qiao grew anxious, holding her even tighter, wishing she could lock her against her chest and never let go. “Yeah, right. Not long ago, someone was having dinner with a blind date and got cornered by an ex. So popular, huh?”

She started bubbling with jealousy, sourer than a century-old vinegar mixed with concentrated lemon juice.

Chi Jue stood on her tiptoes, wanting to nibble on the little bear’s lips. “Are you jealous?”

Su Qiao deliberately avoided her, tilting her head back and muttering, “Not at all.”

“Then why do I smell something sour?”

“Your nose must be broken. I don’t smell anything.”

“Stubborn bear, so hardheaded~” Chi Jue pinched Su Qiao’s lips into a duckbill shape and urged, “No hiding. Kiss me~”

Su Qiao hurriedly tucked her away more securely, leaning in to meet those moist, rosy lips. Their tongues tangled, emitting soft, increasingly irrational murmurs, as if swept by waves into the distant depths.

As their breaths grew more frantic, Chi Jue was the first to regain a shred of reason. Blushing, she buried herself in the warm embrace and whispered coyly, “Are you sure you’re not going back tonight?”

“Of course! I’m staying with you until you’re no longer sad.” Su Qiao knew that even though turning from friends to lovers was something to celebrate, Chi Jue would still face the endless darkness late at night. She wanted to be by her side, acting as the little bear plush that chased away the nightmares.

“You’re too good to me. It makes me a little scared.”

For the first half of her life, Chi Jue had never truly understood what love felt like. So, in her relationship with An Jiaqin, she had been passive and ended up getting hurt.

Now, with even the slightest kindness from Su Qiao, it felt magnified and uncertain.

She was afraid of losing it, afraid that time would wear everything away, shadows cast by her dysfunctional family and her unhappy first love.

Su Qiao understood that fear. Aside from the lifelong care from her grandmother, she too had never experienced much affection from others.

In a way, these were two lonely souls who had found their home in the vast world.

They no longer had to struggle to keep themselves warm alone but could hold each other tightly and share that precious warmth.

Being loved was so difficult that, even before experiencing it, they had already learned to cherish it.

Su Qiao looked at Chi Jue seriously, no longer joking around. She raised her hand, slowly interlacing their fingers until they formed a tight fist, as if making a vow to the heavens.

“Being good to my girlfriend is only natural. You’re only allowed to complain that it’s not enough, never that it’s too much. If you’re scared, it’s only because I haven’t given you enough sense of security yet. But it’s okay, time will slowly give you my patience, protection, loyalty, and undivided love until you learn to enjoy my goodness without any burden.”

Chi Jue was moved. Though her nose tinged with redness again, she pretended to be strong and turned her head away.

So, all those terrible relationships had led her down so many wrong paths. So, one person’s love could be given unconditionally.

She sniffled, burying her head to hide the tears welling in her eyes, and stubbornly said, “Making vows so early, there’s no guarantee at all!”

Su Qiao also realized that promises without guarantees were empty, but she couldn’t think of more convincing sweet nothings. So, she enunciated clearly, “The police never lie to the people!”