Goodbye, Scumbag! The Powerful CEO Is My New Devoted Lover - Chapter 1

The rain began at dusk.

By the time Su Xiao hung the final painting, a hazy mist had already gathered outside the window. She pulled out her phone, intending to message Yan Mingshen, but her fingertip hovered over the screen before she finally withdrew it.

Yan Mingshen had mentioned this morning that he had an important business banquet tonight. A man like him, navigating the social complexities of wine and deals, likely wouldn’t have time to check his messages.

This was the third year of their marriage.

People in their social circles often joked that Yan Mingshen treated her like a precious treasure—terrified of dropping her if he held her, or letting her melt if he kept her in his mouth.

But Su Xiao didn’t feel that way.

Despite the years they had been together, Yan Mingshen had never touched her. Even on the rare occasions he came home, he slept in the study. After three years, there were hardly any traces of his life left in their home.

And yet, other than that, he truly treated her well. Almost everything in the house was arranged according to her tastes. Whatever she liked or hated, he remembered clearly if she mentioned it even once. It reached a point where even she couldn’t tell if the man loved her or not.

Su Xiao gave a bitter smile and tucked her phone back into her bag. An old injury on her wrist throbbed with a dull ache.

“Xiao Xiao, wait a moment before locking up. I need to go down to the basement.” Her father’s voice drifted from the end of the hallway.

“Got it,” Su Xiao replied. As she turned, she caught sight of the new grey hairs at her father’s temples, and her heart suddenly felt heavy. The Su Family Gallery had been open for thirty years; from a small studio to an artistic landmark, her father had poured his entire life into this place.

“Dad, it’s late and your legs aren’t great. Let me go for you.” The basement entrance was in the backyard, not connected to the first floor, meaning one had to walk through the rain to get there.

By the time she chased after him, her father had already donned his raincoat. “It’s fine. The rain has let up for a moment. I just want to check on the new Xuan paper; I’m worried about the damp.”

“Dad…”

“I’ll be right back,” Su Zhen said with a wave of his hand.

The moment he stepped out, the wind picked up. It lashed the rain against the windows with a low, howling sound. Suddenly, the gallery’s chandeliers flickered twice and went out.

Su Xiao took out her phone and switched on the flashlight. The warm yellow beam swept across the paintings on the wall, offering her a small sense of security. She walked toward the electrical room, intending to see if the main breaker had tripped.

She had only taken a few steps when a scorched smell hit her nose. It was faint, like something had just caught fire.

Frowning, she aimed her light at the electrical room. Light seemed to be dancing through the crack in the door, accompanied by the “sizzle” of an electric current. Her heart hammered. Just as she turned to grab a nearby fire extinguisher, the electrical room exploded.

Orange-red flames licked through the wooden door, instantly igniting the nearby carpet.

Fire!

Thick smoke billowed toward her, sending her into a coughing fit. By the time she regained her senses, tongues of flame had already climbed the ceiling to the chandeliers. Crystal fragments rained down, shattering everywhere.

“Dad! Su Zhen!”

The electrical room was connected to the generator equipment in the basement. Su Xiao didn’t dare think any further. She stumbled toward the backyard, the glass door scorching hot from the heatwave. Wrapping her sleeve around her hand, she wrenched it open.

The wind rushed in, whipping sparks toward her face. The basement door in the backyard was tightly shut. No light came from the cracks—only thick, suffocating black smoke.

“Dad! Open the door!” She hammered on the iron door, her knuckles throbbing with pain. “Dad!”

The wind was too loud. Her voice was swallowed the moment it left her throat, leaving only a smear of blood from her palm against the cold iron.

Lightheaded and panicked, she instinctively called Yan Mingshen. Two calls, both busy signals. Finally, with shaking hands, she dialed the police.

The sirens of the fire trucks arrived quickly. Red and blue lights pierced the curtain of rain, illuminating Su Xiao’s deathly pale face. She knelt in the mud and water, watching firefighters rush into the blaze with hoses, unable to make a sound. A persistent ringing invaded her sensitive nerves.

Someone tried to pull her behind the cordon. She gripped a nearby railing so hard her nails nearly embedded into the wood. With a deafening roar, the gallery roof collapsed.

Flames soared into the sky, turning the rain-soaked night blood-red. In that inferno, her home was being consumed bit by bit…

“Make way! Make way!”

When the stretcher was carried out of the fire, Su Xiao suddenly rushed forward like a madwoman. Beneath the white sheet, she could only see a charred corner of her father’s clothes. She lunged forward, desperate for one last look, but was held back firmly by a firefighter.

“Family members, stay calm!”

“That’s my dad…” Her voice shattered in the rain. “He said he’d be right back…”

The ambulance siren sounded like a blunt knife repeatedly carving into her nerves. As she was being escorted away, she passed the front hall and saw a scorched painting in a glass display case. It was a landscape of a water town her father had painted for her last year. The small bridge and flowing water were still visible, but the top right corner was gone—as if a piece of her heart had been gouged out.

She broke free from the crowd and stumbled inside. She didn’t feel the glass shards piercing her palms as she clutched the manuscript. The paper was wrinkled from the rain, and the ink bled into her fingertips. The rain fell on her in a steady stream. It was so cold.

The hospital corridor was long, the smell of disinfectant overpowering. Mixed with the fishy scent of rain from the passersby, it was nauseating. Su Xiao sat on a bench, staring at the piercing red light of the emergency room.

In her hand, the phone went “Beep… Beep…”

Numbly, she dialed that familiar number over and over again. In three years, no matter how out of line Yan Mingshen was, he had never left her stranded. Why did it have to be today?

The name “Yan Mingshen” in her contacts became blurred and distorted by the droplets on the screen—she couldn’t tell if they were rain or tears.

“Beep… Beep…” Only the busy signal answered her.

Hang up, redial. Still a busy signal.

Just as she was about to give up, the call finally connected. But what came from the other end was the sound of ambiguous, heavy breathing.

“Xiao Xiao, I’m still busy here. If you’re tired, go to sleep first. Don’t wait up for me…”

Yan Mingshen’s voice completely snapped the final string of sanity in Su Xiao’s mind.

“Yan Mingshen, didn’t you say there was a banquet? Didn’t you say you were busy? Where the hell are you?” Her voice shook uncontrollably. She had never spoken a harsh word to him in front of his friends; this was the first time she had ever questioned him like this.

“Xiao Xiao, I really have something important to do. Stop making a scene.” He was in a rush to hang up, as if she were some kind of nuisance.

Su Xiao looked at the closed doors of the ER and felt a sudden, mocking surge of laughter. “How important? Do you have any idea what just happened?”

“The Su Gallery caught fire. My father is in the hospital right now, and you—”

There was a two-second silence on the other end. Then, Yan Mingshen’s voice came through, laced with suspicion: “What did you say?”

The sound of rustling fabric followed; it sounded like Yan Mingshen was about to stand up, but he was interrupted by a woman’s teasing voice:

“Does Miss Su know I’m back? Is she trying to coax our President Yan home?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll return him to you in one piece tomorrow morning.”