I Could Never Fall In Love With A Villain - Chapter 22

Chapter 22: It Was Her Doing

The silence that had frozen the office finally began to thaw after several minutes.

It wasn’t that Song Jinxun had no questions; rather, he appeared exceptionally composed, seemingly indifferent to Song Xingyao’s cold mockery. He turned around with leisure, making himself a cup of coffee with relaxed movements.

Song Xingyao stared at his brother’s back until his patience finally snapped. He cut straight to the chase: “Did Mu Yin go to the house yesterday?”

Song Jinxun didn’t look back. “Since the fact is already established, what is the point of asking again?”

“What was she doing there? And why was she with Pei Che?”

“Since you’re asking about Mu Yin and Pei Che, why not go directly to them?”

Song Xingyao stood up abruptly, his eyes burning with anger. “Is that question so hard to answer? I just want to know what they said to Mom…”

Compared to his explosive rage, Song Jinxun remained unhurried, his movements fluid and calm. “I wasn’t there when they arrived. I only got home as they were leaving, so I’m not entirely clear on the details.”

“Not entirely clear, but surely not entirely ignorant?”

Song Jinxun’s voice was as flat as water. “I have nothing I wish to tell you.”

He turned around with his coffee, a gentle smile on his lips, though the eyes behind his lenses remained cold and analytical. Song Xingyao detested this side of him most—hitting Jinxun was like punching cotton, only to realize that beneath the soft exterior lay a bottomless, freezing ocean.

“Don’t think that just because you’re sending Mom abroad, I’ll follow,” Song Xingyao said coldly after taking a deep breath.

Song Jinxun smiled. “It seems you care for Mom quite a bit after all—completely unlike how you act in front of Grandfather.”

The brothers’ gazes locked: one full of fury, the other mild and smiling. Neither held any warmth.

Realizing he would get nothing out of Song Jinxun, Song Xingyao strode out of the office. Behind him, Jinxun’s calm voice drifted: “Remember to close the door.”

Song Xingyao, naturally, did no such thing.

As the scowling “Little Director Song” marched through the office, employees bowed their heads, buried in their work for fear of catching his temper. The friction between the Song brothers was common knowledge.

Song Xingyao gripped his phone, his brow furrowed. Although he got no info from his brother, his mother’s psychological state had clearly improved. The change might be subtle, but as a son who closely monitored her issues, he could sense the shift.

However… he couldn’t connect the names “Mu Yin” and “Pei Che” in his head. And why was Song Jinxun being so tight-lipped?

He decided to find out himself. He scrolled past Mu Yin’s name on his screen, hesitated for two seconds, and tapped another contact: “Do you have Pei Che’s contact info?”

Mu Yin… forget it. How could it have anything to do with her? It was better to ask Pei Che. He was a psychology professor. If his mother was improving, it must be due to Pei Che’s professional expertise.

…

Pei Che was in the lab when his phone rang. Seeing an unknown number, he merely glanced at it before setting it to vibrate and continuing to answer a student’s question.

“Professor, that patient Wei Wentao shows typical signs of schizophrenia, but the EEG doesn’t show any abnormalities.”

“Could he be faking it? To get a lighter sentence?”

“Speak with data, not speculation,” Pei Che said flatly. The gossiping students fell silent.

Wei Wentao was a murder suspect claiming schizophrenia, currently in custody awaiting trial. He was a subject of their study, but after analyzing interviews, questionnaires, and behavioral records, the students were left with doubts. Pei Che answered their questions methodically as they scrambled to take notes.

“Professor, I have one more question regarding criminal psychology,” a student ventured. “Can a criminal ever be forgiven after receiving psychological treatment?”

Pei Che checked the data as he replied, “Forgiveness isn’t something psychology can define. That is the prerogative of the victim, society, and the law.”

“If treatment successfully corrects a criminal’s aggression, then their future risk to society decreases—like fixing a broken machine so it doesn’t hurt anyone else. But the victim’s trauma doesn’t vanish because of that. We only deal with ‘whether it can be repaired.’ As for whether they should be forgiven, that is a question for a different dimension.”

One student pointed timidly: “Professor Pei, your phone keeps ringing.”

Pei Che frowned, assuming it was the same unknown caller. He was about to block it when he saw a familiar name on the screen—Mu Yin.

The students watched as their professor’s frown instantly vanished. He stood up and stepped into the hallway to answer. Though his expression remained professional, the detail was enough to prove the caller was someone close to him.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Am I bothering you?” Mu Yin’s voice came through, accompanied by a slurping sound, as if she were drinking bubble tea.

“No.”

Mu Yin breathed a sigh of relief. “I wanted to ask if there’s any channel to get more data on psychological patients. We need enough data to train the AI to handle different issues… I know it’s private, so I don’t need personal info, just the psychological data.”

“It’s not impossible, but it isn’t simple.”

Pei Che’s answer was a reassuring weight. Mu Yin said, “That’s fine, I can wait.”

“When are you free? We can sit down and talk in detail,” Pei Che suggested.

Then came her sigh. “I’ve been dragged back to work at the Mu family company. They shoved several projects on me, and I’ll be working overtime lately…” She struggled to add, “Give me a few days, I’ll contact you then!”

“Mhm.” He paused, then said casually, “I’m quite busy too, you know.”

Mu Yin: “Then I’ll apply for a meeting in advance. Does Professor Pei have any requirements for the word count or format of the application?”

She caught his implication instantly. It sounded polite, but he knew she was being snide again.

Pei Che’s lips twitched slightly. “No requirements. Just let me know as early as possible.”

“Got it, got it,” Mu Yin replied dismissively, then suddenly stopped. “Huh?”

The “huh” wasn’t directed at him, but at something she was seeing.

“What’s wrong?” Pei Che asked.

“Our R&D is stalled because of the data shortage, and since I’m busy, I told the interns to take a break,” Mu Yin explained while replying to messages. “But an intern just asked me if data on schizophrenic patients would be helpful for the product.”

Pei Che interjected: “That sounds like he has a way to get that data.”

“I’m asking him now.”

“What’s the source? Is it legal? If it’s just personal data, don’t take it. Schizophrenic data has a high risk factor.”

Mu Yin knew this. Her tone grew heavy and urgent. “I have to go, something’s up.” She cut the call before he could respond.

Pei Che was about to message her when his screen flashed again with the unknown number. Ten calls—perhaps it really was urgent. He pressed answer.

“Pei Che.” The voice on the other end was clear, accompanied by the sound of rushing wind.

Song Xingyao was on his motorcycle, the scenery blurring past him. “You finally picked up. You’re a hard man to reach.”

Pei Che paused. “And you are?”

“…” Song Xingyao didn’t bother arguing. “You saw my mom yesterday. What’s the situation?”

Pei Che realized who it was. “Song Xingyao.”

“In the flesh. Glad you remember me; saves me the introduction.”

“I was at the Song house and did an assessment for Mrs. Song.”

“My mom’s condition is improving. Was that your doing?”

Pei Che’s eyes flickered. “You think her mental health has improved?”

“Just answer the question.”

Recalling Mu Yin’s words from that night, Pei Che allowed a faint smile to touch his lips. “Contact Mu Yin directly. It was her doing—I am merely her psychological consultant.”

The call went dead. Song Xingyao didn’t care about the hang-up; his heart was filled with shock.

Really related to Mu Yin? How is that possible?

But Pei Che had no reason to lie. Song Xingyao slammed on his brakes and immediately dialed Mu Yin.

Ring… ring… ring… No answer.

What is it with these people and not picking up their phones? He didn’t have time to dwell on it. His temper was usually explosive, but for his mother’s sake, he found a sudden well of patience. He restarted his motorcycle.

Forget it. I’m going to find her myself.

…

Mu Yin tried to contact her intern, “Pants Dropped to the Side,” for the fourth time, but failed.

The intern’s real name was Peng Ku, a student from Jiabei University recommended by Professor Xu. He was technically skilled and passionate. When she told them to pause R&D, Peng Ku seemed unhappy. Mu Yin thought she had found the “perfect corporate slave.”

She didn’t expect him to go out and look for data himself. His sudden cryptic message followed by silence made her worry.

Mu Yin: Pants, you aren’t trying to steal data, are you? Mu Yin: If it’s not legally obtained, it’s a risk. I won’t use it under any circumstances. Mu Yin: Don’t use your skills the wrong way. Mu Yin: Forget it, let’s talk in person. Are you free? Come to my office or I’ll come to you.

…

Peng Ku didn’t reply to a single message, and his phone was off. Then, suddenly, his phone vibrated with a new message.

It was just an address.