Mysterious Beautiful Wife at Home (GL) - Chapter 29

What had she done in Chi Nian’s arms? That time when she fainted and felt cold. Surely she hadn’t done anything, right? The way Chi Nian phrased it made her inexplicably nervous. There was no way she’d done the things from her wet dreams. People couldn’t unconsciously roll around in bed in that state.

“I didn’t do anything, right?” Zhang Yuning muttered under her breath. Chi Nian smiled without answering, seemingly uninterested in arguing about it. Her focus was on the speakers at the symposium.

This kind of academic forum was mind-numbingly dull. But the fact that anti-cancer research was being restarted—and secretly, at that—was a monumental event for the entire country. Back then, the SO Anti-Cancer Laboratory had been forcibly shut down due to some inhumane actions, and the island where the lab was located had been submerged by the sea. Many halfway breakthroughs had been lost, and this little-known secret of the academic world could still be found on the dark web.

Scientific research + medicine = anti-cancer serum? The strange equation popped into Zhang Yuning’s mind. It seemed logical, yet something about it felt off. She also thought about the injections she had received. Putting it all together—was it possible Chi Nian was testing the serum on her?

The more she dwelled on it, the more terrifying it became, sending chills down her spine. She must be overthinking it!

But as Chi Nian took more steps to immerse herself in the medical field, Zhang Yuning grew increasingly uneasy. She feared that in the end, she’d discover Chi Nian really did see her as nothing more than a replacement or worse, a test subject.

Chi Nian listened attentively to each speaker as if she were in a lecture, using a stylus to circle keywords on her tablet. Zhang Yuning cursed her own poor English. Anything foreign was incomprehensible to her, whether written or spoken.

Aside from marking information, Chi Nian also took notes in a black notebook, filled with English abbreviations and numbers that made no sense to Zhang Yuning.

This only reinforced her suspicion; the black notebook was for recording critical information. But did she really need to write down such core details? It wasn’t like she’d forget these people’s names.

With Chi Nian’s linguistic talent, her memory should be just as sharp. At the very least, no worse than Zhang Yuning’s. That was another oddity.

Though she was a doctor outside her field, Zhang Yuning had zero interest in this dry, specialized content. She sat with one leg crossed over the other, chin propped on her hand as she tilted her head to watch Chi Nian. Her free leg swung idly, her gaze shifting between the tablet screen and Chi Nian herself. After all, the venue was filled with old men, old women, and dull-witted officials—who could compare to Chi Nian’s beauty?

People naturally gravitated toward beautiful things. Right now, even a potted plant in the venue was more appealing than the speakers. The attendees alternated between two languages—some were locals, others were Chinese—leaving Zhang Yuning utterly lost.

The two of them looked like the epitome of a top student and a slacker—one excelling to the extreme while still taking diligent notes, the other disinterested yet forced to sit quietly.

Zhang Yuning didn’t absorb a single word from the speakers, letting everything go in one ear and out the other. Her world consisted solely of Chi Nian beside her.

Chi Nian’s gaze fell on Zhang Yuning’s swinging leg. She looked up and asked, “Bored?”

“Uh… not really. I just don’t understand the language and don’t care about the topic.”

A faint smile played on Chi Nian’s lips as she flipped through her tablet. “Then let me give you something to do.”

“What?”

“Didn’t you want to prove you’re an IT genius?”

“I never said that.” Zhang Yuning might be competitive, but she wasn’t reckless enough to make such a bold claim.

“You’re implying exactly that.”

Chi Nian always managed to decipher the depths of her thoughts. IT was indeed self-taught—without some innate talent, she wouldn’t have reached her current level of skill. But with systematic training and professional education, Zhang Yuning believed her abilities could have been far greater. Talent still needed a foundation; without it, she could only go so far.

At the very least, information gathering was something she could definitely master. It irked her that Chi Nian used the dark web instead of relying on her.

“Still, isn’t it better to use someone close to you than a stranger? You never know who’s on the other end of that connection.”

“No need to know who they are. As long as the money’s right, that’s enough,” Chi Nian replied calmly, still tapping away on her tablet.

“But while they’re cracking things for you, they might also peek into your secrets. What if they betray you? Familiar is always better than unfamiliar.”

Chi Nian paused and looked at her, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Are we that familiar?”

“What’s this? Turning cold now? We’ve lived together for a while, and we’re bedmates too.”

“Fair point. It’s not like you can escape anyway.”

Zhang Yuning frowned. Why did that sound so strange? What did she mean by “you can’t escape”? Chi Nian flipped to the previous English document and underlined the names in the signature section. “Look into these two people’s backgrounds—the more detailed, the better.”

She glanced down and saw the names Yu Qinghua and Ai Lin. The very people she had planned to investigate.

“Any leads to start with?”

If she had some basic information, her search would go faster. Driven by competitiveness this time, she was determined to pull out all the stops and turn this into a speed challenge.

Chi Nian answered, “They were the first batch of biologists at the SO Anti-Cancer Lab, core members of the research institute advocating for anti-cancer drug development. They were the youngest female professors there. After the SO Lab shut down, they joined Bohr Corporation to continue R&D. The current life-extending cancer drugs on the market are their work.”

“Got it.” Just as Zhang Yuning was about to ask for a deadline, Chi Nian added, “No rush on this one. I need the most comprehensive details—have it ready the day after tomorrow.”

“Alright. So, you’re not going out these two days, right?” She was afraid Chi Nian might ditch her and run off somewhere. If she had to go out, it would eat into the time, and completing such a high-demand task in two days might be impossible.

“Not for now.”

Only then did Zhang Yuning feel slightly reassured and settled back quietly. She noticed Chi Nian repeatedly reviewing and circling notes, retracing over the same information if it was repeated. No wonder some of the writing looked so dark. She had assumed it was just bold strokes, but it turned out to be layers of rewriting.

This behavior seemed like someone afraid of forgetting, constantly rewriting and rereading.

Did Chi Nian have a bad memory? That couldn’t be. She was fluent in so many languages—how could someone with poor memory accumulate vocabulary or study effectively? She was the all-around top student at Liuli Advanced Institute, holding dual master’s degrees in business and linguistics. Could she really have memory issues?

It seemed she relied entirely on those two notebooks. The edges of the black one were slightly worn, evidence of countless revisits. In fact, Zhang Yuning had memorized everything she’d seen in them—even without decrypting the files, she could recall what was on which page. So,, what was going on with Chi Nian?

Was she always like this, or had her memory deteriorated? Could it be related to her frail health? Her thoughts drifted, and the more she pondered, the sadder she felt.

Zhang Yuning’s gaze had been wandering, but at the thought of these memories, she couldn’t help but fix her eyes on Chi Nian. Sometimes she recalled their first meeting, other times the embrace they shared, or the mundane moments of their daily interactions. Then, the echoes of today’s heated argument would inevitably resurface in her mind.

“What are you staring at me for?” Chi Nian suddenly turned her head, snapping Zhang Yuning out of her daze. Meeting those eyes brimming with untold stories, Zhang Yuning felt her heartbeat spiral out of control every time, as if her soul were being lured away.

Chi Nian had double eyelids, her lashes naturally upturned, and her eyes shimmered with a faint light, like a clear pool that always reflected Zhang Yuning’s own image. When she smiled, the pool sparkled with elusive glimmers; when she was somber, it clouded over with gloom—murky, dark, despondent, and forlorn. In those moments, Zhang Yuning felt as though the entire world owed her something.

At 26, one’s eyes should be bright and clear, yet Chi Nian’s seemed to have weathered countless seasons of sorrow. Beneath her composed calm lay an ineffable sadness.

“I was just spacing out, not staring at you,” Zhang Yuning denied outright, averting her gaze and trying to steady her erratic pulse.

Chi Nian was like a magnet, her powerful field turning Zhang Yuning into a piece of iron, ready to be pulled in at any moment. Was this what attraction felt like? She was being drawn to Chi Nian, unwittingly, gradually succumbing.

This woman was terrifying.

“Is staring at me embarrassing?”

“No.”

A faint smile played at Chi Nian’s lips. “Then am I not pretty enough?”

Zhang Yuning shook her head.

“So, what’s so hard about admitting you were staring?”

It didn’t seem difficult, yet Zhang Yuning felt an overwhelming shame, as if she were some lovesick fool. She lowered her head, fiddling with her hair, her eyes darting around as she replied nonchalantly, “It’s not hard, but I…”

“You really were spacing out, not being lovesick. You just find it embarrassing to admit you were staring, right?”

Zhang Yuning’s lips parted, but no words came out. When Chi Nian wanted to shut someone down, there seemed to be no room for rebuttal.

She stayed silent, head bowed. Better to wait quietly. Getting caught ogling someone’s beauty was undeniably awkward.

There were plenty of beautiful women out there. What was so special about this one? She’d seen Chi Nian countless times in the news. Why was it so unsettling now? It was maddening.

The tedious seminar dragged on, with big shots taking turns to speak, engaging in lively discussions and presenting their ideas and achievements. The seats at the back were reserved for VIPs—people who looked important, though it was unclear which circles they belonged to.

After an hour, Chi Nian closed her notebook and tablet. “Let’s go.”

Zhang Yuning followed her out through an inconspicuous side door. Chi Nian tucked the tablet and notebook into her bag. The lecture had been a blur. Chi Nian had taken notes, but she also seemed to be scouting for someone. Toward the end, she’d jotted down the initials of three names, as if making a selection.

Outside the venue, waitstaff bustled through the hallway. Next door was a restaurant, likely the site of a post-event dinner. Remembering Lan Chengjin’s email and the crowd around them, Zhang Yuning heightened her vigilance, eyeing every passerby with suspicion.

As they headed toward the elevators, a waiter carrying a tea tray walked past. Zhang Yuning glanced at him, and their eyes met. In that instant, the man suddenly lunged, reaching for Chi Nian’s bag.

Chi Nian’s right hand was hooked around her bag strap, and when it was suddenly yanked, a look of terror flashed across her face. Because she instinctively protected the bag, the assailant’s attempt to catch her off guard failed.

Zhang Yuning remained unflustered, her expression darkening as she grabbed the man by his hair and yanked him backward. The attacker pulled a dinner knife from his pocket and lunged at her, but she reacted swiftly, pulling her abdomen back just in time—the blade sliced through empty air. With her other hand, she seized his wrist, twisting it sharply until the waiter was forced to press the knife against his own neck, the blade a hair’s breadth from his jugular.

“Looking to die? Who sent you?” Zhang Yuning growled into his ear, tightening her grip on the knife as if ready to slit his throat. The man refused to speak, even under the threat of death.

Zhang Yuning wasn’t actually going to kill him. She didn’t want Chi Nian to see blood, nor did she want unnecessary trouble. With a forceful shove, she sent him stumbling away.

The man staggered toward the window, barely regaining his footing when an out-of-control food cart suddenly slammed into him, sending him tumbling through the open window. A horrified scream pierced the air before he plummeted from the 33rd floor.

Zhang Yuning’s eyes widened as she rushed to the window. The waiter had already hit the ground—dead. She couldn’t make out the details of his corpse, but it must have been gruesome.

Gritting her jaw, she glanced in the direction the cart had come from. No one was there—only the swinging emergency exit door remained, the person who had pushed it already gone.

This was a silencing.

Zhang Yuning quickly returned to Chi Nian’s side, her voice low. “He’s dead. Let’s get out of here—it’s not safe.” Someone would handle the aftermath, and even if the trouble traced back to Chi Nian, it wouldn’t matter.

They had only acted in self-defense. As for who was behind this, the Third Young Miss likely knew—maybe even Chi Nian had an idea. There was no need to chase after anyone now. Chi Nian’s safety was the priority.

Either this was someone from the list of threats, or an enemy of the Chi family trying to steal the bag—probably because they knew it held something important. So, it wasn’t just Zhang Yuning who was curious about the bag’s contents. Others were after it too, making it a ticking time bomb.

Chi Nian was still shaken, clutching her bag tightly. She showed no reaction to the man’s fatal fall—if anything, she seemed indifferent, almost cold.

“Whoever stands in my way, I’ll destroy them.” Zhang Yuning suddenly recalled Chi Nian’s earlier words. If that man hadn’t fallen, Chi Nian probably wouldn’t have let him off easily.

She truly treated that bag as if her life depended on it—or rather, whatever was inside mattered more than anything. Besides the black-and-white notebook, what else was in there?

Zhang Yuning thought of the syringe she had been injected with, the one she still hadn’t found. If Chi Nian hadn’t left her apartment, it was probably still in the bag. The bag’s size could easily hold a syringe, a small notebook, and a tablet. The fact that Chi Nian never let it out of her sight said everything.

She desperately wanted to open it and see what was inside, but something told her the time wasn’t right yet.

“Let’s go.” Chi Nian finally regained her composure, not even sparing a glance at the scene of the accident. Zhang Yuning nodded.

The two swiftly left the twin towers. By the time their car emerged from the underground garage, ambulances and police had already arrived. The body had landed in the ground-level parking lot—fortunately, no one else had been hit. The area was cordoned off.

Zhang Yuning sped away. Chi Nian’s expression was grave whether from thought or lingering shock, it was hard to tell. Even when faced with assassination attempts, she had never looked this frightened. Just how terrified was she of losing that bag?

“Where to, Dean Apartments or Haitian Bay?” She glanced at the passenger seat, where Chi Nian had one hand tightly gripping her bag while the other rested on top of it—it was hard to tell whether she was holding the bag or herself.

Her eyes were tightly shut, clearly uncomfortable.

“Are you okay? Carsick?” Zhang Yuning began to slow down, her worry growing. Even with makeup on, Chi Nian looked visibly weak, her eyes squeezed shut as she shook her head.

Zhang Yuning considered taking her to the hospital and was about to make a turn when Chi Nian’s hand reached over, lightly squeezing the back of hers. In a faint voice, she said, “Let’s go home.”

Which home? The word “home” always sounded so warm coming from Chi Nian’s lips, sending a rush of warmth through Zhang Yuning’s chest. After a moment’s thought, she turned the car toward Dean Apartments.

The moon lamp had already been moved there. That was Chi Nian’s place, the home she spoke of.

Chi Nian slumped against the seat, and Zhang Yuning accelerated, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of her throat. She didn’t even know what she was so worried about, so afraid of.

An ominous premonition loomed over her, a gnawing unease threatening to swallow her whole.

Finally, they arrived at the Dean Apartments parking lot. Zhang Yuning unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to speak, only to freeze in shock. Chi Nian’s ear was bleeding.

“Chi Nian?” Zhang Yuning’s voice trembled as she called her name, staring at the slow trickle of blood from her left ear. For the first time, she felt utterly panicked.

Chi Nian’s lips were chapped, her pallor showing through her lipstick. She was barely holding on, but still conscious.

“Are we home?” she asked weakly, her breathing shallow and rapid. Zhang Yuning hastily grabbed a tissue, wiping the blood as she said, “Your ear is bleeding.”

Chi Nian’s expression faltered. Zhang Yuning pulled the tissue away, now stained bright red, and held it up with a shaking hand. “This…”

“It’s nothing, just an ear infection.” Chi Nian took the tissue, crumpled it, and tossed it into the car’s trash bag before stepping out.

Zhang Yuning’s heart raced as she hurried after her. Chi Nian walked briskly, forcing her to jog to keep up. “You should really go to the hospital. A normal ear infection doesn’t cause bleeding like this. And no condition just makes you bleed for no reason.”

“I told you, it’s fine. Just a minor issue.”

“Your exhaustion and the ear bleeding are definitely not minor. Trust me—I’m a doctor.”

“You can call yourself a doctor?”

“I have a medical license, you know.”

“Did you buy that license?” Chi Nian actually had the energy to tease her, stubbornly refusing to listen.

“If you don’t want to go, fine, but don’t insult me. I earned that license.” Zhang Yuning played along with her forced lightness.

Even though she only ran a small clinic, she had medical knowledge. Even if she couldn’t pinpoint Chi Nian’s exact condition, she knew something was seriously wrong. She needed a thorough check-up.

But Chi Nian was adamant about not going to the hospital, insisting she was fine. Zhang Yuning couldn’t persuade this stubborn, willful heiress.

As they reached the door, Chi Nian suddenly turned around, her face expressionless but visibly haggard. Zhang Yuning dreaded to imagine how pale she’d look without makeup.

Could it be that today’s attack had shaken her?

“Don’t dwell on what happened at the Twin Towers today.” So, Chi Nian finally remembered this incident? But why tell me not to worry about it?

“Will it cause you any trouble?”

“No, it wasn’t you who pushed him. Don’t carry that burden.”

Chi Nian seemed to be comforting me—was she afraid the man had fallen because of my shove? Did she worry I’d blame myself?

“I don’t feel burdened. His death was his own doing.” Zhang Yuning wasn’t unfamiliar with death. In the slums, life was a daily struggle between survival and demise. People starved, fell ill, died—every day, bodies were hauled to the crematorium.

Hell on earth lay right beside paradise, separated only by a river, a chasm between heaven and the abyss. That was why life, death, and human emotions meant little to her.

Chi Nian looked at her and nodded. “Good.” With that, she turned and walked inside, not bothering to change her shoes before heading straight to the bathroom.

Zhang Yuning felt a weight in her chest and exhaled deeply. The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Chi Nian was either washing away traces of blood or removing her makeup. Her heart kept pounding erratically for some inexplicable reason.

She opened her laptop and couldn’t resist searching for conditions related to bleeding from the ears. Deep down, she already knew the possibilities—ruptured capillaries, ear canal damage, otitis media, or, in the worst case, a tumor. But none of these would cause such a sudden, heavy flow of blood.

Chi Nian’s symptoms didn’t match any known illness. What was really going on? This woman was shrouded in too many mysteries. When would the truth finally unravel?

Just then, a pop-up news alert flashed on the screen—about the Twin Towers incident. The official statement labeled it a suicide, meaning someone had intervened to control the narrative.

Chi Nian hadn’t contacted anyone or made any arrangements, yet no trouble had come knocking. Someone else had handled it—but who? Mo Lin Di? Or the Third Miss?

Lan Chengjin had foreseen the danger, suggesting the Third Miss was the first to know. She clearly valued Chi Nian deeply.

If that was the case, then most of Chi Nian’s troubles were likely resolved by the Third Miss and Mo Lin Di. She had connections in both the underworld and high society. With these two handling things in the shadows, she had nothing to fear.

Before long, Zhang Yuning heard the bathroom door open and saw Chi Nian walk into the bedroom.

“Are you okay?” she asked, following her.

“I’m going to rest for a while.”

“Wait.” Zhang Yuning hurried ahead, setting up the moon-shaped nightlight, drawing the curtains tightly, and adjusting the room temperature to a comfortable 26°C before turning back to Chi Nian. But before she could speak, her heart clenched in pain.

Chi Nian’s face was deathly pale, her complexion ghostly even in the dim light, like someone who had lost too much blood.

Noticing her expression, Chi Nian lowered her gaze and touched her own face. “Do I look terrible?” she murmured.

“Not at all. I just think you seem too weak.”

“Don’t lie to spare my feelings. I do look in the mirror.”

Hearing this, Zhang Yuning had an idea and deliberately teased, “See? When you’re unwell, it affects your beauty. Someone as stunning as you wouldn’t want to look pale and sickly all the time, right? It ruins your charm.”

Chi Nian looked at her, the corners of her lips lifting slightly, but she said nothing.

“You must have a big project to work on, right? Although I don’t know what it is, in your current physical condition, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed.”

Chi Nian lowered her gaze, a flicker of disappointment flashing in her eyes. She picked up her bag and walked to the bedside, letting out a deep sigh. “You’re right. Most of the time, I feel utterly incompetent—always failing, always paying a heavy price. Not a single thing I wanted to do has turned out well.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Zhang Yuning felt her words had backfired and quickly explained, “Obviously, health is the foundation of everything. What you’re doing requires mental energy. You should get checked, take care of yourself, take medicine if needed. Recharging your energy will make everything more efficient.”

“I don’t have time to waste like that, and there’s no need. Let me say it again, I’m not sick.” Chi Nian sat on the bed, looking weakly at Zhang Yuning. “You can go now. Don’t call for me.”

Zhang Yuning felt clumsy with words, as if nothing she said made a difference. Defeated, she nodded and turned to leave, shoulders slumped.

“Wait.”

Zhang Yuning turned back. The two locked eyes for a moment before Chi Nian beckoned her with a gentle smile. “Come here.” Still weighed down by frustration and disappointment, Zhang Yuning walked over, unsure what Chi Nian wanted.

“What is it?” She sat by the bed. Chi Nian opened her arms and smiled softly. “Give me a hug.”