When The Scheming Female Supporting Character Is Forced To Seduce The Female Lead - Chapter 32

Du Jingmo told herself she would give Zhao Qingdai twenty minutes.

The two houses were separated by only an alley. Feeling an inexplicable unease, she wanted to give Zhao Qingdai space and time, yet she didn’t want to make another trip. She had the driver park at the alley entrance and timed it precisely.

When the twenty minutes were up, she sent Zhao Qingdai a text. After two minutes with no reply, she wondered if Zhao Qingdai was still packing and hadn’t seen her phone. She decided to call instead.

The dial tone echoed in her ear, but there was no answer. The call eventually disconnected automatically.

Her unease peaked. Du Jingmo pushed open the car door and gestured to her ever-present bodyguards hidden in the shadows. Leading the way, she darted into the alley.

The commotion in the Zhao family’s old house had already drawn a crowd of onlookers. Du Jingmo struggled through the throng. As she approached, the stench of blood assaulted her nostrils.

Without orders, her bodyguards kicked the front door open.

The moment she saw the scene inside, Du Jingmo’s mind exploded with a deafening buzz.

The floor was awash in blood—Zhao Qingdai’s blood.

Zhao Yong, consumed by rage, hadn’t even noticed the door being broken down. His face twisted in fury, his eyes crimson, he gripped Zhao Qingdai’s hair and delivered savage slaps to her face.

The bodyguards rushed forward, quickly restraining him and pinching his arms behind his back. Outside, panicked cries and calls to the police filled the air, the scene devolving into chaos.

Du Jingmo sprinted to Zhao Qingdai’s side. She wanted to touch the young woman before her, but her trembling fingers hesitated, unsure where to land.

She pulled out her phone and called for an ambulance, her voice trembling as she forced herself to remain calm, clearly articulating their location.

Zhao Qingdai was still conscious, though barely. Through the fog of pain and disorientation, she heard Du Jingmo’s voice and instinctively reached toward it.

Du Jingmo caught her, brushing aside strands of hair matted with blood to reveal Zhao Qingdai’s bruised and swollen face.

“Sister,” Zhao Qingdai murmured.

Dried blood caked her eyelashes, turning her vision crimson and blurring her sight. She could only reach out instinctively toward the warmth beside her.

Du Jingmo gently took her hand. “I’m here.”

The moment Du Jingmo opened her mouth, tears spilled forth, splashing onto Zhao Qingdai’s face as she lay cradled in her arms.

“Don’t cry,” Zhao Qingdai murmured weakly, straining to open her eyes. “Don’t cry.”

The ambulance siren wailed, growing louder as it approached. Du Jingmo hastily wiped away her tears, watching the medics swiftly and skillfully lift Zhao Qingdai onto a stretcher. Just as she was about to follow into the ambulance, she turned to look at Zhao Yong, who was being restrained.

Her eyes still glistened with tears as she gritted her teeth and snapped, “Take him back to the Du family mansion through the back door and lock him in the storage room of the small garden. Don’t wake Father or Grandfather.”

Her voice was calm, yet Zhao Yong felt a shiver run down his spine.

Du Jingmo had no time to waste on him. After giving her orders, she climbed into the ambulance.

Inside, the medics were assessing and treating Zhao Qingdai. Du Jingmo could only watch helplessly from a distance, her hatred for Zhao Yong deepening with each passing moment.

“Sister… Sister…”

Zhao Qingdai’s consciousness was fading, her calls now driven purely by instinct.

Du Jingmo grasped the hand hanging off the stretcher, unable to do anything else but repeat over and over, “I’m here.”

Zhao Qingdai continued to mutter something, but her voice was so faint that even when Du Jingmo leaned in close, she couldn’t make out the words.

Before she knew it, her clothes were splattered with blood. Sitting in the corridor waiting for the diagnosis results, she stared at the crimson stains on her hands, her vision swimming.

She had never been faint-hearted around blood before, but the thought that it was all Zhao Qingdai’s blood made her breath catch in her throat.

All of this… is my little sister’s blood.

Footsteps approached. Du Jingmo looked up to see a nurse standing before her. “The patient’s injuries were mostly superficial,” the nurse explained. “She was brought in promptly, and the bleeding has been controlled.”

Du Jingmo sprang to her feet. “Can I go in and see her now?”

The nurse nodded. “Yes, but she’s quite shaken up and will need a sedative. You can go in now and speak to her briefly.”

Du Jingmo’s calming presence would likely be more effective than any sedative.

The heavy stench of blood had dissipated, leaving only the antiseptic smell of the hospital. Zhao Qingdai’s face had been cleaned, but the gauze bandage over her left eye only made the bruised and swollen areas around her eyes appear more gruesome.

Even though Du Jingmo had mentally prepared herself before entering the room, her heart still skipped a beat, followed by a sharp pang.

She stepped forward slowly and gently stroked Zhao Qingdai’s hair. The moment her fingers touched Zhao Qingdai’s hair, the girl suddenly began to struggle.

“Sister!” she cried repeatedly, her hands reaching forward weakly, as if grasping at straws.

Afraid that Zhao Qingdai would pull out her IV, Du Jingmo quickly grabbed her hand, soothing her, “I’m here. Don’t be afraid. I’ll stay with you always.”

“Sister…” Zhao Qingdai gradually calmed down, her eyes remaining closed, her lips trembling.

Only then did Du Jingmo clearly hear the words Zhao Qingdai had been trying to say in the ambulance, but couldn’t articulate properly.

Her voice trembled, a sobbing plea filled with caution: “Don’t hate me…”

“What nonsense! How could I ever hate you?” Du Jingmo felt both heartache and anger, tears welling up again.

The doctor, having given her ample time, finally approached to administer a sedative. The drug took effect quickly, and Zhao Qingdai soon drifted into a drowsy sleep, her grip weakening until she could no longer hold Du Jingmo’s hand.

“How long will she sleep like this?” Du Jingmo asked.

The doctor replied, “The medication’s effect lasts approximately four to six hours.”

Du Jingmo nodded and said thank you. She walked to the hospital room door and made a call. First, she called for more bodyguards from the Du family to stand guard outside the room. Worried that the men could only provide security and might not be able to properly care for Zhao Qingdai, she also contacted an auntie who was on vacation to come and look after her.

Standing outside the room, she stared at the disheveled Zhao Qingdai from a distance. Her fingers curled into a fist, the veins on the back of her hand bulging.

“Rest well. I’ll be back soon.”

She hurried out of the hospital and hailed a car to take her back to the Du residence.

At the back door, Du Zhong had already noticed the presence of Zhao Yong. He’d been calling his sister repeatedly without getting through, so he’d stationed himself there to intercept her.

“Exactly what…”

He was interrupted by Du Jingmo raising her hand. “Don’t ask right now, Brother. My mind is a mess. I’m furious, and I need to cool down before I can explain.”

She walked into the utility room without looking back.

Zhao Yong’s hands and feet were restrained, and his mouth was taped shut. Gone was the ferocity he’d displayed toward Zhao Qingdai; his massive frame now curled into a fetal position. His eyes lit up when he saw Du Jingmo, and he tried to lunge forward.

The two bodyguards standing beside him kicked the back of his knees, forcing him to his knees with a pained groan.

Du Jingmo’s face was stern, her eyes fierce. “Beat him.”

It wasn’t enough to punch him barehanded—they needed clubs. Zhao Yong’s mouth was gagged, and he could only groan pitifully. He curled up, trying to protect his head and face, leaving his back exposed to the storm of blows.

“Peel off the tape,” Du Jingmo ordered, leaning against the cabinet with her arms crossed, her chin slightly raised as she looked down at Zhao Yong. “If you can endure without a sound, I’ll let you off. But if you make even half a noise, I’ll knock out every last one of your teeth.”

Her expression was calm, her voice flat, but the words sent a cold sweat down Zhao Yong’s spine.

A sharp pain tore across his face as the tape was ripped off. He tried to seize the moment to explain himself, but two brutal blows to his spine cut him off. He howled in agony and collapsed to the floor.

“You weakling,” Du Jingmo scoffed coldly, unwilling to waste any more time. “Break his teeth.”

She turned to leave. Zhao Yong knew she meant it, terror gripping his heart. He screamed, “Miss Du, listen to me! I did it all for you!”

Du Jingmo burst into laughter at the sheer audacity.

Seeing her stop, Zhao Yong saw a glimmer of hope and blurted out, “I only wanted money! I didn’t realize Zhao Qingdai was a freak!”

“She had two treasure-like chests filled with photos of you! She was secretly taking pictures of you! I lost my temper and attacked her after seeing those photos!”

Du Jingmo slowly turned around.

She approached Zhao Yong, her gaze as cold as ice. “You did it for me? Then shouldn’t I thank you?”

“Miss Du, if you could just let me go, I’d…”

Before he could finish, Du Jingmo snatched the security guard’s baton and brutally struck him on the head!

Thinking of Zhao Qingdai’s face, now barely recognizable, she struck again and again. The warehouse echoed with the sounds of beating and screams.

The guards held back when they acted, but the more she struck, the more her anger and hatred roared within her. She only stopped when the baton flew from her hand, exhausted.

Zhao Yong lay on the ground like a dead dog, his blood pooling on the floor. His body spasmed uncontrollably, the air thick with the metallic taste of blood.

“A freak?” She braced herself against a corner of the cabinet, kicking him in the shoulder. “What kind of trash are you to call her that?”

Zhao Yong’s muscles had already been conditioned to react violently. Though the kick wasn’t particularly forceful, he still let out a pained scream.

Du Zhong had initially intended to give his sister space to handle the situation herself. But upon hearing this agonizing cry, he couldn’t resist pushing the door open and rushing in.

“Enough, Jingmo. Venting your anger is enough.” He pulled his sister back two steps, avoiding the pool of blood that now covered half the floor, seeping from Zhao Yong’s wounds.

Frowning, he asked, “How do you want to deal with this?”

Du Jingmo closed her eyes, struggling to steady her breathing. She knew she wasn’t in the right state of mind. Her jaw was clenched, and a vein pulsed fiercely at her temple.

“I want to kill him,” she said.

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