Yin and Yang - Chapter 14

Shen Qingwei turned her head to find Mr. Zhao sitting beside her, his arm around her shoulder. A strange feeling rose within her; fear, timidity but these weren’t her emotions; they belonged to Xiaoqian.

She tried to get up, but this body wouldn’t obey her. Trapped within the shell, she could only remain still and listen to their conversation.

“Why so quiet?” Mr. Zhao chuckled. “Doesn’t Xiaoqian like her new uncle?”

“Has this new uncle been unkind to Xiaoqian? He’ll treat you very well. From now on, if you want to buy something or eat something, just ask Uncle. He’ll give you whatever you want.”

The sinister tone sent chills down Xiaoqian’s spine. Her fingertips trembled as she glanced toward the master bedroom, where a woman was tidying her clothes. Watching the woman’s slender figure, Xiaoqian suddenly felt a surge of reassurance. Her eyes reddened as she whispered, “I like him.”

“That’s good,” Mr. Zhao said. “Now, be a good girl and don’t take that medicine tonight. Daddy has a new one for you.”

He emphasized, “Don’t tell Mommy.”

Xiaoqian took the unlabeled medicine bottle from his hand. The pills rattled inside. Looking at the bottle, she realized what was about to happen. But instead of fear, she asked as Mr. Zhao stood up, “Does what we said still count?”

“Of course,” Mr. Zhao said. “My good daughter, if you help your father this time, I’ll sign the divorce agreement with your mother immediately afterward. I’ve even written you a guarantee. Why would I lie to you?”

“I promise, this is the last time.”

A glint of amusement flickered in Mr. Zhao’s eyes, making him look every bit the cunning old fox. Xiaoqian watched him grip the medicine bottle tightly and instinctively glanced toward the window. She nodded. “Alright.”

Satisfied with her response, Mr. Zhao picked up his phone and sent a message to Fu Yuan.

While waiting for a reply, he returned to the master bedroom and said, “Nothing much going on tonight. Let’s get some rest early.”

The woman turned to look at him. “I want to sleep with Xiaoqian.”

“Xiaoqian’s a grown woman! What’s with you still sleeping with her all the time? It’s ridiculous!”

The woman merely glanced at him, her expression unreadable. Mr. Zhao asked, “Oh, where’s your medicine?”

“In the drawer.”

Mr. Zhao opened the drawer and saw the medicine bottles inside. He pulled out one bottle and replaced it with another. Soon, he received Fu Yuan’s reply: “Understood. Arrange the timing.”

He put away his phone and glanced at the woman.

The woman was beautiful, with delicate features. She had been the most popular goddess at his university, and he had pursued her relentlessly until she finally agreed to be with him. They married immediately after graduation, and their marriage was happy until their daughter was born. Then, his company assigned him to a multi-year overseas assignment. Later, he discovered that this assignment had been deliberately orchestrated.

After graduation, they both joined the same company. He performed well, but her work was exceptional, earning her bonuses more than double his. At first, he was pleased, believing it was a sign of the boss’s appreciation. He was right. The boss did appreciate her, but not for her work.

Shortly after he left, the boss began pursuing her aggressively. He only learned the truth upon his return, when a friend showed him photos of her entering a hotel with the boss, claiming she had cheated on him and even questioning whether their daughter was his. Consumed by rage, he began to seek revenge on her.

This was the price of betraying him!

Gradually, no one believed the woman’s words. She was forced to cling to him like a dog, but he remained unsatisfied. He wouldn’t even touch this rag of a woman, instead giving her to his friends, superiors—anyone who wanted her.

Once, while hosting a business partner for dinner, he noticed the man eyeing Xiaoqian. He knew his opportunity had arrived.

He loathed the mother and daughter. When in a good mood, he would coax them; when in a foul mood, he would force them to turn on each other before his eyes, then rush them to the hospital, claiming the woman had relapsed.

No one would believe the woman’s words. They would only pity him and his daughter.

After all, the woman had always been mentally ill. Later, her medication caused further confusion, leading her to say and do bizarre things. As for Xiaoqian, she once accidentally ingested her mother’s psychiatric medication, temporarily regressing to the mental age of five or six. This happened frequently afterward. Because she spoke little and struggled to communicate, few people knew about it.

He controlled the mother and daughter through these means.

Mr. Zhao glanced at the woman, sneered, and left the room to fetch a glass of water from the kitchen. Returning, he said, “Take your medicine first.”

The woman glanced at him, then at her daughter sitting on the sofa behind him. Tears welled in her eyes as she accepted the medication, tilted her head back, and swallowed it. Mr. Zhao left, satisfied. As soon as he was gone, she rushed to the bathroom and vomited up every last pill, a cold glint in her eyes.

As night fell, Mr. Zhao coaxed Xiaoqian to bed early. He crept back to his own room, pushed open the door, and, seeing the woman asleep, succumbed to his dark desires. He carried her to Xiaoqian’s bed, laid her down gently, and was about to act when Xiaoqian suddenly appeared, saying, “I can’t find my medicine.”

Mr. Zhao cursed under his breath and left the bed to search for Xiaoqian’s medicine. He finally found the bottle under the sofa, handed it to her, and watched intently as she swallowed the pills. “Your mother will sleep in your room tonight,” he said. “You can sleep in the master bedroom.”

Xiaoqian clutched the hem of her shirt, bit her lip, and entered the master bedroom. Her retreating figure lingered in Mr. Zhao’s mind, rekindling his unspent lust. He stared at her retreating figure for a long moment before pushing open the door to the master bedroom.

His sudden appearance filled Xiaoqian with terror. Years of abuse had robbed her of the instinct to scream. When her father abused her as a child, neighbors had called the police. But her father would always blame her mother, citing her mental instability and history of self-harm. People whispered that Xiaoqian had inherited her mother’s madness. At school, no one spoke to her, treating her like a monster, refusing even to glance her way. At home, her father would lash out at the slightest provocation, then secretly take her to the hospital. She told her neighbors, the doctors and nurses, the police, anyone who would listen. But they all dismissed her as mentally ill, some even suggesting her father commit her to a psychiatric hospital.

She was terrified of such a place, having heard rumors that it devoured people. She couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from her mother. Eventually, she stopped speaking altogether.

“Xiaoqian,” Mr. Zhao said as he entered the room, “did you bathe tonight?”

Xiaoqian trembled against the edge of the bed, her expression a mix of fear and anxiety. Her eyes were filled with despair as she clutched the blanket tightly, sweat beading on her forehead. Her face was deathly pale. When she didn’t answer, Mr. Zhao continued, “Why won’t you answer your father? Then I’ll just have to check myself.”

“I washed,” Xiaoqian whispered weakly. “I took a shower, Dad. I took a shower.”

Her voice trembled with tears, her face glistening with water droplets. Yet Mr. Zhao found this tear-streaked appearance even more endearing, suddenly recalling their first meeting years ago. It had rained that day, and the woman’s face had been dotted with raindrops, making her eyes sparkle like jewels.

He swallowed hard. “Then Daddy needs to check to make sure you washed properly.”

“Dad, no! Dad, don’t! Ah…”

The room filled with Xiaoqian’s desperate sobs, each one heart-wrenching. Outside the door, a woman stood frozen, her eyes bloodshot and bloodshot, perhaps from missing her medication. Visions flickered before her eyes until her daughter’s piercing cries for mercy cut through the haze.

She stumbled back a few steps, her body trembling with rage. Every muscle shook violently until her gaze landed on a pen lying on the coffee table. Without hesitation, she snatched it up and lunged toward the room, but instead of entering, she veered into the kitchen. The kitchen was in chaos, everything overturned as she frantically searched. When she finally found a fruit knife, she glanced toward the main room and suddenly laughed, the blade reflecting her twisted smile with an eerie gleam.

Mr. Zhao, oblivious to the footsteps outside, was unaware that Fu Yuan was due to arrive in an hour. The woman was already asleep. He planned to first satisfy his own desires, then have Xiaoqian shower before properly receiving Fu Yuan—plenty of time for everything. His plan seemed perfect. He pulled Xiaoqian into his arms, ready to kiss her, but she frantically kicked and struggled, her terror overwhelming her, leaving her on the verge of suffocation.

Just as he was about to tear her clothes, a sudden weight lifted from her body, and a spray of blood splattered across her face. The man turned in disbelief and slapped her hard. Unfazed by the blow, she lunged at him with the knife. He tried to fight back, but Xiaoqian clung to him with all her might, her face drenched in blood. Gritting her teeth, she pinned him down until his body went limp.

After stabbing him five or six times, the woman stopped. Mr. Zhao collapsed onto Xiaoqian, pinning her beneath his blood-soaked weight. The stench of blood was nauseating, and the man’s face, so close to hers, filled her with revulsion. Just as she tried to push him off, he suddenly rolled over! Xiaoqian’s face tightened with fear, and she cried out, “Mom!”

The woman’s eyes widened in shock, as if she hadn’t expected him to survive even this. For a fleeting moment, her gaze faltered—just long enough for the man to snatch the fruit knife from her hand and, without hesitation, plunge it into her chest.

Xiaoqian’s heart jolted. She shoved the woman aside and threw herself in front of her. Everything seemed to slow to a crawl. Shen Qingwei watched Xiaoqian’s reflection flash across the blade, those terrified eyes. She couldn’t tell if they were her own or Xiaoqian’s.

The blade was sharp, but instead of stabbing, the man gripped the handle horizontally. He yanked Xiaoqian forward, dragging the blade down her throat.

Shen Qingwei squeezed her eyes shut.

A massive force slammed into her shoulder. She stumbled forward, collapsing to the ground. She touched her neck and felt blood welling up, staining her hand crimson. When she looked up, she saw Senior Sister’s beautiful face, now grim and resolute.