After Abandoning Her, She Discovered That Her Partner Was a Paranoid - Chapter 10

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Jing Feizuo’s studio, bathing the room in bright light and illuminating the clear, sunny day outside. Yet Jing Feizuo sat slumped in her chair, her energy drained.

She stared at the screen, where the draft she had been editing all morning lay open.

After sitting for too long, a sharp ache in the back of her neck felt like a thin needle piercing through the bone and into her skull. She tossed her stylus onto the desk and reached up to massage her neck.

When Wen Jin had dropped her off that morning, she had asked worriedly, “Are you sure you don’t need to rest?”

What had Jing Feizuo replied? With unwavering certainty, she had said, “Don’t worry, it’s just a minor injury.”

Now, this “minor injury” was mocking her with its sharp, relentless pain.

As Jing Feizuo raised her hand to adjust a layer, the swelling in her shoulder felt like it was being licked by flames. When she instinctively stretched, the tearing pain made her involuntarily grimace.

To make matters worse, the client’s contradictory feedback—demanding both “high artistic merit” and “mass appeal”—felt like a wet ball of yarn tangled in her mind, preventing her from thinking clearly.

When her assistant pushed open the door, Jing Feizuo was staring at the distorted color blocks on the screen, filled with regret.

“Boss, your coffee.”

The soft clink of the paper cup against the desk pulled her back to reality.

Jing Feizuo took the coffee, sipped it, and the bitterness exploded in her mouth. The intense, burnt aroma mingled with an unmistakable sourness, making her face scrunch up as if she’d been punched.

She stuck out her tongue, the lingering bitterness refusing to fade. “If it weren’t for needing to stay awake, I wouldn’t touch this stuff.”

Her assistant, sipping through a straw, blinked innocently. “I think it tastes great!”

Jing Feizuo gave her a thumbs-up, glancing at the time in the computer’s lower right corner. “It’s lunchtime. Order two takeout meals—my treat.”

By the time the takeout arrived, Jing Feizuo had just saved a round of edits.

She snapped apart the chopsticks, picked up a piece of beef, and sauce dripped from the tip onto the edge of the container, releasing a mouthwatering aroma.

Just as she was about to bring the beef to her mouth, her phone vibrated. Jing Feizuo glanced at the screen and saw an unfamiliar number.

Frowning, she hesitated before answering.

A heavy, ragged breathing came through the line, followed by a man’s raspy voice: “Is this Jing Feizuo? You thought escaping the police station yesterday meant this was over?”

Her chopsticks froze mid-air, the sauce dripping from the beef onto the table, forming a small, dark brown circle.

“Let me tell you, it’s not going to be that easy!” The man’s voice crackled with static, as if he were standing in a gale. “Medical expenses, lost wages, emotional distress—you won’t get away with paying a single cent less!”

Jing Feizuo slowly lowered her chopsticks, her voice as cold as ice. “The police have already mediated. If you harass me again, I won’t hesitate to call them again.”

“Call the police?” The man sneered, the sound of car horns blaring in the background. “You think I’m scared? Let me tell you, I—”

She hung up abruptly, slamming her phone face-down on the table with a dull thud.

The assistant beside her cautiously looked up, chewing her food. “Boss, are you okay?” she mumbled.

Jing Feizuo reassured her. “I’m fine. Just eat. We need to visit the client’s office this afternoon.”

With that, she picked up her chopsticks and resumed eating. But the once-appetizing beef now tasted bland. She forced herself to swallow a mouthful of rice.

During the workday lunch break, Jing Feizuo woke groggily from her nap and stared at the screensaver animation on her computer screen, sinking into deep self-doubt. How had she managed to turn an incredibly flexible profession into something resembling a rigid office job?

She recalled the project’s compensation and took a deep breath.

It’s because of the money.

Remembering the afternoon’s meeting, she washed her face and instructed her assistant to gather the materials for their departure.

As the two money slaves stepped out of the studio, Jing Feizuo spotted the man. He must have found the studio’s address somehow and had been waiting for some time, leaning against a utility pole across the street, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his eyes fixed on her with a sinister intensity.

Jing Feizuo paused, turning to her assistant to whisper, “Go ahead to the company. I’ll catch up later.”

Before the assistant could even turn to leave, the man had already strode toward Jing Feizuo.

“Trying to avoid me?” he grinned, baring his teeth. “You were so brave charging in last night. Turns out you do have fears after all?”

Jing Feizuo glared at him coldly. “What do you want?”

“Money,” the man said bluntly. “Five hundred thousand, and I’ll disappear.”

Jing Feizuo rolled her eyes skyward. “In your dreams.”

The man’s face darkened, and he suddenly grabbed her wrist. “You think I’m negotiating with you?”

Jing Feizuo violently shook him off. The man stumbled, but before he could lunge again, a figure darted between them.

It was the girl.

Her face was pale, but her eyes burned with determination as she glared at the man. “Enough! Aren’t you ashamed enough already?”

The man froze for a moment, then exploded in fury. “Whose side are you on, you b1tch?”

Ignoring him, the girl turned to Jing Feizuo and bowed deeply. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Jing. I promise he won’t bother you again.”

Jing Feizuo frowned. “This isn’t your problem.”

“I can’t just stand by,” the girl said with a bitter smile. “Our families… our relationship is complicated. We were supposed to get engaged, but that’s off now. Still, our business ties remain.”

Looking into the girl’s weary eyes, Jing Feizuo suddenly didn’t know what to say.

The man sneered from the side. “Playing the hero? If you hadn’t stuck your nose in—”

“Shut up!” The woman whirled around, her voice cracking like a whip, startling the man into silence.

Turning back to Jing Feizuo, she said softly, “You should go. I’m so sorry for bothering you.”

Jing Feizuo glanced at her, nodded, and turned away, washing her hands of the messy situation.

The woman walked to the roadside and summoned a car with her phone. Within minutes, a sedan glided to a stop before her. The window lowered, revealing a driver in white gloves resting his hand on the steering wheel. “Ms. Jing?”

“Mm-hmm,” she replied curtly, opening the back door and sliding into the seat.

The car smoothly merged onto the main road, the scenery blurring past the soundproof windows, which completely sealed out the city’s clamor. Jing Feizuo stared at her hand, the bruises on her knuckles now a dark purple, glaring under the sunlight.

The car stopped at a red light. Pedestrians hurried across the crosswalk. Jing Feizuo’s gaze drifted out the window, unconsciously following a woman in a red dress until she disappeared across the street. Her thoughts drifted away with the woman, her fingers restlessly twisting the Buddhist prayer beads on her wrist.

The driver’s voice pulled her back to reality. “Ms. Jing, we’ve arrived at the Financial Center.”

Jing Feizuo straightened her collar, murmured an acknowledgment, pushed open the car door, and strode through the office building lobby to the designated floor.

Her assistant was already waiting there, visibly relieved to see her. “Boss, the client is reviewing the proposal inside.”

She glanced at the conference room through the frosted glass, catching glimpses of shifting figures inside.

“Double-check the final version of the proposal,” she murmured to her assistant, smoothing her shirt cuffs. “Especially those revisions they requested last time.”

The assistant nodded vigorously. Jing Feizuo chuckled softly. “No need to be so tense. Let’s go meet our golden goose.”

Inside the conference room, the projector hummed softly as Jing Feizuo displayed the design drafts on the screen. The client’s director, a middle-aged man with a slicked-back hairstyle, frowned and tapped his chin with a pen, the faint scratching of the nib against his stubble grating on her nerves.

“The overall concept is good,” the director suddenly said, pointing with his pen. “But this color scheme is too traditional. We want something groundbreaking.”

Jing Feizuo maintained her professional smile. “I understand your needs.” She swiped to another page, displaying a different color scheme. “This version…”

The Director nodded. “I think this one looks quite good.”

Jing Feizuo’s smile remained polished, but her eyes had already glazed over with a detached emptiness, her inner self rolling its eyes skyward.

This “good” version was precisely the one that had been rejected earlier.

The original feedback had been: This color scheme is too bold. Please make it more conservative.

She glanced sideways at her assistant, who was taking notes. The assistant’s confused expression was illuminated by the blue light of the tablet.

Jing Feizuo recalled the strange expressions of her industry friends when they learned who her contact person was. She finally understood the pity in their eyes.

She let out an almost imperceptible sigh and was about to continue her presentation when the glass conference room door suddenly slid open. A man in a dark gray suit strode to the Director’s side and whispered a few words. The Director’s expression immediately shifted, his relaxed facial muscles tightening.

“Ms. Jing,” the Director said, looking up again. His face was now creased into an exaggerated smile, and even his voice had softened considerably. He rubbed his hands together. “Headquarters just called. They’re extremely satisfied with this project. Let’s proceed with the original plan.”

The sudden shift left everyone stunned. Jing Feizuo saw her assistant’s face light up with surprise and instinctively tightened her grip on the laser pointer.

“Very well,” Jing Feizuo heard herself say, her voice calm as if she had anticipated this all along.

She set down the laser pointer and reached over to turn off the projector. The sudden change in lighting made everyone squint. On the darkening screen, the last thing to fade was her design’s signature—those small characters stubbornly flickering in the shadows before vanishing completely into the darkness.

On the way back, the assistant, still buzzing with excitement, chattered incessantly beside Jing Feizuo. “That Director was such a pain! How did he suddenly approve the plan?”

Jing Feizuo smiled. “Check their company’s records. See if Wen Group Holdings is behind them.”

The assistant’s eyes widened in realization. “So, Boss, you think President Wen is pressuring them?”

Jing Feizuo tapped her thigh with her fingertips, the sound muffled by the soft fabric. “It’s just a guess.”

The assistant bristled. “But according to your design, it should have been approved long ago! Even larger projects we’ve handled before didn’t give us this much trouble.”

Jing Feizuo chuckled, trying to soothe her. “Well, that’s what happens when your boss lacks seniority. But it’s okay—at least they’re paying us well.”

The assistant gave her a complicated look. “But Boss, I followed you precisely because of your reputation…”

Jing Feizuo offered a wry smile.

She wasn’t lying to her subordinate. During her undergraduate studies, her artwork had unexpectedly gained immense attention, catapulting her to fame and earning her the favor of a renowned master.

After graduation, her status as the master’s last disciple only intensified her popularity, leading to a flood of invitations and collaborations.

Abroad, with her mentor’s backing, Jing Feizuo had been shielded from overt and covert hostility. Now, without that protection, the malice of those who coveted her fame while looking down on her youth began to surface in full force.

Having encountered such situations repeatedly, Jing Feizuo had learned to handle them with composure, even finding a certain satisfaction in it.

By the time she returned to her studio, it was already evening. She dismissed her assistant, staying behind to organize the final research materials.

Time slipped by unnoticed as she worked diligently. By the time she finished, the sky had darkened completely. She instinctively reached to stretch, then quickly stopped herself, instead touching the gauze behind her ear.

With the case closed, Jing Feizuo felt a wave of relief wash over her. She suddenly remembered Wen Jin’s words from earlier that morning: “My friend saw you leaving the hospital.”

But she clearly recalled that the hospital was located in a remote area with virtually no one around.

Frowning, she reopened her browser and searched for information about the hospital from memory.

The webpage loaded slowly, and she scrolled through the results one by one. Most of the information was either official announcements or medical advertisements, with little useful content.

Just then, her phone rang. Another unfamiliar number.

After a moment’s hesitation, Jing Feizuo answered.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end was the same girl from earlier that day, her voice trembling with tears. “Ms. Jing, did he… did he harass you again later?”

Jing Feizuo paused, surprised. “No.”

The voices on the other end faded, leaving only the ambient noise. After a moment, she heard the girl say, “That’s good. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

Jing Feizuo sensed something was wrong and spoke up before the girl could hang up. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

The girl seemed to finally lose control of her emotions, her voice trembling. “He was in a car accident. He’s in the ICU now. I was in the car too…”

“You were in the car?”

“Yes, I was in the back seat. I only sustained minor injuries,” the girl continued. “The police said it might have been a brake line failure, but I know that’s not true. His car had just been serviced recently, and he received a phone call right before it happened…”

The girl’s voice grew softer. “No… I didn’t mean anything by that. I just wanted to make sure he hadn’t been harassing you again… I’m sorry.”

Jing Feizuo’s mind suddenly flashed back to the document Shen Zhiyi had given her—the fate of one of the individuals listed was almost identical to this “accidental” car crash.

The only difference was that the person in the document had died, while the current victim still had a chance of survival.

She wanted to ask more questions, but all she heard was a brief dial tone.

She hung up the phone, her thoughts in turmoil.

Just as she was about to shut down her computer, she noticed an inconspicuous link in the corner of the screen.

It was a news report from several years ago, titled “Wen Group Invests in XX Hospital to Build High-End Medical System.”

Jing Feizuo’s fingertips grew slightly cold.

She clicked the link and quickly skimmed the article.

The report mentioned that the Wen Group had not only invested in the hospital but also participated in upgrading its information systems. In the comments section, an anonymous user claimed that the hospital had experienced a patient privacy breach, which was quickly suppressed.

As she scrolled down, the page soon reached its end. The last thing she saw was a photo accompanying the article, showing Wen Group executives smiling and shaking hands with hospital leaders.

Among the rows of people behind them, a familiar face caught her eye. Upon closer inspection, she recognized the emergency room doctor who had examined her earlier.

An icy chill, like a venomous snake, slithered up her spine, raising goosebumps across her skin.

Her phone chimed, startling Jing Feizuo.

She picked it up. The lock screen displayed a message from Wen Jin: “I’ll come pick you up later.”

The brief line of text held Jing Feizuo’s gaze for a long time.

Finally, she locked the screen and closed her eyes tightly, as if having made a firm decision.