After Abandoning Her, She Discovered That Her Partner Was a Paranoid - Chapter 9

The police station’s fluorescent lights stung Jing Feizuo’s eyes.

When the police arrived, she was locked in a brawl with the man, her fists landing with dull thuds that seemed to vent her pent-up frustration. Even as he yanked her backward by the hair, sending waves of tearing pain through her scalp, she mechanically continued swinging, as if trying to pound out all the suffocating anger trapped in her chest.

It wasn’t until she was taken to the hospital and the antiseptic smell filled her nostrils that she belatedly realized bl00d was trickling down behind her ear.

Now, she sat on the hard bench in the mediation room, the back of her hand swollen and her knuckles still red.

The middle-aged officer taking her statement frowned so deeply he could have crushed a fly between his brows. He sighed as he typed, “You know, it’s good to stand up for what’s right, but resorting to violence is another matter entirely.”

Jing Feizuo remained silent, staring at the corner of the room.

“Let’s contact your family,” the officer said, pushing her phone across the table. “Or a friend. Get someone to come pick you up.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Jing Feizuo unlocked her phone. The screen displayed her call history, with a missed call from Wen Jin at the top.

She had received the call during her hospital examination, silencing the ringtone at the time. Later, she texted Wen Jin to let her know she was dealing with something urgent.

She scrolled through her call history and dialed another number. When the call connected, Lin Xin’s voice, still drowsy, answered, “…Hello?”

“I’m at the police station,” Jing Feizuo said bluntly. “Can you come pick me up?”

A two-second silence followed, then the rustling of clothes and a gritted, “Send me the address. Wait there.”

Twenty minutes later, Lin Xin burst into the police station like a whirlwind, her hair hastily tied up and pajamas still visible under her coat.

She spotted Jing Feizuo immediately and gasped at the sight of her bandaged head. “You said on the phone you weren’t badly hurt!”

Jing Feizuo shrugged. “Just some superficial cuts here and there.”

Lin Xin sighed, negotiating with the police officer while scrutinizing Jing Feizuo from head to toe to confirm she hadn’t lost any limbs. She shot her occasional glares.

After everything was settled, the two women walked out of the police station, the glass door closing behind them with a dull thud. As Jing Feizuo stepped off the curb, a hoarse, furious shout erupted—

“You fucking stop right there!”

Whether he had been waiting specifically for her to emerge from the station, the man broke free from his girlfriend’s grip and staggered toward them.

The gash on his forehead had scabbed over, but his rage twisted his face into a near-feral snarl. Dried bl00d crusted his stubble, making him look utterly terrifying.

“This isn’t over!” he roared, waving his bandaged arm, brown medicinal stains seeping through the gauze. “I’ll make you pay until you’re bankrupt!”

The woman behind him clung desperately to his shirt, nearly being dragged off her feet. “Please, stop this!” she pleaded.

Jing Feizuo’s gaze briefly met the woman’s. Beneath her swollen eyelids, her bloodshot eyes brimmed with a complex mix of guilt and exhaustion.

Lin Xin instinctively stepped in front of Jing Feizuo, aiming her phone’s camera at the man. “One more step and I’m calling the police. The security cameras are recording everything—assault with intent to harm.”

The man seemed further enraged. He suddenly grabbed a nearby soda can and hurled it at them, but his weakened arm sent the aluminum can barely landing at Jing Feizuo’s feet.

Jing Feizuo stepped forward, crushed the can under his heel, and kicked it hard toward the man before turning and striding toward the road, leaving behind the man’s hysterical curses and the woman’s stifled sobs.

Lin Xin jogged to catch up, then chuckled. “The way that woman looked at you—like you were some Saint come to save the world. What’s this? Has our great artist decided to switch careers and become a savior now?”

Jing Feizuo’s expression remained stern. “Where’s your car parked?”

Lin Xin: “……”

“I didn’t realize you were walking so fast!”

She led Jing Feizuo to the car. Jing Feizuo’s lips twitched as he surveyed the vehicle, its paint chipped in several places. “You came in this old clunker?”

Lin Xin adopted a serious tone. “I was afraid if I brought a nicer car, that bastard would try to extort you.” She paused, her expression turning exasperated. “Who knew he’d be such a lowlife? I bet even if you were a beggar, he’d try to steal your begging bowl.”

Jing Feizuo snorted coldly. “We’ll see if he can even lift it.” With that, she opened the passenger door and climbed in.

Lin Xin opened the driver’s side door, the hinges creaking softly. She turned the key, the dashboard lighting up with a blue glow. Resting one hand on the steering wheel, she adjusted the air vent to point toward Jing Feizuo.

Tapping her finger twice on the steering wheel, she confirmed their destination: “So, you want to go to Wen Jin’s place now?”

Jing Feizuo, who had been gazing out the window, turned her head. The gauze behind her ear stood out starkly in the dim light.

She tugged at the corner of her mouth. “If I were going to Wen Jin’s, I wouldn’t have needed to call you over.”

Lin Xin’s eyes widened, and she slapped the steering wheel.

“I knew something was off! You didn’t even ask Wen Jin to come? She’s always been at your beck and call!”

Jing Feizuo remained silent.

Lin Xin sensed gossip in the air. “So…” she lowered her voice, leaning unconsciously toward the passenger seat, stretching her seatbelt to its limit, “what’s going on between you and Wen Jin?”

She drew out the last word with dramatic flair, like a tabloid reporter uncovering a scandalous secret.

Jing Feizuo pointed expressionlessly to the gauze wrapped around her arm and then shook her swollen right hand. “Miss Lin, is this really the time for gossip?”

Leaning back, she closed her eyes. “Just take me home. I’m dizzy and just want to sleep.”

Lin Xin pursed her lips, her gaze sweeping over Jing Feizuo’s disheveled hair and the faint bruises peeking out from her collar.

“But I can’t just leave you alone like this. I’m worried.” She reached out to touch Jing Feizuo’s forehead, then hesitated and withdrew her hand. “Why don’t you stay at my place tonight?”

Jing Feizuo shook her head, her eyes still closed.

“Really, I’m fine,” she said softly after a pause. “I just need some time alone.”

Lin Xin opened her mouth to protest, but seeing Jing Feizuo’s pale face, she sighed instead. She turned up the car’s heat and switched the music to a soothing piano piece.

“Fine, be stubborn if you want,” she muttered under her breath. “But I expect a message from you tomorrow morning, letting me know you’re safe.”

After receiving Jing Feizuo’s firm assurance, she backed out of the parking space. In the rearview mirror, the blue and white sign of the police station gradually shrank as the car accelerated into the night, the engine roaring.

By the time Jing Feizuo returned home, it was past midnight. The moment she switched on the lights, she finally saw her disheveled state in the full-length mirror by the entrance: swollen knuckles, gauze reddened behind her ear, her trench coat and jeans covered in dust, and a tear in the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

She removed her coat and jeans, then tried to pull off her sweatshirt directly, but the movement aggravated a hidden injury in her shoulder blade, causing her to gasp sharply in pain. She had to slow down, peeling the garment off inch by inch like skin.

After struggling out of her clothes, Jing Feizuo stepped into the bathroom. Hot water gushed from the showerhead, washing away the lingering dust and bl00d from her skin.

As she squeezed out the body wash, the scent that filled the air acted like a switch, triggering a sudden memory: Wen Jin’s fingers gliding across her back, the gentle, meticulous touch of the bath sponge against her skin.

She abruptly turned off the shower. The bathroom fell silent, save for the drip of water hitting the tiles and her deep, sighing breath.

The condensation on the mirror finally gave way, the droplets sliding down the reflection of Jing Feizuo’s silhouette like tears.

After a quick wash, she hastily dried herself, slipped into her pajamas, the fabric brushing against her wounds with a faint sting. She collapsed into bed, her cheek sinking into the soft pillow, her eyelids finally heavy enough to close. Darkness flooded her vision like a rising tide, and exhaustion surged through her limbs, her body feeling as if it were sinking into the depths of the sea.

She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep when Jing Feizuo’s leg suddenly twitched. She stumbled forward, her vision snapping into focus, but instead of the bed or her bedroom floor, she found herself standing on the stone-paved square.

The square was packed with people.

Jing Feizuo stood at the center of the crowd, feeling the surge of the surrounding human tide.

The air was thick with a cacophony of smells: the savory aroma of grilled meat from street vendors, the cloying scent of someone’s heavy perfume, the acrid stench of car exhaust—the city’s clamor brazenly asserting itself through its odors.

Suddenly, a piercing shout cut through the square’s cacophony.

“Airplane! Look up!”

Jing Feizuo jerked her head upward, and the crowd around her seemed to freeze, every face turning skyward in unison.

At first, she saw nothing but azure sky and wisps of white clouds. But then she noticed it—a silver speck growing at an alarming rate.

That wasn’t a normal flight path.

Jing Feizuo heard someone beside her gasp.

The plane was diving toward the plaza at an unnatural angle. It grew larger and larger, until the outline of its wings, the arrangement of its windows, and even the airline logo on its fuselage became clearly visible. Jing Feizuo’s internal organs suddenly twisted into a knot, and an icy terror surged up from the soles of her feet.

The plaza fell into a brief, deathly silence, as if everyone were trying to process this impossible sight.

Then, panic erupted like a tidal wave.

“Run!”

Screams pierced the air. The crowd scattered like a disturbed ant colony, fleeing in all directions. Jing Feizuo was swept forward by the human current, her shoulders and arms constantly colliding with others.

She glanced back at the sky. The plane now filled half her field of vision, impossibly large. Strangely, its descent seemed slower than it should have been, like a slow-motion scene in a movie. Jing Feizuo could clearly see the black scorch marks beneath the nose and the thick smoke billowing from the right engine.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, threatening to burst through her chest.

The crowd around her began to thin out, not because people were scattering, but because they were literally vanishing. Like pencil marks being erased, one after another, people disappeared silently before her eyes.

The clamor in the square gradually subsided, leaving only the echo of Jing Feizuo’s own heartbeat and footsteps ringing in her ears.

She glanced back again. The aircraft now nearly filled the entire sky, casting an enormous shadow that loomed over her. Just as the plane was about to crash into the square, Jing Feizuo felt an intense sensation of falling.

She jolted awake, gasping for air.

Sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, casting a golden line across the bedsheets.

Staring at the familiar ceiling, it took her a full ten seconds to confirm she was lying in her bed. Instead of the acrid smell of burning wreckage, she detected the savory aroma of fried eggs.

A sudden realization struck Jing Feizuo, so urgent it eclipsed her lingering unease from the nightmare. She scrambled out of bed, rushed out of the bedroom, and stopped abruptly when she saw the door to the adjacent room still tightly locked.

Only then did she exhale in relief, turning toward the living room. As expected, a familiar figure stood in the kitchen.

Wen Jin stood with her back to Jing Feizuo at the stove, wearing a loose-fitting beige knit sweater. Her hair was casually pinned up, with a few strands framing her neck, making her appear softer than the formidable business magnate who struck fear into the hearts of the corporate world.

The frying pan sizzled, its savory aroma filling the air.

Jing Feizuo asked in a hoarse voice, “Why are you here so suddenly?”

Wen Jin didn’t turn around. With a flick of her wrist, she deftly flipped the fried egg.

“I got a message from a friend this morning saying he saw you leaving the hospital last night.”

She turned off the heat and faced Jing Feizuo, her gaze landing on the gauze behind Jing Feizuo’s ear. “You didn’t answer my calls or the door, so I got worried and just came in.”

She paused, then added, “You told me the password when I helped you retrieve those documents last time.”

Jing Feizuo went to her room and retrieved her phone. The screen showed several missed calls.

She pressed her lips together. “I wasn’t questioning you.”

Wen Jin slid the fried egg onto a plate. “So, what happened last night?”

“Nothing much,” Jing Feizuo said, pulling out a dining chair and sitting down. “I ran into some lunatic on the street.”

She gave a brief summary of the incident, deliberately omitting any mention of Shen Zhiyi or the document bag.

Wen Jin pushed the breakfast plate toward her, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jing Feizuo poked the fried egg with her fork, the golden yolk oozing out slowly. She looked up. “You were busy with that cross-border merger yesterday, right? I didn’t want to worry you, so I called Lin Xin instead.”

Wen Jin didn’t press further, simply pouring a glass of warm milk and placing it beside Jing Feizuo’s hand. The two ate breakfast in silence, the only sound the clinking of silverware in the morning light.

They sat across from each other, the scene seemingly cozy. But Jing Feizuo couldn’t shake the feeling that Wen Jin was angry.

The air hung thick and heavy, concealing dangerous emotions that weighed down on them like the oppressive heat before a thunderstorm. The tension grew thicker, pressing on Jing Feizuo’s chest, leaving her wondering when the storm would finally break.

Yet even after they finished breakfast, the storm remained unreleased.

Wen Jin retrieved the first-aid kit and gestured for Jing Feizuo to sit closer. She carefully unwrapped the gauze, her movements as light as a feather when disinfecting the wound.

“Are you going out today?”

“Yeah, I have to go to the studio for that stage projection design project I took on recently. It’s an extra commercial collaboration.” Jing Feizuo felt the cool touch of the cotton swab on her wound, surprisingly painless. “What about you? Don’t you have work today?”

Wen Jin’s fingers paused behind Jing Feizuo’s ear.

“My job today is to be your driver.”

Jing Feizuo couldn’t help but laugh. “I can’t afford your wages.”

Wen Jin carefully applied a fresh bandage, gently pinching Jing Feizuo’s earlobe. “Free of charge.”

Jing Feizuo packed up the medical kit. “After dropping you off at the studio, I’ll head to Wen Group to earn some extra money.”

Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the dust motes drifting lazily in the air. The dark clouds seemed to be gradually dispersing. As Jing Feizuo watched Wen Jin’s fingers tremble slightly while packing up the medical kit, she suddenly realized that Wen Jin hadn’t been angry earlier—she had been afraid.

Despite this realization, Jing Feizuo found herself asking, “Were you angry during breakfast?”

Wen Jin paused, as if carefully choosing her words. After a long moment, Jing Feizuo finally heard her voice.

“No… I was just worried. From the moment I received the news until I saw you, I imagined countless possibilities.” Wen Jin’s jaw tightened, and her voice trembled slightly. “Then I saw your injuries, and I was terrified. What if that person had lost control…?”

Jing Feizuo froze, then moved closer and awkwardly wrapped her arms around Wen Jin.

Wen Jin pressed her forehead against Jing Feizuo’s cheek.

“But I was also a little angry. You were beaten, hospitalized, and taken to the police station, yet you didn’t even think to tell me at any point.”

“I’m sorry,” Jing Feizuo mumbled into Wen Jin’s embrace. “But I was the one who hit someone.”

Wen Jin chuckled and released Jing Feizuo.