Two Faced Lover - Chapter 50

50: Chasing the Light

The company’s reception area was in complete chaos. A woman claiming to be Sun Haoqi’s wife, heavily pregnant and accompanied by her mother and aunt, was making a scene, tearfully accusing him between sobs.

In earlier years, Sun Haoqi’s family had been poor, and it was her family who had provided the funds for his education. The man had insisted on establishing his career before settling down, only marrying her after she became pregnant. To them, Sun Haoqi had always been a hardworking, honest man—clearly, he must have been led astray by some temptress.

The usually refined and scholarly Sun Haoqi now stood there, humiliated beyond words, his face flushed red, his back hunched as he pleaded softly with the young woman, “Let’s talk about this at home, please don’t make a scene here.”

The woman cried even harder. “Make a scene? Oh, now you care about saving face? Where was your dignity when you were doing those filthy things in the parking lot?”

The revelation was staggering. Sun Haoqi had never mentioned being married at work, yet here he was with a pregnant wife—no wedding in sight, only to turn around and engage in a secret office affair with another woman.

Employees within earshot tapped away at their keyboards, rapidly spreading the news, craning their necks to see if there was even juicier gossip to be had.

The woman shot a sideways glance at the office staff peeking out to watch the spectacle and signaled to the two middle-aged women she had brought along.

One with high cheekbones raised her voice sharply, “And where’s that shameless homewrecker? Hiding like a coward in broad daylight after seducing someone else’s husband!”

The other, with wine-red curls, pointed her phone camera into the office. “Let the whole internet see what kind of shameless homewrecker we’re dealing with here! My daughter already warned her last time!”

The crowd erupted in murmurs, most ducking behind their cubicle partitions. Security stepped in to block the middle-aged woman’s filming.

Company executives, accompanied by security, attempted to escort the three women out. The pregnant woman planted a hand on her hip and glared. “Don’t you dare touch me! I’ve got a baby in here—watch yourself!”

The security guards froze, unsure of what to do.

“That woman—what’s her name? Bo Mingyan? Where is she?” The woman glanced at her phone, where someone had sent her information, and sneered. “First seducing the boss, now someone else’s husband—has being a homewrecker become a habit for her?”

The elevator doors slid open, and Bo Mingyan stepped out just in time to hear those words. She had been chatting with Meng Xuran about dinner plans, a faint smile still lingering on her lips—until it vanished in an instant, her face draining of color.

The words tore open the sealed memories she had tried so hard to forget. In an instant, the vicious rumors she had fought to bury came clawing their way out, seizing her heart and lungs.

“There’s the little vixen!” The high-cheekboned woman spotted Bo Mingyan and lunged forward, hand raised.

It was the same scene from her memories.

Bo Mingyan felt as though she had been plunged into ice, frozen in place.

But just as the slap was about to land, Meng Xuran stepped in front of her, catching the woman’s wrist mid-air.

It happened so fast—a split-second reaction, leaving no time for anyone to process.

Bo Mingyan stared at Meng Xuran’s back, her body trembling uncontrollably. The world around her blurred; she could no longer see the expressions of those around her or hear their voices.

Meng Xuran had almost taken that slap for her.

Her nails dug deep into her palms, the sharp pain spreading to her chest, growing heavier until she could barely breathe.

The high-cheekboned woman struggled against Meng Xuran’s iron grip, stunned by the young woman before her.

Meng Xuran’s delicate features carried a classic Eastern softness, but her peach-blossom eyes were icy, her entire demeanor radiating cold fury.

“Who the hell are you?!”

“Security! If you can’t handle a pregnant woman, can’t you at least deal with these two harpies?” Meng Xuran’s gaze swept past the guards like a blade. She released the woman’s wrist and shoved her back.

“Wait—who are you?” Sun Haoqi’s wife demanded, flustered.

Sun Haoqi, humiliated beyond belief, rubbed his face as if trying to erase himself. He whispered his boss’s identity to his wife. “Can you please stop making a scene?”

At the same time, Meng Xuran felt a tug on her arm, pulling her back a step.

Then—

Smack!

The high-cheekboned woman, furious after being stopped by Meng Xuran and called a harpy, seized the moment to swing again—this time aiming squarely at Meng Xuran.

But the slap landed on Bo Mingyan’s face instead.

Five bright red fingerprints bloomed across her cheek.

Meng Xuran’s breath hitched. She moved to strike back, but Bo Mingyan, as if she had eyes on the back of her head, caught her wrist and pulled her back.

To restrain her, Bo Mingyan interlaced their fingers, holding her hand tightly.

Meng Xuran lowered her lashes, staring at their joined hands.

She had imagined this moment countless times—but never like this, never under such circumstances. She clenched her teeth, fighting back the urge to cry.

“Assault is punishable by five to ten days in detention.” Bo Mingyan said coolly.

“Don’t you dare scare me!” The high-cheekboned woman’s eyes darted nervously.

“And what about the woman who seduced my husband?” Sun Haoqi’s wife stepped forward, glaring venomously at Bo Mingyan. “What about the one who ruined my family?”

“Seriously, open your eyes and look at her. With Mingyan’s looks, her poise, her status as a haute couture designer—what part of your husband could possibly appeal to her?” Ava had rushed to the reception the moment she heard Bo Mingyan was back. She planted her hands on her hips and scoffed, “Sun Haoqi’s just a mediocre guy who got in through connections—a phoenix man with no real talent. What could he possibly offer that’d make someone like her lower herself? You might see him as a treasure, but don’t assume everyone else does. Frankly, to us, he’s not even worth a blade of grass!”

The videos and photos weren’t particularly clear, but in person, Bo Mingyan was far more striking than the wife had imagined. It was hard to believe someone so exceptional would stoop to an affair with Sun Haoqi—but then again, the world was full of surprises.

Thinking of the anonymous gossip she’d received about Bo Mingyan, the wife sneered. “Who knows what goes through the mind of a habitual homewrecker? Maybe she just can’t stand seeing others happy.”

“I don’t know where you got your false information, but I have no interest in being anyone’s mistress. Moreover, I have zero interest in men.” Bo Mingyan’s voice was calm, almost detached. “I didn’t seduce your husband, and I’m not the one who ruined your family.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

In today’s society, acceptance of homosexuality was growing, and while many didn’t hide their orientation, few declared it so openly.

The wife faltered. After a pause, she muttered, “Then who’s the woman in the video? It looked just like you walking out with my husband.”

“What video?” Bo Mingyan hadn’t seen it and had no idea what she was talking about.

“We’ve got it! We’ve got the footage!” Gu Miao rushed over, waving her phone in one hand while bracing herself on her knee with the other, panting. “The parking lot surveillance is up—you can’t see Manager Sun clearly, but you can see Bo Mingyan getting out of a different car. She only ran into him afterward, so the woman getting cozy with him wasn’t her.”

The wife fell silent for a long moment before yanking Sun Haoqi’s collar. “Then who is the homewrecker? You’re still protecting her?”

Sun Haoqi, pushed to the brink, turned toward the office. “It’s—!”

“Even if you find out who it is, what then? If he truly loved you, no one could’ve swayed him. You should ask yourself whether a man like this is even worth staying with.” Bo Mingyan cut him off, addressing the wife directly. “You should think carefully about whether this is the kind of person you want to spend your life with.”

“Exactly! When something like this happens, don’t just blame the other woman. If a man had any decency, not even a fox spirit from Strange Tales could seduce him.” Gu Miao leaned against the reception desk. “And let’s not assume it’s always the woman’s fault. Look at this mess—who even knew Manager Sun was about to be a father? He kept his gorgeous wife a secret and played the single elite—what does that tell you?”

She shot a pointed glance at the office staff craning their necks for drama. “What else could he be after but to trick some unsuspecting girl into being his mistress?”

At the mention of “gorgeous,” the wife’s tears flowed harder. She had been beautiful once, but pregnancy had bloated her, leaving her swollen and unrecognizable.

“What else? To deceive innocent girls into becoming his mistress.” Ava spat in disgust. “Makes me sick.”

Gu Miao glanced at Ava, clicking her tongue. The two exchanged a look before turning away, noses in the air.

By now, the haute couture designers and their assistants had crowded around the reception.

Zhou Wenlin adjusted her glasses. “Cheating is a zero-or-infinity game. If he cheats while you’re pregnant, he’s spineless and irresponsible. Dump him now—keeping him around would just waste a New Year’s feast.”

“Preach!” Liu Yang clapped loudly. “And let this be a lesson to all the sleazeballs lurking in the shadows, judging others with their filthy minds!”

Hu Jingjing and the three other haute couture assistants chimed in, “Yeah!”

In the office, a few people ducked their heads lower, while a shadowy figure in the corner shrank further into the darkness.

The flurry of comments laid bare many truths. Sun Haoqi’s raised hand fell limply to his side. He couldn’t even point out the real culprit now. He regretted it deeply—if only he’d exposed the other woman sooner, none of this would have backfired on him.

His career, his life—everything was over from this moment on.

The wife wiped her tears, gave Sun Haoqi one last disappointed look, and turned away. “Mom, Auntie, let’s go.”

Security stepped aside. The high-cheekboned woman rubbed her wrist, muttering curses under her breath, and prepared to leave with the others.

Meng Xuran signaled for security to block their path. “You hit my person, slandered her in public for so long—and now you think you can just walk away?”

Her brows arched, her voice frosty enough to freeze the air. “Who said you could leave?”

My person.

Bo Mingyan’s heart skipped a beat.

Sun Haoqi’s wife looked tearfully between Meng Xuran and Bo Mingyan. “I’m sorry, I was just so upset, and I’m pregnant, so…”

Meng Xuran smiled, though her eyes remained cold. “If apologies fixed everything, we wouldn’t need police.”

She emphasized the word police, her gaze lazily sweeping over the high-cheekboned woman.

Remembering Bo Mingyan’s earlier warning about detention, the woman paled. “This—this was all a misunderstanding!”

The wine-red-haired woman, who knew a bit about the law, pleaded, “Can’t we settle this privately? We’ll compensate her.”

“Right, right! Young lady, I’m so sorry—how about we cover your medical expenses?”

Meng Xuran’s frown deepened. “No.”

Seeing her resolve, the high-cheekboned woman panicked. “Then what do you want?” When compensation failed, she grabbed Bo Mingyan’s hand, trying to force her to slap her back. Meng Xuran snatched Bo Mingyan’s hand away first, stepping protectively in front of her.

Bo Mingyan’s fingers twitched. She suddenly realized she’d been holding Meng Xuran’s hand this whole time, their palms damp with sweat where they touched.

The high-cheekboned woman slapped herself hard across the face, sobbing. “There! Is that enough? I’ve got kids at home—I can’t go to jail! If the neighbors find out, I—”

Having grown up witnessing how gossip could destroy a family, Bo Mingyan opened her mouth to say let it go—but then Meng Xuran squeezed her hand tightly. She glanced down at their intertwined fingers, the turmoil in her eyes slowly dissipating, and stayed silent.

Soon after, the elevator doors opened again, and uniformed officers stepped out.

The involved parties were taken to the police station for statements.

Since Bo Mingyan hadn’t retaliated, the women’s public slapping and slander constituted assault and defamation. The high-cheekboned and wine-red-haired women were detained, while the others were released after giving their statements.

Outside the station, the receptionist and security returned to work.

Bo Mingyan rubbed her fingers, walking beside Meng Xuran toward the parking lot. Her mind and heart were a mess. She wasn’t sure how her impulsive public coming-out would affect their relationship.

Meng Xuran glanced at her. The woman had struck hard, her nails leaving a visible scratch on Bo Mingyan’s cheek, which was now noticeably swollen. Meng Xuran took a deep breath. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Bo Mingyan’s lashes fluttered. At least Meng Xuran’s attitude toward her hadn’t cooled.

“No, just some anti-swelling cream will do.”

This wasn’t her first time being hit—it wasn’t even as bad as last time.

Meng Xuran stared at her, her eyes glistening. Anger churned in her chest—anger at herself for failing to protect the person she cared about, and anger at Bo Mingyan’s calm acceptance.

A calm born from habit.

“We have some at home. Let’s go back—I’ve already asked HR for leave on your behalf.”

“…You mean the anti-swelling cream you used for your butt?”

Meng Xuran deadpanned, “Seems like you care less about your face than I do about my butt.”

Bo Mingyan: “…”

On the way, Meng Xuran stopped at a pharmacy to buy proper facial cream. Back in the car, she dampened a tissue with mineral water and ordered sternly, “Turn your face this way.”

“…”

Bo Mingyan obliged, meeting Meng Xuran’s stormy expression. She blinked. “Be gentle, okay?”

Normally, such a request would melt Meng Xuran instantly—but today was different. She scoffed. “Hah. I was starting to think you couldn’t feel pain.”

Her grip on the tissue was feather-light, her hand trembling with each careful dab.

Every touch seemed to pain her more than it did Bo Mingyan, as if she were the one who’d been struck.

Bo Mingyan studied the mist in her eyes. “Are you… particularly sensitive to pain?”

“Yeah.” Meng Xuran finished cleaning her face, then dipped a cotton swab in ointment, her hand shaking as she applied it to the red marks.

“Then why did you step in front of me earlier?”

Meng Xuran paused, her gaze fixed on the angry welts marring Bo Mingyan’s pale skin. A searing ache gripped her heart, stealing her voice.

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Meng Xuran laughed bitterly. “Because I’ve spent years practicing how to catch slaps. Wanted to test my skills.”

And yet, she’d still missed one.

Bo Mingyan: “…”

“Just kidding.” Meng Xuran swallowed hard. “Because you’re prettier than me. I couldn’t bear to see this face get hit.”

All her reasons were flimsy excuses. The truth was simple: Meng Xuran was the only one who would stand in front of her without hesitation when she was slandered and humiliated.

“She asked Little Meng if she could date women, and Little Meng said, ‘Depends on how pretty they are.’”

Bo Mingyan recalled Lu Yo’s words.

Unable to stop herself, she whispered, “Meng Xuran.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t be so good to me.”

Meng Xuran was carefully applying ointment near the corner of Bo Mingyan’s lips. At her words, she frowned, lifting her eyes to meet Bo Mingyan’s—and saw the anguish and conflict swirling within. Her expression softened.

“Why not?”

Bo Mingyan closed her eyes. The right side of her face tingled under Meng Xuran’s gentle touch, the numbness spreading through her body, leaving her unable—and unwilling—to think.

She was someone destined to be drawn to warmth in the endless dark, helpless but to chase after the light.

“You’re too good. It makes people want to… chase after you.”

Meng Xuran’s hand froze mid-air, her arm stiffening until it ached. Then she smiled. “You know me—I’m delicate, proud, high-maintenance. Temperamental, petty. And yet, somehow, I’m just irresistibly charming. Men, women—they all fall for me. It’s natural to want to chase me. But honestly? Very few meet my standards. Most are, like, three or four out of ten—not even passing.”

Bo Mingyan remained leaning sideways, hands braced on the seat, her fingers curling unconsciously as she listened.

After a long pause, she nodded. “Mm. So?”

“So, I’m incredibly hard to get.” Meng Xuran tilted Bo Mingyan’s chin up with the hand that had been applying ointment, forcing their eyes to meet. “But since you’re so pretty, I’ll give you a seven.”

“You’re already ahead of the pack.”

Outside, neon signs and streetlights flickered to life one by one, their warm glow filtering through the car windows.

“Come chase me, Bo Manman.”

Author’s Note:

Sniffles—Meng Xuran really is such a proud, ridiculous woman.

The reason she didn’t immediately agree will be explained later.