Chen Siran was lost in thought, barely registering the voice until it repeated, “I’m looking for Jiang Feng. Could you call him out?”
Now hearing it clearly, Chen Siran realized another woman sought Jiang Feng too. Surprised, she looked up, stunned. “Sister Hua? Why are you here?”
It was Sister Hua, with her secretary Ding Lin. Hearing Jiang Feng was at school, Sister Hua had come herself, curious why Young Master Jiang would bother with classes.
Spotting Chen Siran, Sister Hua paused, then smiled. “Siran, fancy seeing you here. What a coincidence.”
Sister Hua’s allure contrasted Chen Siran’s purity. If Chen Siran was a white lotus, Sister Hua was a fiery red one—vibrant, passionate, exuding a mature charm Chen Siran’s youth couldn’t match. Her arrival sent the classroom into a frenzy—girls felt inferior, boys gawked.
Ji Yan stared, dazed. Hearing Sister Hua sought Jiang Feng too, her expression turned colorful—should she curse Jiang Feng or envy him? How did he attract such stunning women? When did his appeal skyrocket?
Chen Siran asked softly, “Sister Hua, you’re here for Jiang Feng too?”
Sister Hua nodded. “I need him for something. Is he around?”
Chen Siran smiled wryly. “No.” Curious about Sister Hua’s purpose but not asking, she’d come to invite Jiang Feng to her birthday party—repaying a misunderstanding at the library and a painting he’d given her. She’d offered dinner, but he hadn’t shown, so it lingered on her mind.
Beyond the invite, she wanted to know who the woman in his sketch was—so like her in looks, yet worlds apart in essence. Was there a connection? She kept that private, not probing Sister Hua.
Sister Hua, learning Chen Siran sought Jiang Feng too, paused. She didn’t ask either—Jiang Feng seemed different now, not to be judged by old standards. “Looks like we’re both out of luck.”
A phone rang. Ding Lin handed it to Sister Hua, who answered, her face paling.
“What’s wrong?” Chen Siran asked, puzzled.
“Jiang Feng’s in trouble—at the police station. I need to go,” Sister Hua said urgently. Her health crisis demanded Jiang Feng’s help; days in lockup could worsen her state beyond imagining.
Chen Siran’s face fell. “I’ll come with you.”
Ji Yan, too far to hear, missed the details but saw their alarm. She pondered Jiang Feng’s ties to them—significant or not, their visit was unusual.
As they left, the classroom erupted.
Jiang Feng’s link to two breathtaking women sparked envy, even among those who didn’t know his face.
*****
After the shooting, Jiang Feng was moved to a solitary cell. In the dim, quiet space, only his rhythmic breathing broke the silence.
Cross-legged on the bed, eyes closed, hands resting upward, his chest pulsed oddly with each breath. Hours passed before his eyes opened. The morning’s fight had sparked insight, but his cultivation hadn’t budged—Earth’s thin spiritual energy stifled him. Despite his supreme techniques, without a breakthrough, the nine-stage body refining would trap him for ages.
A faint sound stirred his ears—footsteps nearing, then stopping. He glanced up as light flooded in. Xia Dongxue opened the iron door, stepping inside.
Her face was pale, still shaken from the morning. Jiang Feng smirked silently. Xia Dongxue’s gaze fixed on him—thoughtful, confused, probing.
After a while, her hoarse voice broke the quiet. “Jiang Feng, the Jiang family’s here to bail you out. You’re free.”
Her heart trembled as she spoke. She knew if Jiang Feng hadn’t acted fast, she’d have been next after Lu Zhisen, who lay in surgery, his fate uncertain. Jiang Feng had saved her.
The incident rocked the station. The chief raged, ordering a thorough probe, only to retract it, urging her to take leave instead.
A hush fell—meetings sealed it tight. Recalling last night’s calls, she suspected Li family pressure, tied to Jiang Feng crippling Li Yuanjue. No proof, and even with it, she was powerless against such giants, leaving her cold and frustrated.
Xia Dongxue kept her stern mask.
Jiang Feng chuckled—he’d seen her softer side and knew this was just her shield. He didn’t mind.
His release was expected. The Li family’s failed move left them vulnerable. They couldn’t afford exposure, shifting them from advantage to weakness. He became a bargaining chip in Jiang-Li dealings—details he neither knew nor cared about. Stretching, he hopped off the bed, striding out.
Passing Xia Dongxue, he saw her lips move, hesitating. He paused. Her face flushed inexplicably.
“Thanks for saving me,” she mumbled, barely audible.
Jiang Feng replied coolly, “You’re mistaken. I saved myself.”
True—in that chaos, self-preservation ruled. Her survival was luck; Lu Zhisen’s misfortune helped.
“No, without you, I wouldn’t be here. Thanks, regardless,” Xia Dongxue insisted.
Her black-and-white outlook amused Jiang Feng. “What, planning to repay me with your heart?”
“You—” Xia Dongxue flared, embarrassed.
Jiang Feng laughed, stepping out. She followed, snapping, “Jiang Feng, I know you’re not like this. Why can’t you talk straight? Must you be so irritating?”
“How long have you known me to judge who I am?” he teased.
Realizing her slip, Xia Dongxue quieted, then said, “Still, you saved me. I’ll remember that—it’s my principle.”
Jiang Feng smiled, waved, and headed out.
For most, a police stint was hell. For thrill-seeking Jiang Feng, thirty-odd hours were a mere detour—nothing uncomfortable.
At the station’s gate, a rugged black Hummer waited, a petite figure leaning against it—Zhao Wuxia. Her small frame clashed with the vehicle’s bulk, drawing eyes effortlessly, overshadowing its worth.
Zhao Wuxia’s charm was undeniable, dulled only by her stiff uniform and stoic demeanor, making her seem unapproachable.
Jiang Feng sauntered over, spotting young officers stealing glances, whispering about “some heiress.” A bold one approached, only to retreat under her icy stare.
Amused, Jiang Feng reached her. “Here just for me?”