Chapter 68
It’s unclear whether Qin Mofeng noticed anything unusual about that phone call. If he simply assumes it was a wrong number, things could get troublesome.
Shen Yan struggled against the ropes binding him but to no avail—they were tied too tightly.
He looked around the room again. The layout seemed normal, just an ordinary bedroom with the curtains drawn. Shen Yan glanced at the door, which was tightly shut. There was no sound coming from outside, and it appeared that no one was stationed there. He began to push the chair toward the window inch by inch with his feet.
His legs were tied together at the ankles, leaving him with almost no leverage. Each push only moved the chair a few centimeters. It took all his strength to cover the two-meter distance to the window. Once there, he peered out through the gap.
Damn it!
By rough estimation, the building was at least 30 floors high, and across from it was a mountain—no signs of human activity anywhere.
He had initially assumed they were in a villa, likely only two or three stories tall. He’d hoped to get a sense of the surroundings and maybe find a chance to escape. Now, it seemed that escaping through the window would only lead to his death.
Hmm?
Suddenly, a strange melody caught his ear. It came from outside and sounded vaguely familiar, though he couldn’t immediately place it.
Bang!
The door flew open.
“So, still thinking about escaping?”
The voice of Duan Yang reached Shen Yan’s ears, but he wasn’t surprised in the slightest.
At the same time, he loathed both Duan Yang and Ling Sicheng. Aside from Duan Yang, there wasn’t anyone else he could think of who would pull a stunt like this.
What puzzled him, though, was how Duan Yang—who had already been sentenced—was still out here causing trouble. And this time, he’d gone so far as to kidnap him and Ling Sicheng. Clearly, Duan Yang had lost his mind and was ready to go down with everyone.
With these thoughts swirling in his mind, Shen Yan didn’t bother looking at Duan Yang. There wasn’t much he could say anyway—his mouth was sealed with tape.
Duan Yang seemed to be in a good mood. He walked over, yanked open the curtains, and stood by the window, gazing outside with a leisurely expression. “Not bad, right? The view here is great. I only recently discovered this apartment. Unfortunately, I couldn’t buy it, so I had to rent it under someone else’s name.”
In other words, no one would know they were here.
Perhaps Duan Yang felt it was boring to talk without a response. He ripped the tape off Shen Yan’s mouth, then leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, arms crossed, and stared at him smugly. “So? Still think you can escape? Aren’t you the master of slipping away?”
Shen Yan ignored the mockery and asked, “How did you manage to capture Ling Sicheng?”
Duan Yang, eager to show off, immediately launched into an explanation. “Simple. I’d had someone keeping an eye on him for days. He doesn’t drive and doesn’t like having a driver pick him up, always opting for taxis. Last night, I had someone pose as a taxi driver outside his company. Sure enough, he came out past midnight, in a hurry to get to your place, and got into the car without a second thought. He even fell asleep on the way. But…”
Ling Sicheng hadn’t been easy to capture. Duan Yang had seen firsthand how good he was in a fight. To be safe, he’d brought in several people to subdue Ling Sicheng.
Although Ling Sicheng had been beaten up badly, Duan Yang’s hired thugs hadn’t gotten off lightly either.
But none of that mattered. What mattered was that Ling Sicheng was now in his hands. Duan Yang had even vented some of his pent-up anger with a few punches and kicks.
“So, all the messages you sent me were fake?” Shen Yan asked.
“Exactly,” Duan Yang smirked smugly. “I went through Ling Sicheng’s message history with you. I’ve been keeping a close eye on both of you, so I’ve mastered mimicking his tone and style when texting.”
“I’m curious about one thing,” Shen Yan said. “When I saw the message this morning, I called Ling Sicheng, and it was him who answered.”
Duan Yang let out a laugh, filled with pride. “You’re wrong—it wasn’t him. Don’t you know there are people skilled at imitating voices? That call was answered by someone I hired to mimic Ling Sicheng’s voice. It wasn’t perfect, but we intentionally made it sound deeper. There’s no way you could tell the difference. I have to say, I didn’t expect you to be so cautious—reading the message wasn’t enough; you even called to verify. Good thing I planned for that and brought in an expert impersonator.”
So that’s how it was.
If Shen Yan hadn’t made that call, he might’ve noticed something off about the messages later on. But because he heard “Ling Sicheng’s” voice, he let his guard down.
His cleverness had backfired.
“What do you want?” Shen Yan cut to the chase, unwilling to waste any more words.
Duan Yang’s gaze suddenly fixed on Shen Yan’s stomach. Shen Yan’s heart sank as he noticed the shift in expression. Duan Yang’s smirk faded, replaced by a malicious sneer. His voice turned icy. “I heard you’re pregnant.”
Shen Yan’s palms grew clammy with sweat as he stared at Duan Yang warily, his heart pounding.
What was this psycho planning?
Shen Yan knew that Duan Yang hadn’t gone to all this trouble to treat them kindly. He could easily push both of them off the 30th floor in a fit of rage. But what terrified Shen Yan even more was the possibility that Duan Yang wasn’t targeting him but the child inside him.
Duan Yang’s gaze remained fixed on Shen Yan’s stomach before he suddenly lunged, grabbing Shen Yan by the shoulders and shaking him violently. He roared, “Shen Yan, you really are a piece of trash! You wrote in your diary how much you loved me, saying you underwent the fertility procedure just for me. You even wrote that if I accidentally slept with you while drunk, you’d gladly give birth to my child and die without regrets! And now what? You turned around and slept with another man—and got pregnant? How dare you betray me, you filthy liar!”
Smack!
Duan Yang slapped Shen Yan hard across the face. His veins bulged, his bloodshot eyes glaring murderously. “You tell me! Aren’t you just a slut? You say you love me with all your heart, but it must’ve felt amazing to cheat on me, huh? Judging by how nervous you look, you must really care about this bastard child, don’t you? Dream on!”
He suddenly started tearing at Shen Yan’s clothes in a frenzy. “If Su Yunzhe got you pregnant, I’ll make sure this bastard dies today!”
“Duan Yang, stop! You’re insane, a complete lunatic!” Shen Yan shouted, panic flooding his voice.
He had always known Duan Yang was deranged but hadn’t anticipated this level of madness.
No matter how much Shen Yan cursed, Duan Yang continued tearing at his clothes. Bound tightly, Shen Yan couldn’t move to resist. In desperation, he bit down on Duan Yang’s hand with all his strength.
“Ah!” Duan Yang cried out, jerking his hand back in pain. Furious, he kicked at Shen Yan’s stomach.
Shen Yan’s face turned ghostly pale with fear, his mind blank. Instinctively, he blurted out, “Shen Yan is already dead! The Shen Yan you knew is long dead—killed by you!”
Duan Yang froze, his foot stopping just short of Shen Yan’s stomach. He stared at Shen Yan in bewilderment, unable to process the words.
What did he mean, Shen Yan was dead? What was he talking about?
Shen Yan exhaled shakily, relief flooding through him. His heart had nearly stopped from fear. If that kick had landed, the child would’ve been lost for sure.
Though Shen Yan was still reeling from the shock of his unexpected pregnancy—and had even considered not keeping the baby—it was Su Yunzhe’s child. No matter what, he couldn’t let anything happen to it.
Duan Yang snapped out of his stupor, realizing Shen Yan had tricked him. His face twisted into a cruel smile. “You think that’ll stop me? You think I’ll let this bastard child live?”
He raised his foot again.
“I’m not lying!” Shen Yan shouted desperately. “That Shen Yan—the one who wrote those diary entries and underwent the procedure for you—he’s gone. You beat him to death. Don’t you remember?”
At this moment, Shen Yan appeared remarkably calm, but his tone carried an unyielding authority.
Duan Yang thought he was simply making up nonsense to buy time, but when he met Shen Yan’s composed gaze, a strange sense of unease crept into his heart.
“What nonsense are you spouting? You are Shen Yan!” Duan Yang retorted, his voice a mix of anger and doubt.
“You know whether I’m lying,” Shen Yan replied evenly. “Why do you think I suddenly became indifferent to you overnight and insisted on divorcing you? You’ve read those diaries—you know how much the Shen Yan who married you loved you. You were certain someone who loved you that deeply could never change their heart, weren’t you? You were right. He loved you so much that even after you killed him through your abuse, he still clung to hope. Do you remember the night before I asked for a divorce? Do you remember how you grabbed his hair and smashed his head against the corner of the table? How you left him bleeding alone in the room? Do you have any idea how much blood he lost? He died in that despair, and even in his final moments, he still loved you.”
Of course, Shen Yan was making all of this up. He only remembered that when he transmigrated into this body, his forehead throbbed with pain. He recalled from the original story that Duan Yang’s favorite method of abuse was smashing the protagonist’s head against furniture.
As for whether the original Shen Yan had actually died, Shen Yan wasn’t certain. Judging by the pain in his forehead when he arrived, it seemed unlikely, but who could say for sure?
What Shen Yan had noticed, however, was Duan Yang’s inexplicable obsession with the original Shen Yan’s diaries and his apparent lingering feelings for the original owner of the body.
So Shen Yan deliberately spun this tale, aiming to evoke guilt in Duan Yang—or at the very least, to confuse his already unhinged mind long enough to buy some time.
Sure enough, Duan Yang looked utterly dazed.
Lately, Duan Yang’s life had taken a sharp downward spiral. Once someone who was admired and respected wherever he went, he had become a public enemy, hated and hunted, and was even sentenced to prison time. His mental state was teetering on the brink of collapse.
Shen Yan’s words echoed in his mind, dredging up vivid memories of the night he had indeed grabbed the original Shen Yan’s hair and slammed his head against the table.
He could still recall the original Shen Yan crying and begging him to stop. But the more he pleaded, the more annoyed Duan Yang became. He had kicked him twice and tossed him aside like garbage before slamming the door as he left.
Yes, something had changed.
He remembered it clearly now. Even after all that, the original Shen Yan still looked at him with love in his eyes.
But the next day, when Shen Yan approached him to demand a divorce, his gaze was entirely different—emotionless, laced with disdain and disgust, just like the one staring at him now.
Was it possible? Had he really died?
“You’re lying!” Duan Yang shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. “You’re just trying to deceive me, to make me regret everything! Dream on! If Shen Yan is dead, then who the hell are you? You’re just making excuses for cheating on me. You’re a shameless slut who betrayed me and is now trying to trick me!”
Shen Yan sighed inwardly but kept his composure. “Who I am doesn’t matter. Deep down, you know I’m not the Shen Yan who loved you. If he were still alive, even now, when the whole world has turned its back on you, he wouldn’t. He loved you more than you love yourself. He would never have betrayed you. Duan Yang, you killed the one person who loved you the most in this world with your own hands!”
Duan Yang froze, his body trembling. He clutched his head, shaking it violently as if trying to rid himself of Shen Yan’s words. “You’re lying. You’re lying. You’re lying…” he muttered repeatedly before suddenly letting out a scream and bolting out of the room like a madman.
hi, i believe the first half of this chapter has been replaced with the latter half of the last chapter and something is missing…? in any case tysm for the translation 🫶🏼