Kong Wenyu woke from his nap. Still no reply.
He got up and knocked on the door. It didn’t open. Instead, a voice came through the two-way speaker: “Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?”
He tugged on the door. It didn’t budge.
He wasn’t desperate to break out—just stood there a few seconds, then knocked again with his knuckles. “How long are you planning to keep me in here?”
The voice outside sounded cautious, clearly afraid he might cause trouble. “Madam said… until after the Long family comes to visit.”
“What time are they coming?”
“Soon,” came the reply. “Would you like something to eat first?”
Kong Wenyu thought for a moment. “No rush. I’ll eat after they leave.”
The voice acknowledged him and went quiet. Kong Wenyu picked up his phone and tried calling Nie Jun.
No answer.
He looked out through the iron-grilled hospital window at the skyline of towering buildings. After a moment, he called Haiming instead.
Haiming did answer—but his tone immediately gave away that he’d done something sneaky and probably wasn’t proud of it.
“What’s going on?” Kong Wenyu asked.
Haiming paused. “…You called me, sir.”
Kong Wenyu didn’t respond.
After a few seconds, Haiming said carefully, “We’re almost there. Miss Long and the others are with us.”
As soon as he said that, Man Mingzhi’s voice rang out sharply from his end: “Haiming, unless you want to be running behind the car on one leg, quit sneaking around with him under my nose.”
Haiming instantly fell silent. A moment later, he muttered quickly, “We’ll talk in person.”
“Talk about what?” Man Mingzhi asked, watching him end the call. Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed slightly.
After rushing around all day, her makeup was still flawless, not a smudge out of place. There wasn’t a hint of fatigue in her expression or posture.
Under her gaze, Haiming lowered his head slightly.
“You’re the head of Kong Wenyu’s security detail, yet you claim to know nothing about his personal affairs? That’s either gross negligence or you’re trying to leak information behind my back.”
Haiming might argue when Kong Wenyu questioned him, but in front of Man Mingzhi, he didn’t dare say a word.
Any explanation would only be seen as excuse-making or trying to deflect responsibility.
Man Mingzhi’s expression didn’t change. “If you dare leak anything, you won’t be able to bear the consequences.”
The Long family arrived in the car behind, nearly at the same time.
Kong Wenyu was lying in bed playing with his phone.
The person guarding the door gave him a quiet heads-up. He tucked the phone away and looked up, waiting for the guests to come in.
First came Man Mingzhi. Their eyes met briefly before they both looked away. Then came Mr. and Mrs. Long, and finally Long Zhu.
“Uncle, Auntie—sorry to trouble you,” Kong Wenyu said, turning his head slightly and coughing twice.
Half-reclined on the hospital bed, with white pillows and bedsheets as a backdrop, his skin looked unusually pale—he genuinely looked a bit unwell.
Mr. Long rushed to reassure him. “Your health comes first—everything else can wait.”
Kong Wenyu nodded. He looked like he was about to speak again, but instead turned to the side and coughed.
“What did the doctors say?” Mr. Long asked.
Man Mingzhi retracted the sharp gaze she’d been using to pressure Kong Wenyu, gave a soft smile, and turned to him. “Acute angina—possibly hereditary.”
Mr. Long nodded with a grave, concerned expression.
Mrs. Long chimed in, “If we have questions, we’ll speak to the doctors outside. Let the two of them talk alone. Wenyu needs rest.”
“Good, good,” Mr. Long said, looking to Man Mingzhi. “Shall we?”
“Please,” Man Mingzhi said with a nod. Her assistant turned the wheelchair around, and the group made their way out of the room.
Only Long Zhu remained. She didn’t move closer until the others had fully left. Then she stepped nearer. “Are you okay, Wenyu?”
“I’m fine,” Kong Wenyu replied.
Long Zhu didn’t seem particularly affected by the broken engagement that morning. After all, this marriage was a calculated alliance, not a love match.
“So, is this considered a type of heart disease?” she asked, glancing around the room. “Will it affect your life expectancy?”
“No idea,” Kong Wenyu said. “I’m not a doctor.”
Long Zhu hesitated before saying, “It’s definitely hereditary, right? I just heard that—it’s a genetic thing.”
“Maybe,” he said simply.
Long Zhu noticed he was distracted. She studied him openly and asked, “You don’t want to marry me, do you?”
Kong Wenyu came back to himself, looked at her, and after a long pause, gave a faint smile. “Do you want to marry me?”
“Not exactly,” she replied. “My parents think your family is decent. You’re an only child, no complicated extended family. You’re pretty independent too, which would be good for future kids. And you’re not like those other rich brats, constantly cycling through girlfriends or keeping mistresses.”
“Would you be okay with an extramarital affair?” Kong Wenyu asked.
“…What?” Long Zhu froze and frowned. “What kind of affair?”
Kong Wenyu looked at her calmly.
Long Zhu stared at him for a long moment. “You’re seeing someone else?”
He didn’t answer, which was answer enough.
Long Zhu narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath. “My parents are backing you—they went public against Kong Lingru, helped you acquire shares, and made sure you had a foothold at the shareholder meeting. And you have the nerve to keep someone on the side?”
Kong Wenyu let out a sigh. “If this is a marriage of convenience, then the benefits go both ways. I bought up your family’s abandoned factories and sold them to the Ao family to ease your cash flow crisis. Don’t forget the domestic licensing rights to your brand…”
“Was it really sold to the Ao family,” Long Zhu interrupted coldly, “or was it a gift to Ao Qingqing? Are you still tangled up with her?”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she grabbed the half-full glass of water from the table and flung it at him.
Cold water streamed down from Kong Wenyu’s hair, dripping onto the pillow and soaking it, leaving dark, uneven blotches across the crisp white fabric.
Long Zhu turned to leave.
“Stop,” Kong Wenyu called out.
She ignored him completely. Her heels clicked sharply across the floor as she reached the door, never glancing back. With a loud bang, she slammed the door shut behind her.
Kong Wenyu sat up, pulled some tissues, and wiped the water off his face.
In the now-silent hospital room, he picked up his phone from the bedside and made one last call to Nie Jun.
Still no answer.
He lowered his damp lashes. When he opened his eyes again, his expression had gone cold. The moisture clinging to his lashes was like ink—heavy and dark.
The door burst open with a sharp clack.
Man Mingzhi stormed in, her anger practically crackling in the air. Her assistant barely managed to keep up, pushing the wheelchair in behind her.
Kong Wenyu got out of bed. He looked up through lowered lashes and asked plainly, “Where’s Nie Jun?”
Man Mingzhi’s chest heaved with restrained fury. Her gaze, sharp and narrow, locked onto him. She waved her hand curtly. “You, get out.”
The assistant hesitated a second before stepping out and shutting the door firmly behind them.
“You locked him up?” Kong Wenyu asked, voice low but steady. “You had no right to touch my people.”
“If it weren’t for me, do you think you’d still be lying safely in this hospital bed?” Man Mingzhi shot back. “He’s just a bodyguard. I can do whatever I want with him. Do you want to end up like Kong Lingru—turned into a laughingstock at every dinner table for a person like that? If you don’t care about your reputation, I do.”
Kong Wenyu swept his hand across the table, sending a glass flying. It shattered with a crash, fragments scattering across the floor.
“I asked you—where. Is. He?”
Man Mingzhi stared at him in disbelief. She opened her mouth, shut it again, and only after several false starts managed to speak. “You’re throwing things at me over a bodyguard?”
Kong Wenyu advanced on her. Wet bangs clung to his forehead, shadowing his expression. The sharp cut of his features, the slight upward tilt of his eyes, the weight of his stare—he looked like a man on the edge, one second away from losing control.
Man Mingzhi instinctively backed up two steps, gripping the armrest of the wheelchair behind her.
“That bodyguard,” she said coldly, steadying her voice, “has already been dealt with. And as for what you said to Long Zhu just now—I’ll take care of it. Stop being so reckless. Keeping a mistress is still considered ‘romantic’ as long as you show the proper remorse. Mr. Long is a reasonable man—he’ll understand.”
“If you so much as lay a finger on him…” Kong Wenyu’s eyes—so strikingly similar to hers—bored into her with a deadly calm, completely devoid of humor, “I will make you regret it.”
“You ungrateful brat,” Man Mingzhi snapped. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”
Her slap knocked his face to the side.
Kong Wenyu turned his head back slowly, completely unfazed.
“I’ve never laid a hand on you, not once, from the time you were little till now. Kong Wenyu, I’ve been far too indulgent with you.”
Man Mingzhi didn’t strike hard, but she used enough force that a red mark soon bloomed on his cheek.
Kong Wenyu, just soaked with water and now slapped across the face, actually let out a soft, low laugh at her words.
“If it helps you feel better, go ahead—hit me again.” He pushed his tongue against the inside of the injured spot. “But if you ever lay a hand on him, I swear I’ll make good on my word.”
Mother and son stared each other down, neither willing to back off in the slightest.
Then someone’s phone rang, shattering the charged silence and loosening the heavy, stifled air that had filled the room.
Man Mingzhi stared him down as she answered the call.
Kong Wenyu nudged the shattered glass at his feet with his toes, impatience all over his face. “Hurry up.”
She ended the call quickly and turned back to him.
For a brief moment, guilt flickered in her eyes when she noticed the red mark on his face. After a long silence, she finally seemed to cool down.
“Do you know why Kong Lingru ended up where she is? It’s not just because the child she had after marriage doesn’t carry the Kong name. It’s because that driver she married had no value, no background. The board saw that and dropped her, choosing to support you instead.”
Kong Wenyu looked irritated and turned his eyes to the window.
The rain from earlier had stopped, and the sky was clearing. A pale gray-blue canopy hung overhead, making the leaves on the treetops look piercingly green.
“You’re too young,” Man Mingzhi continued, “You don’t think about the consequences. That bodyguard? I had him checked out—his identity is fake. He’s done dangerous things. Maybe that excites you, or—”
“Where is he?” Kong Wenyu cut her off.
Man Mingzhi opened her mouth. “Do you have to speak to me like this?”
“The fact that I’m still standing here listening to you is me giving you face.” His gaze swung back to her. “What, do I have to blow up for you to actually hear me?”
She glanced at the shattered glass on the floor and gave a cold laugh. “I’ve seen your temper already.”
Kong Wenyu took a deep breath, shoulders dropping. Then, with no warning, he shoved the wheelchair aside—it toppled with a loud crash, scraping across the floor.
Someone knocked on the door from outside. “Do you need assistance?”
Man Mingzhi looked at him, stunned.
Kong Wenyu held her gaze, unwavering beneath her judgment and disappointment. Then he raised his voice: “I want to see him. Now.”
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