Chapter 136 The Fool's Bride for Good Luck 11

Having experienced so many worlds, Xie Rong has become quite adept at controlling the hatred in his heart.

Sometimes, when he takes too much pleasure in tormenting the protagonist, he begins to miss his obedient puppy from the past, and his hostility gradually softens.

How could he not hate, how could he be reconciled, how could he betray the self who had suffered so much humiliation in the past!

The temporarily quelled hatred surged like a raging sea, a hundred times stronger than before.

Xie Rong pushed away the servant who came forward to help him and stood up unsteadily.

Summer nights are often filled with thunder, which suddenly boomed in the courtyard, illuminating his pale little face.

A strong wind, mixed with rain, rushed in through the doors and windows, ruffling his long, dark hair and obscuring his face.

"Wife...?" Just as the idiot approached, Xie Rong, amidst the screams of the crowd, plunged the dagger in her hand into Lu Chuan's chest.

Blood splattered on his face, like blooming red plum blossoms.

"Why weren't you the one who drowned? Why weren't you the one whose hands and head were severed?" Xie Rong's gaze was gloomy as he met the idiot's blank eyes. "What good is there for an idiot like you to live?!"

When Zhao Tongguang arrived, his wife, who was always fond of being pretty and delicate, was sitting on the man's waist, her hands tightly gripping his neck, muttering to herself. There was a dagger stuck in the man's chest, and he looked to be in critical condition.

"Pull Madam away!" Zhao Tongguang walked over, checked Lu Chuan's breathing, and breathed a sigh of relief without making a sound. "Go call the doctor."

The maid left in a hurry.

Zhao Tongguang glanced around at the remaining servants in the room. "What happened tonight was just the wife and husband joking around. You may all leave."

Only Zhao Tongguang, Xie Rong, and Lu Chuan, who seemed to be unconscious, remained in the room.

Zhao Tongguang bent down, picked up Xie Rong, and carried her to the bed.

The person in his arms was very light, like a feather gently resting on his arm.

"Zhao Tongguang".

Zhao Tongguang stopped in his tracks and looked down at the person in his arms.

Outside, the rain poured down, and millions of water droplets haphazardly pelted people's hearts, creating chaos.

Xie Rong's smooth face was illuminated by the dim candlelight, revealing fine, soft downy hairs. His heterochromatic pupils moved slowly like a puppet until they met each other's eyes, at which point he slowly curled his lips into a smile.

Do you... like me?

Another thunderclap boomed down, causing the candlelight in the room to flicker and then go out abruptly.

Zhao Tongguang placed him on the bed, took out a handkerchief from his sleeve, and wiped the blood from his face.

"Help me think of a way to get rid of him without anyone noticing," Xie Rong took the opportunity to wrap her arms around his neck, tilt her head back, and kiss the man's clean-shaven chin. The night concealed all the malice and resentment in his eyes, only his breath was fragrant. "I'll be with you then."

The man remained expressionless, completely unmoved, even his tone was indifferent:

"Madam, I don't want to die so young."

Xie Rong's kiss traveled down the man's chin, landing on his prominent Adam's apple. "What, do you also think this house is haunted? Or... are you afraid that if things come to light, you'll be drowned in a pig cage? The Lu family only has one idiot left. Who knows, the city gates of Lizhou might be breached tomorrow, and the foreigners will invade. Who cares about anything else then?"

Xie Rong leaned against the man's chest, her eyes gradually becoming hazy.

He's been thoroughly tamed, made taciturn by a fool, and he'll slowly open his legs as long as a man is willing to kneel down and lick him.

Zhao Tongguang remained silent.

Xie Rong sneered inwardly, even feeling a bit disgusted. These despicable men just loved to put on airs! Of course, he didn't think Zhao Tongguang liked him. Not to mention Zhao Tongguang, even he himself felt disgusted saying it. But that's how men are when they act like jerks; if he wasn't happy, these people wouldn't be clean either.

He took Zhao Tongguang's hand and groped in the darkness, guiding the man's hand to lift the loose hem of his pajamas and press his burning palm against his waist.

The hand on her waist suddenly squeezed hard, and Xie Rong let out a soft cry, leaning softly against Zhao Tongguang's arm.

"Does your wife act this way because she likes me, or because she hates him and wants revenge?"

Xie Rong pursed his lips darkly and slapped Zhao Tongguang across the face. "Get out."

Zhao Tongguang was thrown to the side, but he turned his face back as usual, and walked out of the house.

A moment later, the maid led Zhao Wenhong in.

Lu Chuan was lucky to survive; the dagger stuck in his chest was exactly one centimeter away from his heart.

Zhao Wenhong did not move Lu Chuan immediately, but squatted down to treat his wounds.

Half an hour later.

Zhao Wenhong got up and, together with the servants, moved the person to the chaise longue where Xie Rong often sat.

He wrote down two more prescriptions for recuperating and handed them to the servant before turning to look at the bed.

A slender figure sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against the bed frame with her head tilted as if boneless. Her black hair cascaded down her back, and her small, pale face was staring intently at Zhao Wenhong.

With a gentle expression, Zhao Wenhong walked over and took his wrist, which looked as if it could break at any moment, to check his pulse.

"Did you have a nightmare?" he asked gently, with the patience of a doctor asking a patient about their condition.

Xie Rong withdrew his wrist and said coldly, "Is there any need to ask?"

“I just wrote down two prescriptions, one for Mr. Lu to recover from his injury, and one for you,” Zhao Wenhong said, glancing down at his bare feet.

The snow-white toes were covered in a grayish tinge and stained with blood.

Zhao Wenhong was about to search his pockets for a handkerchief when Xie Rong tossed one into his arms.

It was the very line that Zhao Tongguang had just dropped.

Zhao Wenhong picked up the handkerchief and examined it. It had no pattern and only a faint fragrance. "This doesn't seem to be Madam's handkerchief."

“Of course, I wouldn’t use such cheap stuff,” Xie Rong looked down at him and suddenly smiled. “It was left behind by your brother.”

He was just in my bed.

Zhao Wenhong sighed helplessly, "Madam, I don't have a brother."

Xie Rong gave another cold laugh, displaying an arrogant attitude of "I don't care, what I say goes".

The maid thoughtfully prepared a basin of hot water and glanced timidly at Xie Rong, saying, "Madam, your feet are dusty; you need to wipe them clean."

“I’ll do it,” Zhao Wenhong said, taking the towel from the maid’s hand with remarkable ease.

"You learned all this serving skills while you were abroad?" Xie Rong lifted her toes slightly so the man could wipe her clean more thoroughly.

Zhao Wenhong had been used to tolerating his bad temper since childhood, and just smiled when she heard him say that.

"When will he wake up?" Xie Rong asked.

Zhao Wenhong said, "The knife wound to the chest caught me completely off guard; I'm afraid it will take some time to heal."

Xie Rong turned to the servant and said, "Throw all his things into the west wing. He can live there from now on, so he won't bother me while he's recovering from his injury."

The servant responded.

Zhao Wenhong lowered her eyes and wiped his other foot.

...

The next morning, Zhao Tongguang came in with a stack of account books to help him check the accounts for the month, as if nothing had happened the night before.

Xie Rong didn't necessarily want him to have an affair; she simply pretended he didn't exist.

He chewed on his pen, his eyes darting around. Lizhou was so big, he refused to believe he couldn't find a man who would dare to have an affair with him.