Chapter 128 Crisis of Trust
"Bang--!"
The loud noise of the door panel hitting the door frame was like a buzzing sound in Zhao Chen's ears, and it froze his hand that was about to hand over his salary card in mid-air, his fingertips feeling cold.
The wind from the door swept across his fingertips. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his pupils constricted. Pain, urgency, and a sense of absurdity as if the door had hit him directly in the face were all frozen on his face.
Through the solid wooden door panel that was a finger thick, Yu Ling's breathing was rapid and heavy, filled with overwhelming anger and despair, chiseling his eardrums again and again.
He was like a fool under a spell, clutching the salary card with the silly Shiba Inu printed on it. The thin plastic sheet was now as hot as a red-hot iron, and his palms were burning with pain.
A few seconds seemed as long as several lifetimes.
Zhao Chen finally moved, and withdrew his hand extremely slowly, his knuckles turning white from the force, and the poor salary card was deformed in his palm.
He looked down and saw the pair of house slippers on his feet that were stained with dried egg stains. When he looked up again, he saw the cold and heavy door that separated him from the whole world.
A surge of magma-like rage and powerlessness surged through his chest! His target wasn't the wife behind the door, but the venomous snake hiding in the shadows, injecting venom into their lives time and time again!
Gu Qianqian!
Just wait for me, damn!
He suddenly raised his hand, not to smash the door, but to punch the entrance cabinet inlaid with cold metal lines next to him!
"Bang!" A muffled sound! The expensive solid wood cabinet didn't move at all, but the sharp pain from his finger bones instantly cleared his confused mind.
Can't be chaotic.
Lingling is behind the door.
She needs time.
He... needs more time.
He took a deep breath and swallowed back the roar and explanation that rushed to his throat. Explanation? Absolutely not now!
That forged "bankruptcy document" was mixed with "bait" he had deliberately thrown out to catch bigger fish. It was part of his overall plan. Revealing it now would not only alert the enemy, but he might even lose his pants.
He loved her, loved her to death. More than anyone else, he wanted to tear up those cold figures immediately and tell her that what he owned was not debt, but a business empire that could overturn the entire industry.
But he can't.
Protecting her, keeping this marriage he had painstakingly secured, was a thousand times more important than a momentary explanation. Even if... the price was her current heartbreak.
He took another breath, trying to keep his voice flat, and spoke to the cold door with a deliberately forced, soothing hoarseness:
"Lingling..." her voice was as light as a feather, "...I put my salary card under the carpet at the door."
He paused and squeezed out the words with difficulty: "The password... is the date you first came here. The money in it... is not much, but... the interest... you take it first." The word "interest" was like a blunt knife cutting flesh.
There was a dead silence inside the door, with only the suppressed, bloody breathing that seemed to be getting more urgent.
Zhao Chen's heart sank, sinking into an icy hole. He closed his eyes, his eyelashes behind his gold-rimmed glasses casting a small shadow beneath his eyes. When he spoke again, his voice was as low as a mosquito's hum, revealing a humility that even he found ridiculous:
"Sofa... Can I sleep on the sofa?" He asked cautiously, each word seemed to be forced out of his throat, "Just... just one night. It's raining outside." This excuse was so poor that he wanted to slap himself in the face.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, the night sky of Haicheng was so clean that it could be used as a mirror, dotted with stars and without a trace of wind.
What responded to him was still the deathly silence from inside the door, and the increasingly louder breathing like a bellows.
Zhao Chen's shoulders slumped, his forehead resting against the cold, hard door. Through the wood, he could almost feel the scorching heat of Yu Ling's body, simmering with anger. It burned him, yet also chilled him.
He stood at the door like an abandoned stone statue. Time crawled by second by second, and each second felt as long as a fucking year.
I don’t know how long it took, but the deadly breathing inside the door seemed to calm down a little, but it was still icy and dead silent.
Zhao Chen slowly stood up. He knew that this door would not be opened for him tonight.
He took one last deep look at the tightly closed door, his eyes so complicated that they could wring water out of it, and then he turned around very slowly and silently.
Just as he turned around!
“Click.”
A sound of metallic collision, almost inaudible, slipped out from under his feet.
Zhao Chen's movements suddenly stopped! He lowered his head.
The book "The Art of Omelette from a Michelin Three-Star Chef" that he subconsciously took out and wanted to use as "collateral" to increase his pitiful persuasiveness, somehow slipped out a corner and got stuck right in the gap between the heavy solid wooden door panel and the threshold, which was not much wider than a hair!
The stiff spine of the hardcover book, like a stubborn wedge, forced open a crack in the door that was originally tightly closed and isolated from everything... a thin gap of less than half a centimeter!
A ray of light, so faint that it was almost invisible but extremely warm, sneaked out from that crack!
Zhao Chen's pupils suddenly shrank to the size of needles! He stared at the crack, at the glimmer of light, his heart as if being gripped tightly by an invisible hand, and then suddenly released!
Lingling...
This door...she didn't close it tightly!
This thought, like a weak electric current, instantly split the frozen despair in his heart with a "sizzle"! The huge ecstasy mixed with unspeakable sorrow washed over him from head to toe like a tsunami!
He held his breath instantly, his body stiff as a piece of wood, not daring to move, for fear that if he took a deep breath, the pitiful gap of light would disappear.
He bent down carefully, as slowly as in a slow motion movie, stretched out his fingers that were trembling slightly with nervousness, and gently, as gently as possible... touched the book stuck in the crack of the door.
The pages were cold and hard.
The light that leaked through the crack in the door fell warmly on his slightly cold fingertips.
He maintained this awkward half-squatting posture, as if guarding some rare treasure, and did not move for a long time.
Time slipped away stealthily in the gap between this silence and that glimmer of light.
Inside the door.
Yu Ling pressed her back against the cold, hard door, her body still trembling slightly from the furious slamming of the door. She closed her eyes, her chest heaving violently, trying to suppress the raging rage within and the subtle, intense pain she would never admit.
Zhao Chen's humble and choked voice, "Lingling, bankruptcy is fake... but my love for you... is real...", was like an elusive magic sound that played over and over in her mind.
Fake?
Is love real?
The immense irony made her chest suffocate, and she nearly sneered! Liars! They were all liars! Gu Qianqian was one! Zhao Chen… even more so! One was threatening her with fake bankruptcy documents, while the other was pretending to be poor and a clerk from beginning to end to trick her!
The most hateful thing is that now he is too lazy to even explain and is still lying! She is completely disappointed. It was just an act, but now? This play can't go on. She is really angry!
She opened her eyes angrily, and her gaze swept across the empty and cold living room like a knife, which was as luxurious as a model room but had no atmosphere.
Those expensive sofas and top-notch furnishings now became huge ironic symbols in her eyes, slapping her in the face and mocking her for being a complete naiveté!
A familiar stomachache suddenly struck her, reminding her that she hadn't even had a sip of water since she opened her eyes. Hunger and anger mixed together, making her so irritable that she wanted to tear down the house.
Just then—
“Gurgle…”
A loud sound, no different from thunder in the dead silent living room, rolled out of her stomach arrogantly.
Yu Ling's face flushed red! She was so embarrassed that she wanted to dig a hole and bury herself right there! Damn her stomach! Damn her hunger! And it had to be this time!
She turned around irritably, wanting only to rush into the kitchen and grab something to fill her embarrassing stomach so as to avoid sulking here.
However, the moment she turned her head!
An extremely overbearing and aggressive aroma, mixed with the alluring burnt aroma of premium butter and the iconic, priceless fragrance of black truffles, came straight at her from the direction of the kitchen!
This fragrance! It's so strong and indissoluble! It's so ripe!
It was cooked exactly like the fried egg Zhao Chen had brought her that morning, which she had so "dignified and cool" rejected! Even more damn arrogant!
Yu Ling's feet seemed to be glued to the spot by strong glue! They were frozen in place instantly!
Her body was working ten thousand times faster than her brain! The moment her stomach took in the overwhelming aroma, it let out an even louder, eager "gurgle"! Her saliva began to flow uncontrollably in her mouth!
This bastard!
He actually has the nerve to fry eggs in the kitchen?!
A surge of evil fire shot up Yu Ling's head! Like a cat with its tail stepped on, she turned around with a murderous aura and rushed straight into the kitchen!
Bankrupt? Debt-ridden? Desperate?
So where does he get the money to buy these black truffles, which are worth more than gold?! And where does he find the leisure to stay up late at night to perform his "Michelin fried egg performance art"?!
Liar! A complete and utter liar!
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