In the darkness, Xu Zhuohua could not see anything, but she felt Cheng Muyun suddenly break free from her embrace, and something wet and slippery slid out, leaving her with a sudden emptiness.
The moment Cheng Muyun's fingertips touched the cool, smooth fabric of the silk pajamas, his wrists tensed up instantly.
In the darkness, he deftly spread out the hem of his shirt and gently draped the gossamer-thin fabric over Xu Zhuohua's shoulders.
As his fingers flew across the keys, the pearl buttons were put back in place one by one like piano keys. When the last button was fastened around his neck, his Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily.
As the last button was fastened into the buttonhole, his palm was already pressed against the back of Xu Zhuohua's neck.
The scent of lavender enveloped him as he pulled her further into the fluffy down comforter, as if he were hiding a fragile antique.
With a "click," the emergency light suddenly turned on, and the black velvet curtains fell like a curtain, cutting through the gaps where the light was seeping in.
Cheng Muyun bent down and pulled the pants that were thrown on the carpet. The crisp sound of the metal zipper snapping shut mingled with his rapid breathing, and his eight-pack abs rippled like they were carved by a knife in the interplay of light and shadow.
He deftly picked up the pistol from the carpet with his right hand; wisps of white smoke were still rising from the barrel, and the hot, pungent smell of gunpowder lingered around his nose.
The fragments of the crystal chandelier reflected a cold light, and the shattered blue-and-white porcelain pieces resembled a pile of pale bones.
Cheng Yuguang strode forward through the mess, his military boots crunching on the broken tiles. The veins in his neck throbbed as he said, "Is this what you've done? Cheng Muyun, are you trying to tear the roof off? Shooting in your own home, do you have no respect for rules?"
In the shadows, Cheng Muyun leaned against the carved pillar, his long, slender, fair fingers slowly pulling the bolt of his gun.
The "click" of metal parts snapping together broke the silence, and everyone gasped in unison.
Cheng Yuguang's pupils contracted sharply, the brass buttons on his dark brown military uniform gleaming coldly, his gaze like a poisoned bayonet piercing his son: "You still want to shoot? Are you crazy?"
Cheng Muyun brandished his pistol, a sickly, flamboyant smile curving his lips, his dark eyes swirling with an almost manic laugh: "If you don't leave, I still have four bullets in my gun."
Cheng Yuguang, a tough guy who had spent most of his life in the military, a solid iron man who had never retreated even in the face of gunfire, was now being held at gunpoint by his own son.
The steely will forged by decades of military service now felt a strange, absurd, dull pain.
Cheng Yuguang's temples were bulging with veins, and his scarlet blood vessels were almost bursting out of his eyes. The anger rising around him was like a tangible flame, scorching the air and distorting it.
Those around instinctively stepped back, and no one dared to make a sound.
Cheng Yuguang pursed his lips, helped Luo Yunqiao up, pressed down on Luo Yunqiao's shoulder, and gently comforted him: "It's okay, Yunqiao, don't be afraid, Mu Yun won't shoot again."
His sharp gaze, like a searchlight, was fixed directly on Cheng Muyun, who stood holding a gun.
The overwhelming pressure honed by over twenty years of leading troops pressed down, causing even the air to tremble from this invisible aura.
In Cheng Yuguang's eyes, his son who holds a gun is still the same young boy who used to march in formation on the playground.
He absolutely refused to believe that this child, whom he had forced to practice shooting since childhood, would dare to pull the trigger in front of him.
However, we still have to give face to the Luo family. If Luo Yunqiao's experience reaches Chairman Luo's ears tonight, who knows what kind of trouble they might cause.
Compared to Luo Yunqiao, Xu Zhuohua's family had always looked down on the Cheng family, and even if they were wronged, they didn't dare to demand an explanation.
Therefore, Cheng Yuguang would rather provoke Cheng Muyun than let Luo Yunqiao lose face.
Cheng Yuguang's Adam's apple bobbed heavily, and the crisp sound of grinding against the porcelain shards carried suppressed anger: "Yunqiao, don't worry, you can send someone to kidnap this unfilial son, I won't say a word."
As soon as the words were spoken, the surrounding air seemed to be gripped by an invisible hand, and the servants subconsciously lowered their breathing, and suddenly there was a deathly silence.
Luo Yunqiao lowered his head and clutched the handkerchief embroidered with twin lotus flowers tightly, his knuckles turning white.
When she raised her face, tiny teardrops still clung to her eyelashes, her eyes, like shimmering autumn water, were veiled with moisture, and her sob trembled like a frightened fledgling: "Commander, I'm not a shrew, I won't kidnap Brother Mu Yun..."
She paused, gasping for breath, her tear-stained fingers twisting the hem of her skirt. "But Brother Mu Yun promised to come and keep me company tonight, so I'm here to demand an explanation."
Cheng Yuguang's temples throbbed.
Remembering that Chairman Luo controlled half of the merchants in the city, and that the gold bars that could fill the armory with ammunition, all turned into tears that were about to fall from Luo Yunqiao's face.
He took a deep breath, his hands clenched behind his back until his knuckles turned white, but his tone was unusually gentle: "It's Mu Yun who is being unreasonable."
He turned to Cheng Muyun and said, "Did you hear that? Muyun, Yunqiao just came to demand an explanation, why did you shoot?"
Cheng Muyun chuckled after hearing this, "Want an explanation? What kind of explanation?"
The carved bed creaked slightly the moment Cheng Muyun sat down, and the soft cushions embroidered with twin lotus flowers in gold thread sank deeply, making him appear even more aloof.
Xu Zhuohua curled up in the brocade quilt, only her small oval face showing, her hair scattered messily on the rouge-red pillow.
She saw the darkness in Cheng Muyun's eyes grow even deeper, and the curve of his lips resembled a venomous snake lurking in the shadows, seemingly nonchalant yet harboring a sharp edge.
His slender fingers ran through Xu Zhuohua's soft hair, the movement as gentle as if he were teasing a kitten, his deep voice carrying a seductive tone: "There's no explanation. I already said it wouldn't be today."
Luo Yunqiao's face, streaked with tears, was flushed with a sickly redness. "Why not today!" she cried, clutching a handkerchief soaked with tears, her voice nearly breaking. "Is it because Xu Zhuohua came back from Dongzhou today?"
This chapter is not finished, please click the next page to continue reading!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com