Volume One, Chapter 13: Scoundrels and Villains

Song Feiqing cheerfully approached, only to be knocked to the ground by a punch from Fu Heng.

Fu Heng grabbed his collar with one hand and yanked him up from the floor.

Song Feiqing’s eyes were wide open, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, looking utterly disheveled.

“Are you crazy? Why did you hit me?”

The man’s dark pupils seemed laced with ice, his sharp gaze like a barbed hook, as if ready to tear him apart on the spot.

“Did you say that I want a divorce from Xuanxuan?”

Song Feiqing was taken aback.

He never imagined Fu Heng would be so furious over a casual remark.

He sneered, “Was I wrong to say that? You brought Shen Wen home, clearly showing you don’t care about Bai Xuanxuan!”

“Isn’t what you’re doing the same as loudly announcing you want a divorce?”

Having been punched for no reason, Song Feiqing’s temper flared. He yelled hoarsely, “Don’t pretend to be a sanctimonious hypocrite! Does a friend’s wife get treated like this by you?”

“No one would believe you have no other intentions towards Shen Wen with how you act!”

“You just don’t love her anymore and want to force Bai Xuanxuan away, right?”

“I can’t stand this about you. If you have the guts, say it like a man! Stop messing with things that can’t be spoken openly!”

Fu Heng raised his fist high.

Then, after a long moment, as if drained of all strength, it slowly fell.

Song Feiqing’s words were like a sharp ice blade, completely shattering all his pretenses.

He had been too arrogant.

So arrogant that he believed Bai Xuanxuan loved him deeply; no matter how much he neglected her, no matter when he turned back, she would stand firmly waiting for him.

Until she was taken by villains and vanished completely from his world.

He left Song Feiqing behind and took a train back to Jiangcheng overnight.

Upon entering the house, there was none of the usual warmth of burning firewood, no trace of life.

Even the faint scent of snow cream had vanished completely.

The blanket on the bed was half unfolded.

Thinking of her being startled awake halfway through the night by the intruding man, his heart ached painfully.

She must have been terrified, crying endlessly, probably only in thin sleepwear, forcibly taken away just like that.

The string of hope inside him snapped tightly; perhaps he already knew the truth.

But without seeing her body, he refused to believe she was gone.

He carefully searched through the house; her scissors, small knives, and sewing needles were all missing.

And her coat—she had worn it when she left.

She might have struggled with the intruder, perhaps she wasn’t dead.

That faint hope was like a candlelight rekindling his dead heart.

He picked up the scarf wrapped around the thermos, his knuckles whitening as he clenched it.

Xuanxuan was actually very clever; maybe she was fine, only escaped to some remote place.

Somewhere without phone service, which explained why she didn’t call him, didn’t ask for help.

He held the scarf close.

Every night, Xuanxuan hugged the hot water bottle to sleep; it still carried her faint scent.

The man placed it near his lips, as if just by smelling it, his fraying nerves could find some relief.

As if Xuanxuan hadn’t left, still right there beside him.

He wrapped the scarf repeatedly around his neck, summoned the driver, and headed to the local police station.

The police chief, Chen Wenhao, was overwhelmed with work when suddenly a pale face appeared, causing his eyelids to twitch involuntarily.

He thought, "Where did this madman come from? Such an intimidating presence, looks like he could pull out a knife and start slaughtering at any moment."

Upon hearing it was Fu Heng, Bai Xuanxuan’s husband, he immediately stood up.

Fu Heng’s family background in the capital was powerful, not someone a small-town cop like him could afford to offend.

Remembering how he had argued with Fu Heng the previous night, his face flushed slightly as he offered some polite words.

But Fu Heng had already forgotten everything Chen Wenhao said.

All he wanted to know now was what had been discovered and where Bai Xuanxuan had gone.

His voice was flat and emotionless, but his bloodshot eyes and trembling fingers gave the impression he might turn into a terrifying beast at any moment, tearing everything he saw to pieces.

Chen Wenhao listened attentively and shared the latest findings.

“We’ve checked all the compounds; no one reported missing anything. That group definitely targeted her.”

“But according to our investigation, Bai Xuanxuan is usually quiet, doesn’t offend anyone, and has no known enemies.”

“However, neighbors reported that half a month ago, she beat a man named Xue Junping until he was bleeding badly; many people know about this.”

Chen Wenhao glanced subtly at Fu Heng.

Indeed, it seemed everyone knew except her own husband.

Fu Heng caught the look and understood what it meant. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but realized any explanation would sound hollow.

He had paid too little attention to Bai Xuanxuan!

How could she have just gone and hit a thug without reason? She must have been bullied first.

Even a cornered rabbit will bite.

Thinking of Xuanxuan, so gentle and timid, yet forced to fight off a villain, while he, as her husband, neither protected her nor even knew about it.

He refused to admit it, but had to accept he was a scoundrel.

A scoundrel so despicable that Bai Xuanxuan no longer trusted him enough to confide her grievances.

His fingertips dug into his palm, his gaze cold enough to kill.

Biting his teeth, he said, “And then?”

Chen Wenhao stepped back a little.

“We brought him in for questioning. He flatly denied any involvement, claiming it was nonsense. Bai Xuanxuan is only 1.6 meters tall, while he’s 1.65. How could she have fought him?”

“So, with no motive and no evidence, we had to let him go.”

The man’s voice was deep: “Bring him here again. I have some questions for him.”

Xue Junping was escorted in by two officers. Seeing Fu Heng sitting on a stool waiting, his legs nearly gave out and he almost fell to his knees.

Chen Wenhao could tell the matter was definitely linked to Xue Junping.

His guilt was practically written all over his face.

Xue Junping stammered, “I’m not guilty, I’m just scared of you guys.”

“What’s wrong? Are you going to force a confession?”

Seeing the man stand and slowly approach him, Xue Junping trembled uncontrollably, “W-what do you want? You’re servants of the people, here to serve the people, you know that?”

Fu Heng grabbed his neck with one hand, his rolled-up sleeve revealing a strong arm.

Veins bulged.

He pulled out a hair tie found in Xue Junping’s room: “Did you confess, or did you only admit it after being beaten half to death?”

The hair tie had a small bead, a very rare style.

Xue Junping lowered his head for a long while before finally whispering, “If I tell you, will you let me go?”