Chapter 15: Prepared in Advance
Zhao Baitong slept restlessly. When Xiao Zhe left, he had adjusted the hospital room to the most comfortable temperature, yet she still broke out in a sweat.
She opened her eyes to find someone wiping the sweat from her brow.
“Awake?”
Her body felt sticky. At first, she thought of Fang Zhixu’s fastidious nature—how he disliked the smell of sweat. But then she reminded herself they were no longer together; whether she was dirty or sweaty no longer mattered.
“That’s enough,” Zhao Baitong said, pulling away from his hand, signaling that he needn’t wipe her anymore.
“Avoiding me?”
She felt a pang of guilt. “Not avoiding.”
“So afraid to touch me?”
Zhao Baitong remained silent.
Fang Zhixu withdrew the handkerchief with a hint of irritation. “You’d rather throw yourself into the arms of a stranger than let me touch you once?”
Startled, she recalled how Fang Zhixu referred to her absurd behavior toward Xiao Zhe that morning. But how could she admit she had mistaken that person for him?
Fortunately, he softened, his gaze less accusatory. “Want something to eat? I’ll have Cheng Mu buy it.”
She didn’t want him to see the flicker of emotion in her eyes and licked her dry, cracked lips. “Just some plain water. I’m thirsty.”
Fang Zhixu stood to pour water for her. Only when his back was turned did she dare to lift her eyes and look at him for a few seconds.
His back was broad and solid. She remembered lying against it once—strong and steady like a heated iron, smoothing out her restless fears.
Zhao Baitong felt uneasy. She knew Jing Pei was dead. Deep down, she had been waiting, expecting the Jing family or the Meng family to come for her reckoning sooner or later.
So she waited, day after day, until three days later when she was discharged. No one came to trouble her, but she couldn’t shake the sense that this was only the calm before the storm.
In those three days, Fang Zhixu only came once, stayed less than ten minutes, then left. He seemed very busy, refusing to answer calls in her presence and only picking up once outside the ward.
What he was handling did not seem to be work-related.
On the day of her discharge, the first snow of the season fell in South City, dusting the ground in a thin white layer.
---
Zhao Baitong didn’t have much luggage, but due to the snowy weather and traffic jams, her ride was ten minutes late.
A stretched red Flag limousine stopped before her. The window slowly rolled down, and Fang Zhixu, gripping the steering wheel, looked at her. “Get in.”
She tightened her purse strap. “I’ve called a car. It’ll be here any minute.”
Fang Zhixu unbuckled his seatbelt, signaling he was getting out, his face tense and serious. “Get in.”
The cars behind honked more impatiently because the red Flag’s stop worsened the jam. Snowflakes thickened, obscuring their view of each other.
Reluctantly, Zhao Baitong opened the door and climbed inside.
The heater inside the car was strong; the snow on her knit hat quickly melted. Worried about infection to her wound, she took off the hat.
“Have you decided where to go?” Fang Zhixu handed her a tissue. His skin was pale, his usual calm and gentle demeanor melting when heated, but most often, he gave off an icy chill like an ancient glacier.
Zhao Baitong cautiously pinched the tissue, avoiding his hand.
He glanced at her lightly. “The apartment you live in needs repairs before you can move in. Doors and windows need replacing, and daily necessities must be repurchased. Didn’t you transfer the villa in Dongcheng District into your name? Stay there first.”
She canceled the car she had just called and said nothing.
“Nothing else to say?”
She truly didn’t want to talk much. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
For arranging her place to live, for personally coming to pick her up.
“I know what you’re thinking, Zhao Baitong. You’re angry that I’m controlling you, angry that I make decisions for you. You want to leave South City, to fly far away. Fine, I won’t stop you!”
Her eyes brightened, just as Fang Zhixu predicted.
“...But wait until after my wedding with Hua Meng. Before then, I want to keep tabs on you at all times.”
He made his terms clear. Zhao Baitong thought this was acceptable—just a couple of months. With Fang Zhixu’s power and influence, if he didn’t want her to leave, she couldn’t.
She hoped her application to join Mu Shian’s research team would go smoothly, then she would leave South City.
Fang Zhixu said no more on the way.
---
Several times, he checked the rearview mirror. A van had been following them steadily since the hospital entrance, sometimes slightly ahead, sometimes just behind.
As they entered the less populated eastern suburbs, Fang Zhixu grew more alert.
At a fork after the overpass, the van suddenly accelerated, cutting diagonally at a 45-degree angle in front of the Flag limousine, blocking their path.
Just as the Flag was about to collide with the van, Fang Zhixu slammed the brakes. Zhao Baitong, caught off guard, pitched forward, her forehead smashing hard against the window. Fang Zhixu’s quick reflex saved her, shielding her head.
A screwdriver in the glove compartment bounced out from the jolt. Its sharp tip scraped Fang Zhixu’s hand, and when Zhao Baitong realized, blood was dripping heavily from his hand.
Panicked, she pressed her fingers to his wound. “Is it serious?”
Fang Zhixu silently pulled her close, covering her eyes. He keenly noticed the van’s windshield was reinforced and the engine remained running—a clear defensive posture.
Because of the van’s angled block, it couldn’t overtake or strike a critical blow to the Flag. But if it reversed, it could smash the Flag’s hood, causing the fuel tank to catch fire.
Difficult to defend against, difficult to attack.
These people had come prepared.
They intended to cause an accident and then flee.
“Stay in the car. Do not get out.”
Fang Zhixu pulled her knit hat down to cover half her face.
“No matter what happens, don’t get out, don’t make a sound, and don’t call anyone. Wait until I get out and lock the doors, understand?”
Zhao Baitong’s heart raced. “Your hand...”
“A minor wound.”
“Who are they?”
“After me.”