Chapter 39: Vengeance and Retribution

Du Huacheng’s aged, domineering eyes widened to perfect circles, staring at Zhong Xiao in utter disbelief. Slowly, he turned his head, his gaze sharp and bloodshot as he fixed his eyes on Yang Yuehe. His teeth seemed to chatter.

“Yang… Yang Yuehe, is what she said true?”

Yang Yuehe’s face was pale as snow. Though she looked at Du Huacheng, her body involuntarily retreated a step. In that instant, Du Huacheng understood everything.

He let out a desperate, guttural roar and tried to rush forward to strike. The two men holding him nearly lost their grip as he struggled violently; they pinned his arms down, pressing him into submission, shouting angrily,

“Du Huacheng, stay still!”

But Du Huacheng was beyond reason. The thing he hated most in his life was the betrayal of a woman.

When he married Zhong Rui, she was already pregnant with Zhong Xiao. Using her pregnancy as an excuse, Zhong Rui refused to share a bed with him. Later, Zhong Rui died in childbirth. Du Huacheng, in effect, had never touched her.

The humiliation wounded his pride as a man, making him susceptible to Yang Yuehe’s seduction. She was the first woman he ever had.

He remembered distinctly—Yang Yuehe herself had said Du Huacheng was her first man. So he married her, and they had Du Ying’er, followed by Du Changgong and Du Changlin.

But now…

Du Ying’er was not his daughter?

Du Huacheng was nearly consumed by rage, on the brink of losing all reason.

A voice rang out nearby, equally incredulous—Du Ying’er.

Du Ying’er had always been the calmest of them. Even when confronted by Zhong Xiao, she was the only one who hadn’t pleaded for help. She hated Zhong Xiao so much that, even facing death, she would never beg; she simply watched coldly.

But now, hearing Zhong Xiao’s words, Du Ying’er was stunned, dumbfounded, looking at Yang Yuehe.

Instinctively, she uttered the secret she’d kept buried for over a decade.

“Mom… what do you mean? Didn’t you say only Changgong and Changlin weren’t Dad’s children? How… how am I not his child as well?”

Du Huacheng froze.

His mind flooded, and he nearly stumbled, staggering sideways, his whole body trembling, his face alternating between red and pale.

What was Du Ying’er saying?

Changlin and Changgong… his two sons, the very heart of his life, the children he had cherished for so many years.

To send them to school, Du Huacheng had begged more than a dozen people. Since marrying into the Zhong family, he’d never once bowed to anyone; only others came to him for favors. Yet for his sons, he humbled himself, just to give them a future, an education.

But those two sons… were not his?

Zhong Xiao was not his child, Du Ying’er was not his child, and now, even his treasured sons—

With a sudden “spurt,” Du Huacheng vomited blood.

He crumpled to his knees, his face flushed, body rigid, head jerking uncontrollably.

The bystanders, who had watched the spectacle, now felt a pang of sympathy for Du Huacheng.

“This man’s life is tragic…”

“So none of the children are his?”

“My God, it’s like ancestral luck gone mad.”

“This… this man is pitiful…”

Du Huacheng heard every word clearly.

He felt all the blood in his body surge to his head, his limbs cold and stiff, completely losing the ability to move. Only his eyes, terrifyingly red, stayed locked on Yang Yuehe; his fists clenched tight.

Veins bulged on Du Huacheng’s forehead, his gaze as if he could tear Yang Yuehe in half.

Yang Yuehe glanced around in panic; every eye around her brimmed with contempt and scorn.

She looked back at Du Huacheng, whose eyes blazed with fury and murderous intent.

Yang Yuehe finally broke down, letting out a mad laugh.

“Is this my fault? How is this my fault? You’re nothing but a useless man sitting on your laurels!”

“You can’t have children, do you know that? There’s not a single living thing in your so-called manhood! You’re not a man, you’re not normal!”

“I went to hospitals several times; the doctors said you simply can’t father children! Du Huacheng, did you hear me? You can’t! You’ll never have a child of your own in your life!”

“You damn well deserve to be childless, cursed to have no descendants!”

“If I hadn’t thought of you, gone out to find someone to give you three heirs, you’d be a complete laughingstock!”

Du Huacheng roared, breaking free from the two holding him, charging madly forward and grabbing Yang Yuehe by the throat.

Yang Yuehe, face twisted in terror, backed away; the two edged closer to the platform’s edge.

Chaos erupted; the crowd screamed as Du Huacheng and Yang Yuehe both tumbled onto the tracks.

In the distance came a thunderous roar. The crowd shrieked in horror.

The guards watching Du Huacheng and Yang Yuehe on the tracks wanted to pull them up, but seeing the train speeding toward them, no one dared.

Du Huacheng was beyond saving—no one could restrain him now.

At that moment, saving them was impossible; anyone trying would be pulled under the train themselves.

There was no time left to think.

A rumbling roar sliced through the air.

The train, relentless, rolled closer, iron wheels grinding along the tracks.

With a screech, both Du Huacheng and Yang Yuehe died instantly, perishing beneath the steel wheels.

Even their agonized screams were drowned out by the thunder and friction of the train, their deaths silent and swift.

Yet their bodies, torn apart, kept spilling blood and flesh onto the rails.

The once-clean platform was now smeared with dark, crimson blood.

The crowd scattered in panic, fleeing with screams.

Zhou Yongxin sat in stunned silence on the ground, his pants between his legs soaked with some unknown liquid, looking utterly pathetic and ridiculous.

Du Ying’er stood numbly among the crowd, a stark contrast to the frantic escape around her.

She looked at Zhong Xiao, fists clenched, howling,

“Zhong Xiao! Are you satisfied now? Are you satisfied now? You killed both Dad and Mom!”

“You devil! You monster… murder must be paid for! One day you’ll get what you deserve… Zhong Xiao, you’ll get your retribution!”

Zhong Xiao was utterly unafraid.

Arms crossed, her sharp gaze landed on Du Ying’er, and she laughed coldly.

“To be honest, I’m not very satisfied. To let them both die so quickly—what a pity.”

Hatred filled Du Ying’er’s eyes.

Zhong Xiao continued, “But you’re right about one thing: murder demands a price. So now, it’s your turn to pay.”

Du Ying’er couldn’t comprehend what Zhong Xiao was saying.

As she screamed madly, Zhong Xiao turned and left.

Du Ying’er watched as Zhong Xiao’s thin silhouette boarded the train, vanishing from sight.

Seated by the window, Zhong Xiao gazed at the crowd outside. The crowd.

She took a deep breath.

Farewell, Yue City.

Farewell, Zhong Xiao of my previous life.

—At last, I have avenged you.