Chapter 91: Dominance (Part 1)

Nan Zhi still gripped a wooden stick in her hand, as if ready to launch an attack at any moment. Mu Sihan stood before her, his handsome face dark and cold, those fathomless black eyes fixed relentlessly on her pale little face—as if he intended to devour her whole.

Despite her stuffy nose from the cold, Nan Zhi could smell the heavy scent of alcohol on Mu Sihan. After a few seconds, he kicked the door shut behind him and approached her step by step, exuding a dangerous, aggressive energy.

Nan Zhi's hands tightened around the stick, glaring at him defensively. "Young Master Mu, what do you want?"

Mu Sihan's eyes were bloodshot, like an enraged beast, his voice chilling. "What do you think I want?"

Nan Zhi raised the stick at him. "If you try anything, don’t blame me for not being polite."

He looked at her with disdain. "With that frail little body of yours, can you really handle the consequences of attacking me?"

Nan Zhi had no idea what was wrong with him, but her intuition screamed danger. "Young Master Mu, I'm not feeling well tonight; I don’t have the energy to brew you sobering tea. You’d better head home."

He stared at her, his thin lips curling into a wicked, icy smile. "You think I’ll just leave because you said so? Why should I listen to you?"

Nan Zhi’s delicate brows knitted tightly as he closed in on her again. She raised the wooden stick, but the fever had left her weak and spent. After barely two moves, his large hand seized the stick and, with a forceful motion, flung it into the corner.

She had studied taekwondo abroad and could easily handle ordinary people, but compared to him she was woefully outmatched. Within moments, her wrists were trapped firmly in his grip, his black eyes locked onto hers, a wildness threatening to break loose.

Nan Zhi couldn’t fathom what was wrong with him, or what nerve he’d snapped. He hadn’t sought her out these past few days, and they’d returned to being strangers. Why, then, had he suddenly appeared in the middle of the night?

"Young Master Mu, what do you want? Are you troubled by work or upset in love? You’ve had too much to drink—let me call your assistant to pick you up, all right?"

She kept telling herself not to provoke him further in this state—otherwise, it was entirely possible he might kill her.

Mu Sihan’s eyes were bloodshot, his lips curled in a sinister smile. "Why did I come? Ha—came for you."

Nan Zhi’s eyes widened instantly. Hearing such words would enrage anyone, let alone someone of her temperament. "Are you insane?"

They had only met a handful of times, with no feelings between them—she actually disliked him. How could he say something so shameless?

Mu Sihan pressed closer, his expression dark, his hand gripping her chin so she couldn’t escape, his lips curling in a bloodthirsty, flirtatious manner. "Why pretend to be so pure before me? Your son is already so big—must have slept with plenty of men, haven’t you?"

Nan Zhi’s pupils contracted violently. Was he here in the dead of night just to humiliate her?

Fury surged in Nan Zhi’s chest, her eyes reddened as she glared at him. "Get away from me!"

Before she could finish speaking, her slender body was lifted off the ground. He ignored her blows and curses, striding with his long legs toward the bedroom, carrying her like a prize.

Nan Zhi was gripped by terror and panic, the same fear that had nearly suffocated her the last time he had almost strangled her. It swept over her again like a tide.

He threw her roughly onto the bed. As she struggled to get up, he found a silk scarf, pinned her hands above her head, and tied them tightly.