Chapter Fifty-Two: Retribution

Chi Zhou never expected Su Wan would pull such a move.

“Fine, Su Wan, you’re something else. Just you wait!!” He glared at Su Wan fiercely, wanting to say more, but in the distance, the shrill wail of police sirens had already begun.

His expression shifted in an instant. He turned and urgently waved his lackeys to run.

Only after they had disappeared did Su Wan finally collapse, weak and trembling.

At that moment, Jiang Mochen was still shaking uncontrollably. Without thinking, Su Wan walked over and wrapped him in a tight embrace.

“Are you feeling any better?” she asked.

Jiang Mochen took a deep breath, turned his head away in embarrassment, and murmured, “You saw it again.”

Su Wan held him even closer. “Of course I did. We’re husband and wife, the closest people in each other’s lives. If I can’t see you like this, then who can?”

“But you want to divorce me.”

Su Wan sighed. “I’m afraid of dragging you down with me.”

“My grandfather’s illness will cost a fortune. I can’t abandon him.”

Jiang Mochen turned to look at her intently. “So, you’re going to abandon me instead.”

Su Wan met his gaze seriously. “I don’t want to abandon you. But I can’t let you be dragged into this abyss with me.”

She had spoken to the doctors: the tumor in the old man’s body hadn’t begun to deteriorate yet, but its location was perilous.

If they operated recklessly, there was an eighty percent chance of failure.

The doctor recommended conservative treatment, which meant the old man would have to stay in the hospital long-term for regular check-ups.

The cost was obvious.

Anyone else might have taken the risk, but Su Wan was from decades in the future. She knew that the high failure rate was due to the current limits of medical technology. If they could wait a few more years, his chances of survival would be much higher.

She’d done a rough calculation. She currently had thirty thousand yuan—just enough to cover half a year in the hospital, and that was if he wasn’t transferred or his condition didn’t worsen.

“Jiang Mochen, I love you. I want the best for you.” After a long pause, Su Wan could only say these words.

Jiang Mochen was stunned. He didn’t know when he’d stopped shaking—perhaps when Su Wan said she wouldn’t leave him, or perhaps when she said she loved him.

He clutched her hand tightly. “I want the best for you too.”

The next day, Su Wan went to the village as usual to check on the lipstick production. But as soon as she arrived, she saw that someone had splashed red paint all over the gate.

The iron gate had been pried open, and all the tools and raw materials inside had been smashed to pieces.

It was as if a bucket of icy water had been dumped over her head. Su Wan felt cold from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet.

She forced herself to pick up whatever could still be salvaged and then sat weakly on the threshold.

Months of hard work had gone up in smoke.

She still had several orders to fill. If she couldn’t deliver on time, she’d have to pay a penalty.

A rough calculation put the penalty at ten thousand yuan.

To her current self, it was a devastating blow.

Stunned, Su Wan picked up her brick-sized cell phone and called the police again, though she knew it wouldn’t help.

With lipstick sales on hold, Su Wan began to consider her next way of making money.

She had no choice. She couldn’t stop—if she did, there’d be no money for her grandfather’s treatment.

In despair, Su Wan buried her hands in her hair and pressed her forehead to her knees over and over.

Money, money, money.

She used to have so much of it—ten thousand yuan wasn’t even enough for her to tip a waiter at a karaoke bar.

Now she was waiting on ten thousand yuan to save a life.

“System,” she said in anguish, “this punishment is just too much.”

You could try collecting more embroidery, the system suggested timidly.

“Embroidery?” Su Wan lifted her head from her knees. “But I don’t know what kind of embroidery is actually valuable!”

Last time with Aunt Wang, she’d only gotten lucky because the fabric was so unique. There was no way she could be that lucky every time.

The system sighed. Haven’t you noticed the costumes in the west wing? They’re rather special too.

“Costumes? But those belong to Jiang Mochen!”

Just ask him if he still wants them, the system advised.

At this point, Su Wan could only bite the bullet and call Jiang Mochen.

He answered quickly—the background noise suggested he was among a crowd.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Su Wan hesitated, unsure how to begin. “Something happened here.”

At her words, Jiang Mochen’s voice grew serious. “Hold on.”

A moment later, it was quiet on his end.

“Okay, go ahead,” he said.

Su Wan chose her words carefully. “My workshop for making lipstick was trashed.”

She explained about the penalty and the losses. “So, I wanted to ask if you still need the costumes in the west wing.”

“Don’t overthink it. I’m just asking, not insisting.”

Without hesitation, Jiang Mochen said, “Don’t worry. Take them, all of them. I was planning to burn those things anyway.”

“I’ll be right there.”

After hanging up, Su Wan finally relaxed. At least the expenses for the time being were covered.

She went inside, poured herself a glass of water, and sat on the heated brick bed with her notebook, calculating her finances.

As she scribbled, a thick smell of smoke suddenly filled her nose.

Su Wan looked up, her eyelid twitching with a sense of dread.

She rushed out of the room in a few steps—only to see that, at some unknown point, the west wing had caught fire.

All the costumes inside were engulfed in flames.

Her heart pounded wildly. The person who’d trashed her workshop hadn’t left. He’d been watching from the shadows all along.

When he heard she was going to sell the costumes, he set the west wing ablaze.

Su Wan trembled. It felt as if the fire was consuming not just the costumes, but wads of bright red banknotes.

In her mind’s eye, she saw the fire taking her grandfather with it.

“No! I won’t let this happen.” Without thinking, she dashed toward the inferno.

At the last possible moment—just a meter from the flames—a tall figure burst through the main gate, grabbed her, and swept her into his arms.

He carried her away from the burning west wing.

“Are you insane?” Jiang Mochen shouted.

Su Wan stared at him in a daze. “Someone’s out to get me!”

“That bastard is still nearby!” She looked around, but the surroundings were utterly silent—not a soul in sight.

Su Wan grew frantic. “It must be Chi Zhou, that damn mongrel! I’ll kill him!”

Jiang Mochen held her tightly. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it!”

He was shaken—if he’d arrived a moment later, Su Wan would have rushed into the flames and been burned alive.

And this was only the beginning.

He didn’t dare imagine if such a thing happened again—would he be able to reach her in time?

Chi Zhou could not be allowed to remain.

She walked over and helped Jiang Mochen from the ground.

Uncle Hat’s car chased after Chi Zhou’s gang with precision as they fled in disarray.

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