Lu Quinzue strode through the unnerving quiet of the night streets, his pace urgent. The silence wasn't the concern; the image of Xia Yingying alone and vulnerable was. A lone, dimly lit convenience store beckoned. As he neared, a familiar silhouette resolved in the fluorescent glare.
"Ma'am, are you sure that's the last pack?" Xia Yingying's voice, tight with frustration, carried to the doorway.
Lu Quinzue halted. 'Sanitary pads.' Understanding washed over him, followed by a sharp pang of self-reproach. Her abrupt departure from the mansion, the bathroom... his icy demeanor over Huo Meilin's preserved space had likely terrified her into fleeing rather than asking for basic necessities. A wave of unfamiliar remorse softened the hard lines of his face.
He stepped inside. "Xu Ziyu is en route with supplies," he stated, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "He'll be here shortly."
Xia Yingying whirled, surprise flickering in her eyes before a wall of cool indifference slammed down. She turned away, dismissing him. 'Why the hostility?' Lu Quinzue felt a dull ache beneath his sternum. He'd come to help.
The elderly shopkeeper bowed deeply. "Young Master Lu."
He acknowledged her with a curt nod, his focus solely on Xia Yingying. "Are you experiencing discomfort?" he asked, genuine concern lacing his words.
"Obviously," she snapped, refusing to meet his gaze, clearly annoyed he'd interrupted her thoughts.
The ache intensified. "Had you told me what you needed, this situation could have been avoided," he pressed, striving for patience.
Her head snapped back, eyes blazing. "Tell you? When that bathroom is a shrine to your precious Huo Meilin? How could I possibly disturb her sanctified space for something so... mundane?" The bitterness in her voice was corrosive.
Lu Quinzue leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper only she could hear. "Remember your place, Mrs. Lu. This is a contract, not a romance. Don't confuse the roles." The words were ice, meant to re-establish boundaries, but they felt hollow even as he spoke them.
Xia Yingying flinched as if physically struck, the color draining from her face. The harsh reminder was a bucket of icy water. 'Contractual. Right.' She spotted Xu Ziyu arriving. Mortification burned through her as she felt the telltale dampness staining her borrowed pajamas. Thankfully, the kind shopkeeper intercepted the package and swiftly wrapped a towel around Xia Yingying's waist, guiding her towards the store's small restroom.
Xu Ziyu watched Xia Yingying retreat, then turned a wry grin on Lu Quinzue. "Midnight errands for feminine hygiene? Quite the devoted husband." Their history – forged in hardship abroad – allowed a candor few others dared.
"Your proximity made you convenient," Lu Quinzue retorted flatly, though a flicker of something unreadable crossed his features.
Xia Yingying emerged moments later, now wearing the practical pajamas Xu Ziyu had thoughtfully included. She avoided Lu Quinzue entirely, offering Xu Ziyu a stiff nod of thanks before marching out the door without a backward glance.
Xu Ziyu's laughter rang out, genuine and unrestrained. "Finally! Someone who puts the mighty Lu Quinzue in his place! Glorious!"
"Silence" Lu Quinzue growled, storming out after Xia Yingying, frustration warring with the lingering ache her wounded expression had caused.
He followed her at a distance, a silent shadow. He wouldn't crowd her, but letting her walk alone this late was unthinkable. The quiet street felt oppressive.
Suddenly, Xia Yingying stopped. Five figures materialized from the gloom, moving with predatory leisure. Their leering grins promised violence.
"Well, well, what a pretty little package wanderin' alone," the lead thug drawled, reaching a grimy hand towards her face.
Lightning fast, Xia Yingying's arm shot up, a precise chop connecting with his neck. He gagged, stumbling back. The second lunged; she sidestepped effortlessly, her leg snapping out in a vicious roundhouse that connected with his temple. He dropped like a sack of stones. The third charged with a roar; she flowed behind him, an arm snaking around his neck in a textbook carotid restraint. "Sleep tight," she murmured, applying precise pressure. He slumped, unconscious, before his knees hit the pavement.
As the remaining two thugs surged forward, knives glinting, a blur of black swept past Xia Yingying. Lu Quinzue moved with terrifying speed and economy. A brutal kick shattered one assailant's knee; a simultaneous elbow strike crushed the other's windpipe. Both men hit the ground before their cries fully formed, incapacitated instantly.
Xia Yingying stared, momentarily awestruck. His efficiency was brutal, beautiful, and utterly terrifying. Pride warred with a sudden awareness of just how outmatched she truly was by him. She smoothed her pajamas, flipped her hair with forced nonchalance, and strode past him. "Thanks. I had it handled."
Lu Quinzue's lips quirked in a rare, genuine smile. Her grudging acknowledgment warmed him unexpectedly. "My pleasure," he rumbled, falling into step beside her. "Though rescues generally warrant... compensation."
Xu Ziyu caught up, panting slightly. "Compensation? How about a kiss for the hero?" he suggested with a theatrical wink at Lu Quinzue.
Lu Quinzue shot him a death glare.
Xia Yingying flushed, looking away. "Oh. That." The reminder of their contractual facade stung.
Lu Quinzue noted her discomfort, his brief amusement fading. He shot Xu Ziyu another warning look. "I merely dispatched the stragglers you missed," he deflected, ruffling Xia Yingying's hair like a child. The patronizing gesture made her scowl.
"You handled the first three?" Xu Ziyu gaped, reassessing the petite woman. The downed men weren't street punks; they bore the marks of hired muscle. Her dossier was suspiciously clean. "Impressive," he conceded, genuine respect in his voice.
Lu Quinzue plucked Xu Ziyu's car keys from his own pocket. "Let's go." He headed towards Xu Ziyu's parked sedan.
"You had them?!" Xu Ziyu sputtered, outraged. Xia Yingying couldn't help a small, vindictive laugh – Lu Quinzue's petty revenge for the kiss comment.
Lu Quinzue slid into the driver's seat of the sedan, while Xia Yingying instinctively opened the passenger door. Seeing Xu Ziyu approaching the Bentley, however, she changed course, slipping into the Bentley's back seat instead. "I'll ride with Xu Ziyu," she declared brightly.
Lu Quinzue froze mid-start, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. The air in the sedan plunged to sub-zero temperatures. He calmly pulled out his phone. "Prepare the holding cells. I'll interrogate the thugs personally." His voice was terrifyingly level – the calm before a hurricane. Xia Yingying shivered; she knew that tone from past-life rumors. Extreme anger, perfectly controlled.
Xu Ziyu whistled low. "They're in for a world of hurt." As Lu Quinzue started the Bentley. He was acutely aware of the glacial silence radiating from the sedan at their front.
During the drive, Xia Yingying puzzled over Lu Quinzue's possessiveness. Contract, he had said. Yet his actions screamed something else. Was it just male pride? The thought unsettled her more than the thugs had.
Back at the mansion, as they approached the grand entrance, the maid with the round glasses – Mei Ling – scurried out, wringing her hands, her face a mask of exaggerated distress. Dark circles ringed her eyes.
"Young Master! Thank heavens! I've been frantic! The guards weren't with you! If Grandmother found out you were out so late, unprotected... she'd dismiss me! My mother would be devastated!" Her voice trembled with practiced tears.
Lu Quinzue's expression softened minutely. Mei Ling's mother had been his devoted childhood nanny, a woman he held in genuine affection. Seeing her daughter's apparent distress triggered a flicker of obligation. "Your diligence is noted. Your salary will reflect it. Don't wait up so late again."
A flash of triumph lit Mei Ling's eyes before she ducked her head demurely. "Thank you, Young Master! I live to serve the Lu household!"
Xia Yingying observed the exchange, her gaze sharpening on the maid's suspiciously perfect "exhaustion." The dark circles looked... applied. A cold smile touched Xia Yingying's lips. "How thoughtful of you, husband," she purred, stepping forward to loop her arm through Lu Quinzue's with possessive sweetness. "Though perhaps such household decisions should involve your wife, don't you think?" Her challenge hung in the air, her eyes locked on Mei Ling's momentarily startled ones. The game with the maid was getting more fun.