The Byoukidere Is Her Sweetie-Chapter 82 - : 082: The Jealousy Routine of the Husband-Protecting Maniac (Second Update)

Chapter 82: 082: The Jealousy Routine of the Husband-Protecting Maniac (Second Update)

On the way back, the employer instructed, “Slow down a bit.”

Ah Wan once again slowed the sports car to a snail’s pace, and for the sixth time turned his head to look at the employer in the back, “Boss, what are you looking at?”

Jiang Zhi couldn’t be bothered to answer him, her gaze fixed outside the car window.

Ah Wan guessed, “Are you looking for that Z?”

Jiang Zhi finished scanning the bustling roads and then looked up high.

Ah Wan felt his employer was going crazy; anyhow, he didn’t believe that scum was the kind-hearted and morally upright Miss Zhou.

...

He couldn’t help but mutter, “She’s not a three-headed, six-armed creature, nor can she scale walls and roofs.”

Those people must’ve been exaggerating; they’d all had nine years of compulsory education, and he didn’t think that Z had any supernatural abilities.

Night fell quickly in winter, neon lights flickered everywhere, and the lights of a thousand homes shimmered in dwindling twilight, with the towering Imperial Buildings rising into the clouds, linking the far horizon.

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Tonight, there were no stars, the thick clouds obscuring the moonlight.

So Zhou Xufang weaved between high-rises, jumping from one to another, not blinking as she went, dashing through the pitch-black night like an agile cheetah.

Only…

Suddenly, the sky began to drop ice pellets, paining her face as they fell.

Approaching the traffic light intersection, Jiang Zhi suddenly said, “Let’s find a warm place to rest, wait for the ice pellets to stop before we go back.”

The dim-witted tall man in front was a bit slow on the uptake, “Huh?”

Jiang Zhi rolled down the window, caught some ice pellets in her hand, and said, “Park the car, I’m tired.”

“Oh.”

Ah Wan found a high-end tea house. The place was a bit secluded, but he had been there several times. It was where the elite of the Imperial City went; he had driven his employer there many times and knew the way well.

Perhaps it was the abruptness of the ice pellets, but the tea house was overcrowded; private rooms were all taken, so Ah Wan chose a secluded spot outside.

But even that couldn’t block his employer’s widespread allure.

“Jiang Zhi?”

It was the fourth daughter of the Ming family, dressed in an attention-grabbing fiery red dress, looking like a perfectly ripe chili pepper.

Jiang Zhi didn’t even lift an eyelid.

Ming Saiying was bold and proactive, especially towards Jiang Zhi, tirelessly teasing, “Where did you get this hair done?” The foggy blue dye favored by the little rascals, looking both bewitching and beautiful on Jiang Zhi, made her seem like a lovable little demon.

The little Jiang demon ignored her.

Not discouraged, Ming Saiying smiled dazzlingly, “Why so stingy? Are you afraid I’ll copy your style?”

The little Jiang demon still treated her as if she were thin air.

The young man beside Ming Saiying couldn’t stand it any longer, tugged at Ming Saiying, annoyed yet not daring to lose his temper, and hurried her in a pinched voice, “Let’s go, sis.”

The young man had a scrappy foil perm, and looked fierce like a dashing little hooligan. He was Ming Saiying’s younger brother, the sixth child of the Ming family, Ming Yanghua, known in the Imperial City as Young Master Hua.

However, Young Master Ming despised such unwarrior-like nicknames, only allowing people to call him Mr. Ming, although, privately, everyone quietly called him Xiao Hua.

Ming Saiying shrugged him off, “Wait over there.”

Ming Yanghua snorted and walked away, unable to bear seeing his tomboy sister unable to move whenever she saw Jiang Zhi.

“Jiang Zhi,” said Ming Saiying, who was stuck in place, her eyes smiling brightly, “let’s share a table.”

Jiang Zhi finally deigned to speak, “No.”

She looked good.

Her voice sounded good, too.

Ming Saiying was itching inside, “I’ll just sit down; I’ll leave right after drinking.” She was in pursuit of a beauty, and having finally encountered her, she couldn’t just walk away.

Jiang Zhi didn’t even bother to talk back, showed impatience on her face, and called out to Ah Wan, making a shooing gesture.

Getting the hint, Ah Wan was about to step forward to drag her off when Ming Saiying suddenly moved back, accidentally bumping into a tea-serving waiter. Losing her balance, she lurched toward Jiang Zhi.

Solidly, she ended up sprawled across Jiang Zhi’s legs.

A beautiful face on Jiang Zhi quickly turned cold, her body stiffening with disgust.

“Ming Saiying,” his voice was muddled, biting off his words, and his beautiful eyes were already showing a frightening look.

Curiously enough—

Ming Saiying thought his angry demeanor was full of attack, both forbidden and desirous, which left her stunned for a moment. “Huh?”

He was yanking at the corner of his coat on his thigh, fiercely tearing it away. “Get off.”

Jiang Zhi hated women and roses the most in his life.

Of course, Ming Saiying knew that. She scrambled up in a hurry, blushing for the first time with a thick-skinned innocence, “I really didn’t mean to.”

Jiang Zhi looked up at her with anger in his eyes, his gaze intense.

She’s angered him! Ming Saiying touched her nose. “Your body is delicate; don’t be angry.” It would hurt her if she got upset, “I’ll roll away myself.”

And with that, she cleverly rolled away.

Outside the tea pavilion, a pair of eyes stared fixedly through the glass.

Touched…

That woman’s hand had touched Jiang Zhi’s leg, and she wanted to twist that hand off.

Really wanted to.

Zhou Xufang was fixated on the woman’s hand in a daze when suddenly someone bumped into his shoulder, causing his glasses to drop to the ground.

“Sorry about that. Did I hit you?” The tone of the apology was a bit frivolous.

Zhou Xufang looked up.

“You you you you…”

The man was so frightened that his hair stood on end, stuttering for a long time. His face, pampered and delicate, quivered as he asked, “Are you a human or a ghost?”

The figure in black was dressed head-to-toe, with only a pair of crimson eyes exposed.

Lowering her voice, her gaze chilling, she replied, “A ghost.”

Ming Yanghua rolled her eyes back and fainted, lying sprawled on the ground.

Now, Zhou Xufang was petrified as well.

If Jiang Zhi saw her looking like this, would he be the same? Would he be scared of her, disgusted by her?

Ice pellets hit her face, and it hurt. Her eyes grew redder, but she put on her glasses, squatted down, picked up the person, and tossed them into a large trash can by the roadside. Then she heard the woman in the red dress inside the tea pavilion yelling anxiously and irately.

Zhou Xufang felt the ice pellets were not as painful anymore.

In the corridor of the tea pavilion, wind chimes tinkled in the breeze, mixed with the sound of a wheelchair rolling across the floor.

The threshold was just too high; the wheelchair couldn’t pass.

The man in the wheelchair leaned on a crutch to stand, while the person behind him grew impatient, “Excuse me.”

He turned his head.

It was a handsome face with a slight flicker in his eyes.

What a small world for enemies to meet.

Luo Qinghe stood behind with folded arms, a sly smile playing on his lips, “You’re blocking my way.”

Without a word, he moved aside, relying on just one crutch to support his prosthetic leg, limping to the side. Just a few steps made sweat bead on his forehead.

Luo Qinghe stepped over the threshold, took a few steps, then turned back with a nonchalant smile. “Still have the leisure to come here for tea, it seems Uncle Zhou you’re quite comfortable at the radio station.”

Zhou Qingrang said nothing, looking down as he pulled the wheelchair to one side, his eyes cold and clear.

Luo Qinghe nodded towards his coat, “Since your leg is crippled, better behave.”

With that, she walked away in her high heels, with leisurely steps, the hem of her coat under her dress fluttering, conjuring lotuses with every step. That was until someone blocked her path around the corner.

She looked up, the smile gone, “Second Miss Lu, what brings you here?”

The other was young, commanding without anger, “Luo Qinghe,” she paused slightly, her gaze becoming more piercing, “Do you know whose turf this is?”

The second child of the Lu Family, Lu Sheng.

She was just over twenty, with a dashing and exquisite appearance, but her aura, few weren’t intimidated by her.