Chapter Twenty-Three: A Fit of Temper

Time passed swiftly, and the days spent at the Xue family’s home were undeniably joyful. Each day brought delicious meals and beautiful scenery, not to mention a charming companion who never seemed to leave his side. With a faint smile, Chen Hongxu took the schoolbag Xue Xi handed to him, then gently held her small hand as they boarded the car home.

Over the course of a month, the two of them had finally made their relationship official. In Xue Xi’s words, they had pledged themselves to each other for life. Of course, although their feelings were clear and their relationship established, Chen Hongxu always hesitated to take the next step. So, after a month of dating, their intimacy rarely ventured beyond holding hands or, on rare occasions, a clumsy kiss when Xue Xi was particularly exasperated and insistent. Beyond that, there was nothing more.

On the way back, Xue Xi leaned heavily on Chen Hongxu’s shoulder, her eyes half closed, weighed down by her thoughts.

Chen Hongxu assumed she’d had a rough night dealing with Bingling and hadn’t slept well, so he didn’t give it much thought.

Three hours later, the driver smoothly parked the car at the entrance of Chen Hongxu’s apartment complex. After Xue Xi dismissed the driver, she silently bowed her head and followed Chen Hongxu upstairs.

Everything seemed as usual—until Chen Hongxu opened the door to his apartment and was left dumbstruck, to say the least.

He stared for several seconds before turning to look at Xue Xi in disbelief. “We’ve been robbed, haven’t we?”

The room had clearly been ransacked, but Chen Hongxu asked the question because, despite the chaos, nothing valuable seemed to be missing. The expensive items Xue Xi had bought were all still there; it was just a mess, nothing more.

Xue Xi pursed her lips and gave a nasal grunt of affirmation.

“You seem to have known about this for a while?” Chen Hongxu noticed her calm demeanor and asked uncertainly.

“Yes,” Xue Xi nodded, then gestured at the disarray. “I could have called someone to clean up beforehand, but I wanted to wait until you got back to decide what to do.”

“What else is there to decide? Call the police, of course.” Chen Hongxu rolled his eyes, unable to comprehend how such a shrewd woman could be so muddled over something so trivial. “Haven’t you any sense of the law?”

“Really?” Xue Xi’s eyes, which had been fixed on the floor, shot up, her tone rising at least eight decibels.

“Wait!” Chen Hongxu seemed to realize something and probed, “If you already knew, then you probably know who did it?”

The only people who held a grudge against him were Lan Zhao, who clearly disliked him, and Su Xiaoxiao, whose plans he’d foiled in Japan. But neither of them seemed the type to stoop so low—would they really ransack his home?

“Yes, I know. But you first—are we calling the police or not?” Xue Xi lifted her head, stubbornly meeting Chen Hongxu’s gaze.

“Shouldn’t I at least know who it is first?” Chen Hongxu was thoroughly baffled.

“As a citizen, you must learn to use the law to protect your private property. You’re a grown man; how can you not know this?” Xue Xi argued forcefully.

“Stop dodging. Who is it? You’re driving me mad.” Chen Hongxu reached out and gave Xue Xi a gentle flick on the forehead.

“Chen Hao!” Xue Xi stopped beating around the bush, her eyes bright and direct on Chen Hongxu.

“Oh, it’s him.” Chen Hongxu breathed a sigh of relief, then hesitated and said placatingly, “How about we just let it go?”

“I knew it! I just knew it!” Xue Xi pouted in protest, pushing past Chen Hongxu into the apartment, her face full of grievance.

To be honest, Chen Hongxu felt little affection for Chen Hao, but after all, he was his father’s elder brother. Even if they rarely saw each other, there was still a family tie. Besides, nothing was actually lost, so there was no need to drive the man into a corner over such a trivial matter.

He glanced at Xue Xi, who was dragging a bag of snacks to her room, then summoned Bingling. “Go inside and help me calm her down, will you?”

Bingling shook her head in reluctance. “There’s nothing I can do. But don’t worry too much—your little girlfriend’s temper comes and goes quickly.”

Chen Hongxu understood Xue Xi’s temperament, but he still had to show some concern. Otherwise, if he ignored the situation, who knew how long her anger might last?

“If you won’t, at least stay here and help me clean up. Just look at this mess.” After much wheedling, Chen Hongxu finally resorted to his last resort, and Bingling lazily wandered off to Xue Xi’s room.

In Bingling’s eyes, a beautiful woman should never soil her hands with menial labor. Someone as stunning as herself simply couldn’t risk calluses or rough skin from housework.

After Bingling went in to comfort Xue Xi, Chen Hongxu began to tidy up the apartment.

Meanwhile, Xue Xi was not, as Chen Hongxu imagined, rolling about in a fit of pique behind a closed door. Instead, she sat quietly on her bed, speaking earnestly into her phone:

“Yes, the information I gave you is all I have. If you can’t find anything, perhaps it’s time to consider another line of work… So what if it takes a while? You have a stellar reputation in the industry… Yes, I trust you. However long it takes, you must find out. Money is not an issue… Yes, I’ll wait for your news.”

“How did you get in here?” Xue Xi hung up and looked at Bingling, who had entered straight through the door.

“You two have your lovers’ quarrels, but guess who always ends up suffering?” Bingling raised her hand, pointing to her aggrieved face. “Still, I know your personality. I’m not here to persuade you. He’s counting on your temper flaring up and dying down just as fast, so I’m just here to make an appearance.”

“What?” Xue Xi suddenly stood up in anger. “That bastard really thinks he has me figured out?”

“Alright, stop pretending.” Bingling rolled her eyes. “We’re sisters—no need for the act.”

The reason Bingling and Xue Xi had gotten along so quickly traced back to when Chen Hongxu had revealed Bingling’s peculiar fondness for soap operas. On hearing this, Xue Xi had promptly assembled every gossipy aunt in the Xue family and tasked them with finding the most heart-wrenching, sisterly soap opera within a day.

The result was that, aside from being forcibly dragged to sleep with Xue Xi at night, Bingling spent all her time glued to the dramas. Truly, no force was more formidable than a cadre of determined family women.

“Fine.” Exposed by Bingling, Xue Xi sighed in resignation, then added fiercely, “But I can’t forgive him so easily this time. He doesn’t even know why I’m upset! Isn’t that infuriating? I can even guess his reaction in advance.”

Bingling refrained from asking why Xue Xi was angry, merely giving her a knowing look and saying, “If it happened to me, I’d be mad too.”

“Right?” Xue Xi pouted, shooting Bingling a look of solidarity. “This apartment is for me and him. Who does Chen Hao think he is, barging in and wrecking the place? That’s a slap in the face! I can’t stand anyone disrespecting my fiancé. And Chen Hao is indirectly ruining my memories too. I don’t even dare mess up the apartment on purpose, then redecorate it to my taste. Who does he think he is…”

“I also think that wooden rack by the door is tasteless!”

“You think so too? And it’s not just the rack—the kitchen hood…” Xue Xi seized Bingling’s hand in sudden kinship, and the two sat together, launching into an impassioned discussion of interior décor. As for Chen Hongxu? What about him? What problem with Chen Hongxu?

…

It wasn’t until dinner, as Xue Xi helped wash the dishes, that things finally eased between them.

“A few days ago, the 7.5 earthquake in Nara, Japan; casualties are still being tallied, but at present, there are no reports of Chinese tourists among the victims. Our reporters will continue to follow up…” Bingling, idly playing with the remote, glanced at Chen Hongxu, who was bagging up the trash, and they exchanged a smile.

At the same time, in the main hall of Kasuga Shrine in Japan—the very place where Chen Hongxu had killed the high priest—an old man with his hair tied high atop his head held a glass sphere the size of a bowling ball, and let out a hoarse laugh: “Good—he died well, and for a worthy cause. Hahaha…”

He then walked over to the side of the hall, gazing at four sets of armor frozen in place. With a defeated sigh, he muttered, “All four ‘Heavenly Striders’ remain unused. You got what you wanted, and now the burden falls to me.”

“Attend me!” the old man called, his voice carrying far.

“What are your orders, Honored Master?” Soon, more than a hundred people gathered outside the hall, kneeling so low they dared not look him in the eye.

Seeing the crowd assemble, the old man stepped out of the hall, pressed a finger to the forehead of a young priest, and said, “Picture the person in your mind, then distribute his likeness. He must be found.”

“Yes!” The chosen priest bowed respectfully.

“And one more thing—he is Chinese.” With that, the old man waved them off, then clasped his hands behind his back and looked up at the bright moon, murmuring, “Old friend, if you dare stake your life on this, then I shall wager the very foundation and future of this shrine…”