Chapter 425
Wang Wenjie looked at Yang Mingyi and felt something click in his mind — as if something had snapped.
He saw that Yang Mingyi's usually sharp, piercing eyes were now brimming with tears, misty with a hint of fear.
Wang Wenjie stared, transfixed, his whole body stirring with excitement. But Yang Mingyi's struggling and writhing brought him back to his senses, leaving him irritated.
For over a year, he had tried time and again to win him over, yet Yang Mingyi still wouldn't give him a proper look. Wang Wenjie's patience was nearly exhausted.
"Ungrateful wretch."
The Yang family servant rushed over: "Let go of my young master."
Wang Wenjie's face darkened: "Get lost. Are you two dead? Hold him down for me."
Yang Mingyi's scalp hurt terribly from being pulled. Wang Wenjie yanked his hair, forcing him to raise his head, and patted his face with one hand.
"Yi Ger, tell me, why don't you like me? Hm? Haven't I been good enough to you? This past year, in order to please you, I've even quarreled with my mother. What's not good about me? Why won't you look at me? I originally thought that with enough sincerity, even stone would crack, but you—you've rejected me time and time again."
Blood was seeping from the corner of Yang Mingyi's mouth. He lowered his eyes and said nothing.
He didn't know what else to say. He had spoken, he had begged, yet Wang Wenjie still wouldn't let him go.
Wang Wenjie didn't mind his silence and continued talking to himself: "Is it because I won't marry you as my legal wife? Yi Ger, you have to understand me. My father doesn't agree, and there's nothing I can do about it. But it doesn't matter—legal wife or not, I like you best either way. Isn't it good to marry me? Isn't it good to be the young madam of the Wang family? Next year at the provincial examination, I'll earn you the title of juren, and make you a juren's wife. Isn't that good?"
Yang Mingyi's mind went blank. A sharp pain shot through his head, and he spoke hoarsely: "······No."
Wang Wenjie seemed not to have expected him to still be so ungrateful at this point: "What did you say?"
Yang Mingyi pleaded: "Let me go. I don't want to marry into your Wang family, and I don't want to be a juren's wife. I beg you, let me go!"
Wang Wenjie's fury flared up. This unrequited longing truly made him frustrated and angry. If gentle means didn't work, then he'd use force. He released the hand gripping Yang Mingyi's hair and delivered another slap: "You refuse what's good for you —"
Yang Mingyi was slapped to the ground.
Wang Wenjie wanted to hit him again, but suddenly froze, because Yang Mingyi looked as if he had seen a ghost—eyes wide open, staring at him with shock and disbelief.
No, more precisely, staring behind him.
He was about to turn his head when—bang!—a loud crash, and Wang Wenjie was sent flying.
That kick was incredibly powerful. Wang Wenjie's vision went black. Before he could even see clearly, he felt a weight on his stomach, and countless fists began raining down on him.
"Bad man, is your brain not working? How dare you hit Uncle Yang! Guaizai will feed you fists. Hit you, hit you, hit you."
"Young Master!" Wang Wenjie's two servants wanted to help, but the moment they lifted their feet, cold, sharp blades suddenly appeared at their throats.
The two servants nearly wet their pants: "Y-you, who are you?"
No one answered.
Wang Wenjie was dizzy and dazed. His body reacted instinctively, hugging his head to block: "Bastard, stop it, stop it right now."
Guaizai didn't stop.
Wang Wenjie: "I'm a xiucai!"
Guaizai was sitting on top of him, still not stopping. His little fists kept pounding at him.
Since pulling out his status didn't work, then he'd pull out his father.
Wang Wenjie said again: "Do you know who my father is?"
This time Guaizai finally stopped. He stared at him wide-eyed, looking troubled. "Who's your father? Didn't your mother tell you? You're asking Guaizai—how would Guaizai know?"
Wang Wenjie: "······"
Is that what I meant?
Do you even understand human speech?
Guaizai punched him again.
Wang Wenjie yelped: "Ah! Stop hitting me, stop! My father is the prefect of Yuanzhou."
"Guaizai's father is a prefect too. Guaizai isn't afraid of you. You hit Uncle Yang, so Guaizai will get you. Bad guy, bad guy — Guaizai will beat you to death."
Wang Wenjie wanted to say more, but Guaizai didn't give him the chance. A fist went straight for his mouth.
This time Wang Wenjie was beaten speechless, blood streaming from his mouth. Yang Mingyi hurriedly scrambled up and called out: "Guaizai, stop, stop hitting him."
Guaizai stopped. His palm was burning with pain. He glared at Wang Wenjie with unfriendly eyes. This guy's head was really hard—that slap had made his hand red.
"Uncle Yang." He called out to Yang Mingyi, then bounced over to him: "Uncle Yang, does it hurt?"
Yang Mingyi looked at him carefully, not missing a single detail. It took him quite a while to realize that this wasn't a dream, not a hallucination born from extreme fear.
It really was Guaizai.
His eyes were full of nostalgia and joy. Countless emotions were pushed down. He shook his head, trying his best to stay calm: "Guaizai, why are you here?"
But Guaizai didn't answer. He tilted his head up and looked at Yang Mingyi. As he looked, his face suddenly turned bright red. He lowered his head, fidgeting with the corner of his clothes, twisting and turning without speaking—like a shy little girl. Yang Mingyi watched as he raised a hand to touch his own big head, patted it all the way around, and then his little brows suddenly furrowed. He urgently beckoned to Zhang Quan.
Zhang Quan bent down and heard Guaizai whisper: "Uncle, Uncle, quick, check if Guaizai's hairstyle is messed up."
Zhang Quan: "······"
Yang Mingyi: "······"
Yang Mingyi was rendered speechless by him again, but his heart felt warm. Seeing him, he inexplicably felt very at ease.
Zhang Quan's face was covered in black lines.
Sometimes he felt genuine admiration for Guaizai. Just now, he had jumped up and kicked a grown man flying—not everyone had that ability.
But sometimes······ he was very brave, and other times, he was a complete coward.
A couple of days ago on the battlefield, when he was surrounded and attacked, that pathetic cry for help made even him feel embarrassed.
"Help! Help! Little Grandpa, come quick, save Guaizai! Guaizai is being beaten, it hurts so much, come quick, save Guaizai! Guaizai doesn't have a wife yet, Guaizai doesn't want to die, Little Grandpa come quick!"
That voice sounded utterly punchable, as if he really couldn't win and was about to be finished off any second.
Qin Yi and the others didn't know his character and thought it was real. They rushed to rescue him, but before they could get close, Jiang Zhanying's disciple punched Guaizai and knocked a tooth right out. Guaizai exploded, as if having a deathbed rally, and fought with fierce vigor. If Jiang Zhanying's disciple hadn't run fast, there would probably be an extra grave on the mountain by now.
Old General Qin was astonished by his explosive power.
Later, after fighting for a day and a night, the enemy retreated. Guaizai remembered his cry for help and seemed to feel embarrassed. He stubbornly made excuses, saying he had actually done it on purpose—it was a strategy to confuse the enemy and make them let their guard down.
Qin Yi and his group actually believed him, praising him for being brave and resourceful, remarkable.
Zhang Quan's expression at the time was indescribable. He had spent so long with Guaizai—how could he not know his true nature? This kid was vain at every moment. He probably got kicked in the mouth, was numb from pain, didn't know which tooth had fallen out, got scared, got annoyed, got angry—that's why he fought so fiercely.
Now, after being shy, he still had the mind to worry about whether his hairstyle was messed up. Zhang Quan was sincerely, thoroughly impressed.
Guaizai was happy to see Yang Mingyi and clung to him affectionately, as if the years of separation hadn't diluted their bond in the slightest.
Yang Mingyi had been badly beaten, and the servants had gone to fetch a physician. Guaizai's whole heart was fixed on him, and seeing his little brows furrowed, looking so nervous and worried, Yang Mingyi couldn't help but poke him on the cheek.
Guaizai smiled shyly, "Uncle Yang, does it hurt?"
Yang Mingyi shook his head, "It stops hurting when I see you." His heart was pounding violently, accompanied by a buzzing in his ears. He heard himself ask, "Why are you here?"
After saying it, he couldn't help but hold his breath, not knowing what he was hoping for.
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