My Bloodthirty Husband Is So Gentle

“After all, I had been pretending to be male for almost 20 years, so where or how could I resume being a girly female?”

She explained this matter-of-factly, as if it were no concern of hers. Jiang Jiusheng believed that this steely mindset could only have been honed from the trials and tribulations of life. She bit into her unlit cigarette to satisfy her craving and asked, “Are your debts cleared?”

Sounding indifferent, Su Qing replied, “It’s a bottomless pit.”

Jiang Jiusheng had heard some snippets from Mo Bing about Su Qing’s gambling addict of a father. Mo Bing had described Su Qing’s father as an insatiable parasite that could not be put down.

Generously, Jiang Jiusheng asked, “Can I help?”

Su Qing was caught off guard. He Xiangbo had told her that when Jiang Jiusheng’s album had first started to sell like hotcakes, she’d had her fair share of brown-nosers and haters alike. He Xiangbo had also mentioned that, on top of the obligatory protection from her boss Yuwen Chongfeng, Jiang Jiusheng had an innate ability to stay cool and disengaged in all situations—never getting involved in conflicts, hurting, or putting herself out for anyone. In the entertainment industry, it was extremely rare to find an artiste desensitized from the fluff and machinations. Obviously, Jiang Jiusheng was an expert.

Smiling, Su Qing shook her head. “Not at the moment.” Then, jokingly, she asked, “Your concert is scheduled for next month?”

“Yep.”

“Can I come as a guest singer?” Su Qing’s tone turned serious as she added, “Actually, I’ve always wanted to be a singer, but He Xiangbo has no intention of pitching me for a career in music.”

After the incident, Su Qing had felt that their relationship seemed to have developed further at the personal level, so she felt comfortable enough in broaching her request. Since she was currently the hottest “traffic-generated celebrity,” it would be no skin off Jiang Jiusheng’s nose.

But Jiang Jiusheng rejected her. “Afraid not.”

“Why not?” Su Qing knew that, with her popularity, she would most definitely draw in the crowds.

“I’ve heard you sing. It was a disaster,” Jiang Jiusheng replied bluntly. “He Xiangbo was right to keep you away from the music scene.”

Su Qing was speechless.

Ouch! That hurt, buddy!

Honestly, Jiang Jiusheng thought that He Xiangbo had been spot-on with his career path for Su Qing by restricting it to endorsements, appearances in variety shows—crowd-pleasing roles that did not demand in-depth acting—and the international fashion scene. Apart from her horrendous acting and disaster of a singing voice, Su Qing’s other qualities did indeed meet Jiang Jiusheng’s criteria. So the subject of a guest singing appearance was put to bed there and then to avoid damaging a budding relationship that scored slightly above superficial, bordering on friendship status.

Passing a peeled orange to Jiang Jiusheng, Su Qing asked, “Why are you helping me?”

It would have been easy for Jiang Jiusheng, if she’d been willing, to crush her. With a traffic-generated celebrity out of the way, Jiang Jiusheng could have been allocated more resources from Yuwen Chongfeng.

Putting down her cigarette and accepting the orange, Jiang Jiusheng said, “I like your face.”

Su Qing couldn’t help but burst into laughter. What a cool woman! It was a pity that, although Su Qing had assumed the role of a man for some time now, she still stayed true to her values; otherwise, she would have married her.

“Just as well that you like my face,” Su Qing said with a laugh. “Otherwise, I might end up like Jian Chengzhong.”

“What’s up with him?”

Surprised, Su Qing asked, “You don’t know?”

When Jiang Jiusheng softly admitted as much, Su Qing hesitated, wondering if perhaps Yuwen Chongfeng and Mo Bing had not wanted to bother Jiang Jiusheng with the news. Then she decided that she should just state the facts.

“Last night,” she said, “Jian Chengzhong was abducted from his home. He was found by the police this morning in a warehouse in the western district, locked in an aquarium with the water level reaching his nostrils. He would have died if they hadn’t found him when they did.”

Jiang Jiusheng listened without uttering a word, utterly expressionless.

Noting no reaction, Su Qing let her guard down and continued, “I heard from my manager that the abductors were not after his money or his life. They just broke his left arm, slashed his face, and put him in a tank of water, scaring him to the extent that he peed his pants. Then they left. His abductors were real pros, leaving no evidence behind. They also timed it such that the police arrived just seconds before he would have drowned. His life was never in danger, but he was scared out of his mind. He said nothing when questioned by the police but muttered continuously that he was wrong and would never make the same mistake again. The hospital reported that etomidate had been used. It’s an anesthetic commonly used in surgery.”

Jiang Jiusheng remained silent, deep in thought.

Jian Chengzhong—the typical rich bully, arrogant and seemingly above the law—had made many enemies in the industry, so it was expected that he would meet his nemesis someday. But it was too much of a coincidence. Jiang Jiusheng’s left arm had been dislocated, and Jian Chengzhong’s left arm had been injured; Jiang Jiusheng had suffered a cut on her face, while Jian Chengzhong had also had his face slashed. All done in stealth with not a single shred of evidence.

How eerie! Although Su Qing was not superstitious by nature, even she found it unsettling.

“Sheng, even I am beginning to suspect that you really are a jinx,” Su Qing quipped.

Jiang Jiusheng maintained her usual stance of neither agreeing nor refuting.

Su Qing tried to console Jiang Jiusheng, saying that the people who had been “jinxed” had indeed intended to harm her and therefore deserved to be punished, much like ridding society of evil.

A strong gust of wind signaled impending bad weather. The fall sky appeared heavy with dark clouds, shutting out the sunshine and making the muggy air increasingly suffocating.

Jiang Jiusheng put on a light jacket and went to the hospital’s rooftop on the 15th floor. Looking down, she could see the hustle and bustle of city life, braving the cool winds of fall.

She called Yuwen Chongfeng, and the call was answered very quickly, the recipient asking in a lazy drawl, “What?”

“Was it you?”

The gusty wind had caused her voice to break.

“Jian Chengzhong?”

“Yep.” Leaning against the railing, Jiang Jiusheng looked up at the overcast sky, the strong wind drying her eyes, and asked flatly, “Did you set him up?”

Hearing a woman’s voice in the background, she realized that she had probably interrupted her boss’s amorous exploits.

With a command to be quiet from Yuwen Chongfeng, the woman obeyed. Yuwen Chongfeng rose to his feet and walked away before continuing, “Who told you?”

“Su Qing.”

“That guy has too much time on his hands.” He then corrected himself, “Oh, but she’s not a guy.”

Jiang Jiusheng was speechless. So Yuwen Chongfeng knew that Su Qing was female.

“It wasn’t me.” He said. Pausing, he confirmed, “Not Xie Dang, either.”

With a sound of acknowledgment, Jiang Jiusheng hung up.

Yuwen Chongfeng said nothing for a moment. That woman was always hanging up on him.

“Master Feng,” said the voice of the submissive, gentle, and understanding woman in the room.

“Go on home,” he commanded, having suddenly lost interest.

Feeling slighted, the woman whined, “But I just got here.”

“I’ve had enough. Get it?”

The pretty young lady turned pale and pouted reluctantly. “All right, I’m leaving.” After taking a few steps, she turned around and asked hesitantly, “Master Feng, do you dislike me? You don’t even touch—”