My Bloodthirty Husband Is So Gentle

Chapter 45: Don’t Leave Me, Sheng

Beating him until his head began to bleed.

Keeling over in pain, the man fell to its knees and covered his head with his free hand, trembling and screaming, “You evil monster! You are the evil monster that has come for Sheng! Sheng, run! Run quick! He’s the bad guy. Sheng, run quick!”

As his head lolled and blood trickled into his eyes, he stared at Jiang Jiusheng through his bloodied eyes, shouting at her to run away while Shi Jin just kept hitting him with the fire extinguisher every time he shouted.

Jiang Jiusheng was so stunned that she felt like her legs had turned to lead, rooting her to the ground. She watched helplessly as Shi Jin threw the fire extinguisher away, grabbed the man by his collar, slammed him up against the wall, and bludgeoned him on the head with a fist covered in blood.

It was as though the sight of this blood—or maybe even earlier, when he’d seen the blood from the wound on the back of Jiang Jiusheng’s hand—had triggered this frenzied act.

Capable of maintaining a sense of calculated calm in the face of trouble, quietly sizing up the enemy, and then waiting patiently for the opportunity to strike—nope, that was not him. At least, not in the current scenario. Jiang Jiusheng had to revise her previous understanding of Shi Jin, adding “ruthlessly vicious” to his other traits of gentle, well-bred, and gracious.

The man’s howls of despair became weaker.

“That’s enough!” Jiang Jiusheng commanded.

Shi Jin paused for a few seconds but did not stop hitting the man’s head, stomach, and the hand that wielded the knife, with rage and speed.

“Stop! You’ll kill him at this rate!” shouted Jiang Jiusheng.

“Then just let him die.”

That tone—so spine-chillingly cold.

Jiang Jiusheng had practiced mixed martial arts, and, based on what she had learned from the workshops she had attended on controlled violence, Shi Jin’s action would have been defined as beyond control with fatal consequences.

She raised her hand and caught Shi Jin’s arm.

“Shi Jin.”

Shi Jin looked at her, eyes blazing wild and red.

Keeping her trembling voice low, she asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

Shaken out of his trance, Shi Jin immediately unclenched his fist while his eyes slowly regained normalcy. Noticing his bloodied hands, he hid them behind his back, looking alarmed and confused.

“Sheng.”

He said her name carefully in a choked voice, sounding contrite, alternately stealing glances at her and looking down, like a child who had misbehaved.

This was a part of Shi Jin that was totally new to Jiang Jiusheng—alien, mysterious, and difficult to grasp. And yet, for some strange reason, she found it familiar. It was surreal. Like a childhood dream in which she was wandering endlessly and fearlessly in a long, quiet alley, trying unsuccessfully to find the endpoint or the way out of a seemingly familiar setting. Shi Jin was like that dream.

Surprisingly calm, she asked, “Did you follow me to the awards ceremony?”

Shi Jin’s reply of “yes” could hardly be heard above the howling and pleading of the prone man whose face had been beaten to a pulp.

“That car with my birthdate as a registration license—was it yours?” she asked, not appearing antagonistic, although her eyes had turned a tad cold.

Shi Jin did not respond immediately, waiting a long while before nodding. Unlike his usual suave and elegant self, he seemed desperate and unsure. He explained hurriedly, “I was concerned about you. Worried that the secret fans would harm you.”

To this, Jiang Jiusheng instantly replied, “You are also a secret fan.”

She regretted it the moment those words came out of her mouth. She had spoken out of turn and had no hidden agenda. She couldn’t understand the utter confusion that she had felt and just could not find the words to explain.

Shi Jin looked at her quietly, not saying a word.

“I—”

Suddenly, the phone rang and interrupted Jiang Jiusheng’s attempt to speak. Silently, she picked up the cell phone that was ringing nonstop, as if to convey panic and anxiety, from the ground.

Taking the call, Jiang Jiusheng listened for a while before replying, “It’s me.”

Shi Jin couldn’t work out whether the caller was male or female, or what they were discussing, but he could see a slight change in Jiang Jiusheng’s expression as she said, “Sorry to bother you.”

Hanging up, she looked at Shi Jin and started to speak before stopping herself. After a long while, she just walked away silently.

Shi Jin shouted after her, “Sheng!”

Jang Jiusheng turned around.

Eyes transformed into unfathomable, foggy pools of gray, much like dust-coated obsidian, Shi Jin declared, “I am not like him.”

Not like that.

Even though he was a secret fan that had moved to the estate to be near her; even when he had stalked her, loving what she loved and hating what she hated; even though he had done so many absurd and crazy things, they were simply not alike.

But at least, unlike the other man, Shi Jin’s knife would never have been aimed at her.

Pausing after each word, he repeated, “I am not like him.” After a very long pause, he said, struggling to control his unsteady voice, “You are not him. And I would never treat you the way I had treated him.”

He was different; she was different. While she might not have been able to see him clearly through the many barriers, he could see himself in her eyes. Just like the old days…

Letting his arms hang naturally by his side, he clenched and unclenched his hands before wiping the blood off them with the bottom hem of his coat.

Jiang Jiusheng gazed at his hands for a long time before tearing her eyes away, saying, “Let’s talk when I get back.”

“Can you not go?” Shi Jin pleaded.

After a long hesitation, she shook her head. “You go on home first.”

He stopped in the act of wiping his hands. She had gone…

That year, when the kapok (Ceiba) flowers were in full bloom, he had held on to her under the tree, continually reassuring her.

“Don’t be afraid, Sheng. I won’t do it again. I will listen to you and not make the same mistake. Please don’t cry? I will not hurt people. I will never hurt anyone again…”

She had cried, shouting, “Shi Jin.”

“I’m here. I’m here.”

He had knelt in front of her, looking up at her.

She hadn’t said a word. Crying, she had silently wiped the blood from his hands over and over.

Sheng didn’t want him to hurt people; she did not like seeing his hands covered in blood, never had.

He did remember and had never allowed himself to forget. No matter how vicious he was by nature, he had always managed to keep it under control.

Turning around, Shi Jin eyed the man on the ground. “It’s all your fault.”

The man on the ground lifted his head and saw a pair of cold, dark eyes slowly approaching him, those beautiful hands clenched into fists.

“It’s all your fault.”

At ten o’clock that night, due to an accident at the traffic junction on a south-bound main road about two kilometers from the Silver Royal Mansion, the traffic police had sealed off the road, causing a massive jam.