Chapter 4 Why the Bleeding Just Won't Stop

Wen Wanzhi clutched Baobao, running blindly into the villa and up to the top floor display room.

It was the only room in the villa with a fire door.

If she could just make it inside, she could buy some time!

But Wen Wanzhi, who had just recovered from a serious illness, could not outrun the man behind her, and just as she was about to be grabbed by the sleeve...

Luckily, she knew her way around, and in a blink of an eye, the door of the display room was in sight.

The moment she entered, the thug chasing her seemed to see red, and he hurled a dagger fiercely at Wen Wanzhi!

A cut instantly opened on her delicate white arm, and the dagger clattered to the ground.

"Ah—"

Wen Wanzhi felt so much pain that her vision turned dark, and she barely managed to dodge into the room.

Her slender waist crashed into the metal door, and she collapsed to the ground, clutching her arm by the wall's base.

At the door, the thugs had switched to crowbars and continued to slam violently against the door.

Wen Wanzhi was frightened by the loud noise, turning pale and trembling.

Blood poured from the wound on her arm, quickly soaking the sleeve of her clothes.

Her white dress was stained with a shockingly bright red.

Her vision gradually blurred...

"You little bitch, just wait!" The shouting at the door was deafening.

Wen Wanzhi, trembling, took out her phone and saw Bao Yancheng's WeChat message.

Bao Yancheng: Where are you?

It was like instinct; she dialed the familiar number.

It was picked up after just a few rings.

"Wen Wanzhi, are you..."

She didn't have time to listen to the man's angry words; blood gushed from her wound, pain turning her vision dark and her ears ringing incessantly.

"Yancheng, Suburban Studio, save me..."

The call was not disconnected, but there was no more sound.

Bao Yancheng's dark pupils constricted as he roared, "Wen Wanzhi, Wen Wanzhi!"

But no response came.

The chaos over the phone quickly turned into a busy tone.

Bao Yancheng stood up abruptly from behind his desk.

Stacks of contracts scattered to the floor with a crash.

Cheng Tong, upon hearing the noise, immediately knocked on the door.

"President Bao, do you need anything?"

Without a response, the office door was flung open, startling Cheng Tong.

What shocked him even more was the barely perceptible panic in Bao Yancheng's eyes.

Bao Yancheng slipped on his suit jacket as he walked and rushed into the elevator like a gust of wind.

"Take some men to the Suburban Studio."

Cheng Tong immediately understood and quickly made arrangements.

Madam was likely in danger.

In the underground garage, Cheng Tong didn't wait for Bao Yancheng to get in the car.

A black sports car sped out of the garage like an arrow released from its bow and vanished from sight.

Cheng Tong did not dare delay and hurriedly set off with the guards.

The Suburban Studio.

Wen Wanzhi felt so cold, her entire body curling up in the corner, shivering uncontrollably.

The thugs outside continued to smash the door, which was warping and soon wouldn't hold.

Wen Wanzhi's breathing grew weaker, and the hand covering her wound drooped powerlessly.

She stared blankly at the photo hanging on the wall of the display room.

In the photo, she was wearing a white shirt and camel-colored wide-leg trousers, holding a coffee cup, looking relaxed, casual, and beaming with a bright smile.

This was the photo Bao Yancheng took of her on the day the studio was founded.

Back then, Bao Yancheng always had a gentle smile on his face when he looked at her.

He would say, "Baby, don't work too hard."

Now, she had become a woman discarded by Bao Yancheng like a useless item.

With a loud bang, the display room's door burst open!

"We can't let this bitch have an easy time, where is she?"

"There's blood here, over there! Boss, in the corner!"

Wen Wanzhi resigned herself to the inevitable and closed her eyes, but the expected pull and yank on her body never came.

Among the hectic footsteps, she recognized that familiar voice.

Summoning the last of her strength, Wen Wanzhi lifted her eyelids and saw a tall figure cloaked in black.

It was Bao Yancheng.

His black shirt was unbuttoned to the second button, revealing sharply defined collar bones and the firm lines of his pectoral muscles.

His sleeves were rolled up, the fabric taut over his solid biceps. His trousers were tight, accentuating his long, powerful legs.

The luxurious fabric of his tie was tightly wound around his right fist, landing blow after blow, and within moments he had subdued the group of thugs to the ground.

The ones whining were dealt additional punches and suddenly, the room fell silent.

His usually meticulous and impeccable hairstyle was now disheveled, with a few strands falling down, contributing to the ruthlessness on Bao Yancheng's face.

His hard-soled shoes pressed down on one thug's hand, grinding it against the concrete floor.

A familiar, icy voice rose, "Speak."

The thug turned pale, shaking like a leaf, unable to utter a word.

As the young master of the Bao Family, Bao Yancheng, was known throughout Beijing for his ruthlessness and brutality.

They were merely instructed to scare the woman a bit, not wanting to provoke Bao Yancheng, a deity they couldn't afford to offend!

More footsteps echoed from the stairwell; Bao Yancheng didn't plan on wasting any more time.

He straightened up, rubbing his wrist.

"Cheng Tong, take them all away."

Wen Wanzhi's body relaxed completely, and she closed her eyes, losing consciousness.

Bao Yancheng took long strides toward her, lifting her from the corner and pulling her into his embrace.

The instant he touched her skin, his eyebrows knit together.

How could she be so ice-cold.

Wen Wanzhi was even paler than her lips, turning somewhat blue.

Bao Yancheng rose to his feet, and suddenly caught a whiff of the smell of iron.

Looking down, he saw that Wen Wanzhi's arm was still bleeding.

A darkness fell across his eyes, and with deft movements, he pulled out his tie and bound her wound tightly.

Getting up, he took off his coat to wrap her up, then quickly left.

Seeing this, Cheng Tong immediately followed close behind.

Bao Yancheng paused in his step, his sharp gaze turning to the subdued thugs.

"Take them back for questioning, find out who caused her injuries."

The woman in his arms felt as light as if she weighed nothing, stirring turmoil inside him.

When had she become so thin.

In the villa courtyard, Cheng Tong had just stepped out of the gate when he quickly stepped back in.

"President Bao, there are quite a few reporters outside."

Reporters?

Bao Yancheng's brows lifted briefly and his gaze toward the woman in his arms turned cold.

This place was so remote that not many knew about it.

If not for a deliberate arrangement, there wouldn't be so many reporters.

Unconsciously, Bao Yancheng's grip tightened, causing the woman to wince in pain.

Staging danger for oneself, then summoning the press to publicize it.

Indeed, such were the tactics of a scheming woman.

Seeing Bao Yancheng's mood shifting, Cheng Tong, steeling his resolve, suggested dispersing the reporters first.

A mocking, cold smile played on Bao Yancheng's lips.

"No need. Let's play along with her game, see what other tricks she has up her sleeve."

Cheng Tong didn't dare to ask who President Bao was referring to.

He took a deep breath, braced himself, and stepped out to start the car.

He left amidst the clamor of the photographers, taking Bao Yancheng and the unconscious Wen Wanzhi away.

On the way to First Hospital, Bao Yancheng smelled the increasingly intense odor of blood.

He tried to tighten the tie on Wen Wanzhi's wrist to stop the bleeding, but it was in vain.

Within minutes, both he and Wen Wanzhi's clothes were sticky and stained with blood.

Cheng Tong also noticed something was wrong and cautiously spoke, "President Bao, is Madam all right?"

Bao Yancheng's temples throbbed as he spoke in a low, hoarse voice.

"Drive faster!"

He had checked; the wound wasn't that serious, so why wouldn't the bleeding stop!