Chapter 8: The Art of Provocation

Jiang Zao was still in shock. As Zhou Lichuan got up, she hurriedly sat up and moved back, quickly fastening her undergarment.

"Did I scare you?"

Hearing Jiang Zao's trembling breaths, Zhou Lichuan asked her softly.

Jiang Zao took a deep breath to steady her emotions and shook her head. "I’m fine… How did you know he was coming in?"

Zhou Lichuan smiled faintly. "My eyes aren’t so good, so my ears are especially sharp."

Jiang Zao paused, trying to change the subject. "The hospital said it’s only temporary. You’ll get better soon, so you don’t need to worry too much."

"I’m not really worried about that," Zhou Lichuan replied, "but you—were you frightened? I’m sorry."

Jiang Zao held back for a long time before finally bursting into tears. "Wuwuwu… just now… do you know how scary you were… I thought… I thought you were going to do that to me again…"

Her sobs disoriented Zhou Lichuan. He hurried to comfort her, "I’m sorry, really, please don’t cry… I’m a jerk, I’m a bad person. How about you hit me? Maybe it’ll make you feel better?"

He even leaned his head toward her as if he truly wished she’d slap him a couple of times.

Jiang Zao pushed his face away with her hand. "Just stay away from me…"

"Alright. I’ll stay far away, really far, and not get close to you at all, okay?"

Seeing his sincere attempt to soothe her, Jiang Zao’s anger faded a little. As she relaxed, she saw Zhou Lichuan reach into the bedside cabinet, rummage around, and pull out an ornate pair of scissors inlaid with gemstones.

"What are you doing?" Jiang Zao asked in a muffled voice.

Zhou Lichuan didn’t answer directly. "You’ve never had a boyfriend before, right?"

"That’s right… Hey, wait—!"

Zhou Lichuan rolled up his trouser leg and plunged the sharp scissors into his own calf. The blade was so keen it instantly cut through the skin, and blood welled up.

He stretched out his long leg, letting the blood drip down and seep into the thick blanket.

"What are you doing?! I may be frightened and angry, but there’s no need for you to punish yourself like this. This is—oh no, get up! Where are the tissues? Let me stop the bleeding."

Zhou Lichuan caught her flustered, anxious hands in reassurance. "Don’t worry, it’s nothing. It’s just for Lin Rui to see. I didn’t cut deep; there’s no need to stop the bleeding."

"For Lin Rui to see… ah… I understand now…"

Zhou Lichuan stroked her soft hair. "In the wardrobe, on the rack, there’s a bottle of leather care oil. Pour some around the bloodstain on the carpet."

Jiang Zao got up, retrieved the oil, and as she opened the bottle, a familiar yet strange scent rose up, instantly reminding her of the first time she’d met Zhou Lichuan.

Noticing her pause, Zhou Lichuan chuckled softly. "I once joked with Lin Rui that this oil smelled a bit artificial, never thought it’d come in handy like this. Don’t pour too much—if the oil is used up too quickly, Lin Rui will notice."

Obediently, Jiang Zao dripped a few drops, then put the small bottle back in its place.

After tidying up briefly, the two lay down to rest.

Night deepened. Zhou Lichuan slept in his clothes, while Jiang Zao pulled the comforter over herself and, by the light of the bedside lamp, began reading the book she’d brought from the study.

The easy, cheerful words, mingled with her youthful voice, became the perfect lullaby for the night.

…

In the morning, after breakfast with Zhou Lichuan, Jiang Zao mentioned she needed to pick up the perfume she’d ordered the day before. Zhou Lichuan merely nodded, his face expressionless.

Lin Rui hurried to offer to accompany her.

But Zhou Lichuan stopped him. "Lin Rui, there’s something I need you to do. Let Jiang Zao take the driver herself."

Lin Rui agreed, "Alright. Miss Jiang, take care on the road."

Jiang Zao nodded and left the villa.

No sooner had she stepped outside than she pulled out her phone and called Jiang Jingyuan, arranging to meet at the same café as yesterday.

After picking up her custom perfume, Jiang Zao entered the café and found Jiang Jingyuan already seated at their previous spot—clearly he was eager.

Without a word, she sat down, took out the box containing the stamp, and placed it in front of her, raising her eyes to meet his.

Jiang Jingyuan’s gaze was greedy, fixed on the luxurious dark green box.

"Jiang Zao, you’re incredible! Truly my daughter—just one day and you’ve got the stamp!"

As he reached for it, Jiang Zao swiftly pulled the box back into her hand.

"I’ll give it to you, but we need to discuss terms first."

Jiang Jingyuan sneered and straightened, gesturing for her to continue.

"I want my identification. Withholding someone’s ID is illegal, even if you’re my father."

Jiang Jingyuan thought her naive to the extreme—still talking about the law at a time like this.

"What? If I don’t give you your ID, you won’t give me the stamp? Don’t forget, the ID isn’t all I have."

Jiang Zao frowned. "You said yourself—it’s just an old building in a small county, you don’t even care about it."

"I don’t care, but you do. In all these years as father and daughter, you’ve never shown me any affection. Why should I give you the house?"

Jiang Zao, furious, retorted, "So you’re going back on your word?"

"It’s not me reneging, it’s you wanting to negotiate first. Jiang Zao, if you don’t give me the stamp, I guarantee you won’t get that house. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. That house is where you grew up. Someone as sentimental as you can never let go of old things. If you try threatening me with anything else, I’ll sell the house right now. If you’ve got the means, buy it yourself. Aren’t you rich? You paid your own way through university. If you’re so wealthy, why not buy the house?"

Jiang Zao’s fists clenched in anger. "You’re the one who refused to let me go to school, who hid my acceptance letter, who made Grandma so angry she relapsed and died. Grandma fought to have her estate left for my tuition, and I’ve never taken a cent from you all these years. Why do you treat me like this? If it weren’t for… if it weren’t for…"

"If it weren’t for what?" Jiang Jingyuan’s face twisted with rage. "If my wife hadn’t stolen your acceptance letter and given it to you, could you have what you do today? Jiang Zao, I gave you life. You’ll obey me for the rest of your days, and you want to negotiate with me? Hand over the stamp. Since you’ve been efficient, I’ll overlook your defiance today. But if there’s a next time, you can forget about getting what you want."

Jiang Zao stood there, breath caught in her chest, her eyes rimmed with tears, but unable to argue.

She slammed the stamp onto the table, the loud thud drawing glances from other patrons.

Jiang Jingyuan snatched the stamp, stuffed it into his pocket, and left.

Watching his decisive departure, Jiang Zao quickly wiped away her tears, thinking she should have become an actress—her tears flowed so easily, as if fate itself had destined her for such a role.

She gathered her things, paid for the coffee, and prepared to head to her next destination.