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墨書 Inktalez
The farce concluded with Lan Qingqing and Ke Jie making a hasty exit. Lan Qingqing was covered in paint, forced to leave, while Ke Jie was left humiliated and ashamed. The grand hall returned to its usual state as the employees returned to their desks.
The sudden silence enveloped Tong Le, who stood frozen in place, feeling an intense sense of detachment, as if nothing had happened at all. Beside her, Zong Zeyu gently grasped her wrist, bringing her back to reality.
Tong Le instinctively glanced at the desk where Hou Yi had just been seated, but he was already gone. With the end of the commotion, Hou Yi had quietly slipped away at some point.
Turning to face Zong Zeyu, who wore a smile, Tong Le felt as if she had shed a heavy armor after a tough battle. Although the confrontation had taken her by surprise, it was exhilarating to expose the ugly truths of Ke Jie and Lan Qingqing and clear her name.
Lowering her guard, Tong Le weakly asked, "Should I apologize to the employees? Or maybe explain?"
Nearby, Wu Youyou picked up an empty paint can from the floor and moved beside Tong Le, resting her chin on Tong Le's shoulder. "What’s there to explain? They’re just a bunch of onlookers. Look at everyone in this hall—who really cares about you? The crowd will believe what they want. Those who trust you will continue to do so; those who don’t will find ways to speak ill of you."
Wu Youyou stood up and smiled. "They’re all busy watching videos in their inboxes anyway. No one cares about the truth; they only care about how entertaining this drama is."
Zong Zeyu nodded in agreement; it was indeed true.
Wu Youyou patted Tong Le on the shoulder, inadvertently leaving a mark of red paint on her clothes. "Congratulations, Tong Le Jie! You’ve cleared your name. Wishing you a swift divorce!"
After Wu Youyou left, Zong Zeyu prepared to take Tong Le back to the office for some rest. As Tong Le glanced back at Hou Yi's former desk, she noticed a folded piece of white paper standing upright on the surface—clearly left there intentionally.
Approaching the desk, she picked up the paper and unfolded it. It revealed a sketch drawn in black ink—a rough yet vivid portrayal of herself during that moment when she was passionately defending her innocence in front of everyone.
It was a drawing by Hou Yi, capturing Tong Le as she stood boldly against the accusations.
Looking at the crude lines of the sketch, Tong Le couldn’t help but smile. Hou Yi truly was impressive—a busy artist managing to spread emails while also creating art; he was indeed a master of time management.
Zong Zeyu stood behind her and caught sight of the drawing in her hands. A hint of jealousy flickered across his face. "Oh? He can draw stick figures too? I’ll have my lawyer sue him for this."
"Are you going to sue Hou Yi?" Tong Le turned around.
Zong Zeyu replied seriously, "He violated my wife's portrait rights, which is essentially infringing upon my own rights."
He turned and headed toward the office with Tong Le following closely behind. "I’m not your wife! Don’t go looking for trouble! Besides, Hou Yi helped me today! Hey, why are you walking so fast? Wait for me!"
At the hospital, Ke Jie tended to his wounds while Lan Qingqing struggled with removing red paint from her hair strands.
Under duress, Lan Qingqing had no choice but to cut off a portion of her long hair. Ke Jie, bandaging his wounds, stood in the corridor waiting for her. His eyes were bloodshot, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the pain he inflicted on himself or from the agony of treating his injuries.
Before long, Lan Qingqing appeared before him. Although she had managed to wash off most of the paint, a faint layer of red remained on her face and neck, likely taking about a week to completely remove. Her eyes were swollen from crying.
The two exchanged silent glances as they walked side by side towards the hospital exit. The heat of the day bore down on them as they stood at the entrance, waiting for Mo Kai Liang, who was rushing over.
Unable to contain herself, Lan Qingqing cried out again, her sobs growing more pitiful. Ke Jie, fed up with her tears, shouted, “Stop crying! You’re acting like an idiot! All you do is cry when something goes wrong! Are those videos your fault? Did you accidentally leak them?”
Lan Qingqing screamed back, her voice breaking with anguish, “I want to ask you! Where did those videos come from? You secretly filmed me in ways I’ve never seen before! You ruined me, Ke Jie! You destroyed everything—my life, my career, my future! Everything has been shattered because of you!”
In a fit of rage, Lan Qingqing struck at Ke Jie, but he was too strong; with one swift motion, he pushed her away. She fell to the ground beside the road, shouting and wailing that someone was attacking her and that she wanted to die.
Ke Jie was already filled with anger. Hadn’t he lost everything too? His future, his marriage—everything had been destroyed by Tong Le! The plans he had painstakingly built over seven years were now in ruins!
His body ached all over, especially his face and head. The grievances he suffered earlier at Zong Shi Yan Tuan needed an outlet. He directed his fury at Lan Qingqing and kicked at her without thinking about her being pregnant. One kick after another made her scream in distress.
Just then, Mo Kai Liang arrived in time. He rushed over and shielded Lan Qingqing with his body as she lay disheveled on the ground.
“Kick me to death then!” she yelled back at Ke Jie. “And while you’re at it, kill my baby too! That way I won’t have to get an abortion!”
Ke Jie was about to strike again when Mo Kai Liang shouted to stop him. “Calm down! This is a public place! Do you want to go to jail?”
Ke Jie suddenly regained his composure; he couldn’t afford to go to jail. He feared imprisonment after what Tong Le had done to his father. He absolutely could not afford any mistakes now; otherwise, there would be no chance for redemption.
He pointed at Lan Qingqing on the ground and warned her fiercely, “If you dare to harm my child, I swear I’ll kill you!”
With that, Ke Jie pulled the car keys from Mo Kai Liang’s pocket and drove away alone.
Lan Qingqing lay on the ground wailing in despair while Mo Kai Liang carefully comforted her. He helped her up gently and said soothingly, “Let’s go home. I’ll help you wash your face clean and then cook for you. We can take a trip to another city to relax. It’s going to be okay, Lan Qingqing. As long as we’re alive, there’s always hope.”
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