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墨書 Inktalez
After that, the head of the Inspection Bureau arrived, followed by the president of the court... When the Property Manager rushed over, what greeted his eyes was such a "grand" scene. Beads of sweat the size of soybeans appeared on his nearly balding forehead in the cold night, and he took out a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe it repeatedly. He approached the Public Security Bureau Chief: "Wang... Director Wang, what... what happened here?"
He and Director Wang had some acquaintance, but at this moment, there was no trace of their past friendship on Director Wang's face. Who exactly had they offended to create such a huge commotion?
"Old Qiao!" Director Wang glanced at the sweating Qiao Youcai, looking helpless. They had provoked Qing Cang tonight, a man who could summon winds and rain.
The so-called wanted criminals were nonexistent. Soon, one by one, people carrying "criminal tools" were escorted out by the detectives from the hallway. They all hung their heads low, never expecting that their act of "standing up for justice" would bring them such disaster.
Among them were both old and young. Inside a Jeep, Qing Cang, who had already changed into clean clothes, scanned each of them with his piercing gaze. The silence made the Public Security Bureau Chief sitting next to him increasingly uneasy. The culprit Yuan Mufang had already been handcuffed; what would satisfy Qing Shao?
Director Wang summoned the deputy director, and the two were deep in discussion about how to handle this matter. Shen Qingyou slowly walked to the car, and they discreetly moved aside. "Get in!" A gloomy voice came from inside the car, but Shen Qingyou remained standing by the car, showing no intention of getting in.
"Where did they take Yuan Mufang?"
"Do you still care about his whereabouts?"
The coldness was like the chill wind outside. Standing outside, Shen Qingyou did not see Qing Cang's current expression—murderous intent radiated a bone-chilling aura of death.
"I was wrong today!"
Why did this damned woman have to take all the blame upon herself? Did she really love that man? Even after how he treated her, did she still have no complaints?
Thinking of this, Qing Cang angrily started the car and drove away into the dust. The sudden wind scattered Shen Qingyou's long hair and blew away her withered mood. After this storm, how would things end between her and Yuan Mufang?
Qing Cang left gracefully, but he left behind a mess. Everyone would be sentenced to three months of community service for disturbing public order, and the court's ruling was announced that very night. One by one, they wore sorrowful expressions, regretting having offended someone they shouldn't have. As they passed by Shen Qingyou, they couldn't help but steal glances at her. She was just an ordinary woman, yet she had managed to associate with such a formidable figure!
Yuan Mufang was released; this was Qing Cang's instruction. If it were up to Director Wang, he would have been detained for at least three months. However, with a phone call from Qing Cang, he had no choice but to comply unconditionally. As Shen Qingyou supported the unconscious Yuan Mufang and slowly disappeared from everyone's sight, there was a collective sigh among the crowd. Was everything that drunken man had done earlier real? Why did it seem that his feelings for this woman were so deep and unshakeable?
Ah, in the world of mortals, men and women experience love and then suffer from worries; from love comes fear. Without love and worries, where is there fear?
Therefore, do not love; loving leads to the pain of separation. If there were no love or hatred, there would be no bondage.
On the desolate long street, a Jeep was speeding like a shooting star, quickly crossing the horizon. Qing Cang pressed his thin lips together, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. Inside the car lingered her scent—the fresh fragrance of jasmine. He wanted to have her; he wanted to give her happiness. At this moment, Qing Cang held tightly to his beliefs: that man, that damned man, did not deserve such a wonderful woman. Once Qing Cang set his mind on something, he would not rest until he achieved it. Thinking of this made his blood boil; that man could not provide her with the happiness she desired because all of it could be given by him, Qing Cang!
Looking ahead to the days to come, Qing Cang found himself filled with anticipation. She and he would not be parallel lines but rather intersecting lines destined to meet!
“Yuan Mufang, why must we hurt each other?” In the dark room, Shen Qingyou did not turn on the lights; she was afraid—afraid of facing Yuan Mufang's increasingly unfamiliar face. Once upon a time, they loved each other so deeply; does deeper love only lead to greater pain?
There was no response as her delicate hands caressed Yuan Mufang's face—from his lips to his nose and then to his eyes—bit by bit, still familiar in appearance. But why did her heart feel such strangeness? “Yuan Mufang, has our love really reached its end?”
Yuan Mufang's cheek brushed against her hand as his eyes reddened; he murmured softly, “Serene, don’t leave me… I was wrong…”
Shen Qingyou felt a sharp pain in her heart as she released Yuan Mufang's hand. What kind of conclusion was this? Hot tears dripped down her cheeks as Yuan Mufang trembled and pressed his warm tear-streaked face into her neck. “Is it okay? Is it okay?”
Shen Qingyou felt dizzy—a panic-stricken dizziness without any defense. She held the trembling Yuan Mufang tightly in her arms, feeling utterly heartbroken. She knew she loved him more than she loved herself. How could she comfort the crying Yuan Mufang while feeling so broken herself? It was impossible to tell whose tears were flowing freely; why did they cry harder and harder? That trembling figure could not be consoled or calmed.
The love they once had shed its glamorous exterior and lost its luster; from then on, life was infused with grayness. “Yuan Mufang, once upon a time, loving you was a pleasure; being loved by you was happiness!” But at this moment, that love had turned into a sharp sword piercing through their hearts!
A love that has already withered is like a dark and decayed flower, gazing up at a true face with a posture of despair. In the face of all the cruelty and humiliation, who can still maintain a smile?
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