Chapter 75: The pinker a man's joints

Zhou Yinhe was stunned by her question, then hastily explained: "I, I really know about this, but the women they brought were all willing, so..."

"What about her?" Wen Ling pointed at the woman who, although crying, stared blankly at the two of them.

"She..." Zhou Yinhe followed her finger, the woman's disheveled collar and swollen side of her face clearly visible; he was momentarily speechless, swallowing dryly.

Wen Ling tugged at the corner of her mouth; although her reason told her this matter had nothing to do with Zhou Yinhe, she really felt uncomfortable inside.

She felt that the men before her were the same as the group she had seen in M Country, both regarding women as toys in their hearts.

She sighed, shoved the cigarette and lighter into Zhou Yinhe's hands, and said weakly: "Forget it, just take me home."

Zhou Yinhe tentatively reached to take her hand; Wen Ling didn't dodge, instead actively interlocking their fingers, and only then did he finally let out a breath of relief.

As he brushed past Zhao Ningyan, Zhou Yinhe returned the cigarette and lighter to him, giving him a glance.

He wanted to leave, but wouldn't do so easily; normally he could ignore what that group did in private, but not in front of Wen Ling.

Zhao Ningyan raised his eyebrows, looking at the few panicked people, and curled the corner of his mouth.

After the two left, Zhao Ningyan lowered his eyes, tapped out a cigarette from the case, lit it leisurely, took a puff, looked at the few people through the smoke, narrowed his eyes, and said calmly: "Take care of it, remember to leave no traces."

The countless black-clad men who had been standing in the darkness stepped forward and silently dragged the few people away.

Ke Chengyu leaned against the wall, watching the scene, and chuckled lightly: "When did you become so hesitant?"

"I don't care, but since it involves Zhou Xiao Wu, I can't afford not to be cautious." Zhao Ningyan couldn't help laughing, the corners of his eyes slightly rising, his tone frivolous: "I'm afraid his older sister will come after me for settlement."

Qi Zhan crossed his arms and bluntly sneered: "I thought you were afraid of causing trouble for your old father, but I didn't expect you to be just like Xiao Wu, a love‑brain."

"What's wrong with that?" Zhao Ningyan didn't think being a love‑brain was a problem at all.

Jiang Jibai stretched lazily, unable to hide his envy: "Xiao Wu is still the best—he has older brothers and sisters backing him up, a future brother‑in‑law supporting him below, and his own talent; he casually started a company and it took off smoothly."

"Yeah." Ke Chengyu yawned, turned toward his own car, and without looking back said lazily: "Let's go, head home to sleep; see you at the Qin family tomorrow."

Qi Zhan caught up with his steps and also yawned: "Give me a ride back."

That woman still stood where she was, staring blankly at the few people; Zhao Ningyan walked up to her slowly and said lightly: "Remember to keep your mouth shut."

The woman nodded dully, watching wide‑eyed as the few people who had just been incredibly arrogant were silently dragged away, while the person who decided their fate remained indifferent, as if nothing had happened at all.

After getting in the car, Wen Ling fell silent, gazing sideways at the scenery flashing past the window; Zhou Yinhe opened his mouth several times to say something, but seeing the words "please do not disturb" clearly written on her face, he swallowed his words back.

It wasn't until the car smoothly stopped at the gate of the seven villas in Lang Po Wan that Wen Ling softly said: "Go back and rest early; remember to come tomorrow morning and bring the gift I prepared for my grandfather."

Zhou Yinhe pressed his lips and asked: "Can't I stay tonight?"

Wen Ling blinked, smiled with a curved lip, and said: "Didn't we agree? We're not living together."

"Can't I stay even just one night?" Zhou Yinhe grabbed Wen Ling's hand and wouldn't let go, a hint of grievance flashing in his narrow eyes: "Are you still angry about what just happened? I really didn't know they would force anyone."

Wen Ling looked at his eyes, still softened, and said helplessly: "Let's talk after we get out of the car."

Upon hearing that, Zhou Yinhe hurriedly pushed open the car door, stepped out, took Wen Ling's hand, and walked together toward the villa.

Wen Ling left Zhou Yinhe behind and went into the bathroom alone to shower; after she came out, she found Zhou Yinhe sitting at the bathroom door, gazing at her eagerly, like a little red‑haired puppy.

Wen Ling raised a hand to scratch his chin, amused, and said: "What are you waiting for here?"

"I want to explain to you." Zhou Yinhe pressed his lips, pulled her into his embrace with his chin resting on her shoulder, and whispered softly: "They've always been like that; those women might not have been willing at first, but once given a bag, a car, or a house, they'd agree."

"I didn't intervene to stop them for that very reason."

Wen Ling placed her fingers on the back of his head and gently massaged, quietly listening to his explanation; only after he finished did she speak softly.

"Was my reaction too big, scaring you?"

Zhou Yinhe gave a grieved hum.

Wen Ling leaned back to look at him, tugged at the corner of his mouth, and said seriously: "Back in M Country, I often went racing and to casinos with Lu Zhaoye and the others; I knew they had this hobby, liking to use women as bets. Once, outside a casino private room, I happened to pass by and heard a woman's cries for help, but my friends were calling me, so I just ignored it."

The day after hearing that woman's plea, the casino was shut down because that bunch of playboys had caused a death, and the person tortured to death was exactly that woman who had begged for help.

"I've seen that woman's corpse—it was horrible, beyond imagination. If I had saved her that day, this probably wouldn't have happened. The most ridiculous part is that, thanks to their backing, those people were released after just a few days."

She leaned back into Zhou Yinhe's embrace and whispered softly: "The club is something you invested in and built; if anything really goes wrong, it will surely implicate you. I don't want you to be their backing."

Zhou Yinhe finally understood why she had reacted so strongly.

His Lingling had always been just a bit aloof on the surface, but in reality she was softer than anyone, ready to stand up for others, and would feel guilty and blame herself for failing to save someone.

"Lingling, what you're worried about will never happen," Zhou Yinhe assured her.

Wen Ling gave a muffled hum; that sour, self‑reproaching feeling remained strong, so to distract herself she had to find something to vent her emotions.

She took Zhou Yinhe's hand, lowered her gaze to examine the back of his hand—veins protruding, joints tinged pink—and Wen Ling couldn't help recalling what those online bloggers say: "The pinker a man's joints..."

She kissed his fingertips, her eyes soft and alluring.

Zhou Yinhe instantly responded to her invitation, lifting her and pressing her onto the bed, unleashing all his uncontrollable force onto Wen Ling.

Until her strength was completely drained, exhausted to the point of near fainting, Wen Ling finally stopped thinking about that matter and collapsed into Zhou Yinhe's arms, falling into a deep sleep.

In the morning, Wen Ling was awakened by the arm around her waist tightening further; she blinked her sleepy eyes open, her long lashes trembling in the dim room, and heard the hoarse voice from behind say: "Lingling, wait a little longer."