Chapter 66: Volume 1, Chapter 66: Ferocious Alpha x Gentle Soft Beauty Omega (6)

After the last dish was placed on the table, the male beta waiter's gaze unintentionally fell on the girl's face, and he stared blankly for a long time.

"Get lost!"

An icy, gloomy voice sounded from the side; the waiter snapped back to attention, and upon meeting the youth's piercing gaze, he hurriedly apologized and left.

"Jing Cang?" Her thoughts shifted from the colorful, flavorful dishes to the abnormal youth beside her; Jiang Zhi glanced at him and asked puzzled, "What's wrong with you?"

Just a moment ago, how did he become angry? Could it be that he discovered her sneaking a bite earlier?

The more she thought, the guiltier Jiang Zhi felt; her raven-black lashes fluttered like butterfly wings, and the slender white fingers resting on her legs tightened slightly as she couldn't help but whisper:

"I didn't, I didn't mean to steal food; I was just too hungry, so I took a bite early."

The anger in Jing Cang's heart seemed to be extinguished by a basin of clear water; he glanced sideways at the guilty, flustered girl, and the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly.

"I'm just having an episode; you eat yours."

At the instant the waiter's gaze landed on the girl's face, Jing Cang almost lost control and wanted to kill him.

That killing intent was even more tumultuous than when he was on the battlefield.

He would not allow anyone other than himself to harbor thoughts about the girl.

As if the thought were deeply engraved in the marrow of his soul.

Jiang Zhi thought he was joking; she softened the corners of her eyes, her unusual expression faded, and a hint of a smile appeared.

"Mm."

The meal ended.

For most of the time, Jing Cang was on the phone; not knowing who he was speaking with, the youth kept a cold, stern expression throughout, his long fingers seeming as if they would crush the phone at any moment.

Jiang Zhi wanted to go to the restroom, but fearing to disturb him, she quietly left the private room.

After stepping out of the private room, she glanced around blankly, catching a glimpse of a waiter's silhouette in her peripheral vision, and hurried over to speak to him.

"Hey, hello, could you tell me how to get to the restroom?"

The waiters in this restaurant are all betas, with excellent attitudes; they deliberately led her to the restroom.

After she finished using the restroom and came out, she realized she couldn't find her way back.

She also forgot something important.

She hadn't noted the private room number, so even if she asked a waiter, it would be useless.

Worse still, her phone was left in her bag, which she hadn't brought out, making it impossible to contact Jing Cang.

"Stupid." She scratched her head, blaming herself endlessly.

She could only rely on her vague, hazy memory to walk back.

After walking windingly for an unknown amount of time, a drunkard staggered toward her from not far away.

Jiang Zhi tried to avoid them, turning to hide, but the drunkard had already spotted her; before she could leave, he strode up to her and blocked her path.

"Beautiful lady, where are you going?" The drunkard had a head of dark brown short hair, wore a flamboyant blue suit, was fairly handsome, his brown hair combed back, revealing a pair of ill-intentioned eyes.

He examined her from head to toe, finally resting his gaze on the snow-white, jade-like lower half of her calves beneath her skirt; her figure was slender and graceful, her visage stunningly beautiful. It's just a pity she's a beta; if she were an omega, how wonderful that would be.

The drunkard licked the corner of his mouth, smiled lecherously, and approached, saying, "You're a waiter here, right? Come, help me, help me to the private room."

He had observed her for a long time; a girl this beautiful walking back and forth in the hallway couldn't be anything but a waiter.

Jiang Zhi disliked his gaze; her fingers nervously clenched the hem of her skirt, forcing a calm voice that trembled slightly as she explained:

"I'm not a waiter."

The drunkard didn't care whether she was a waiter; he stepped forward and wanted to touch her hands, as smooth as mutton-fat jade.

Before he could make contact, her wrist shot with intense pain.

"Crack!"

It was the sound of a bone breaking.

The drunkard let out a miserable scream, stumbling backward, as that person dragged him up and hung him on the luxurious spiral staircase, over sixty stories high; if he fell, death would be certain.

"Do you want to die?" the youth said, his posture tall and slender, standing at the edge of the spiral staircase, one hand gripping the drunkard's collar, his voice casual yet chilling to the bone.

In the drunkard's eyes, the newcomer looked like a terrifying hellish demon; he was so frightened he lost control of his bladder, his intoxication mostly faded, and he spoke in panic:

"No! Don't kill me! Young Master Jing! Please, I dare not do it again—I beg you, don't kill me!"

The drunkard knew Jing Cang's nature well—he kills without blinking, cold-blooded and ruthless, infamous as Hell's Weapon.

"I'll grant your wish." Jing Cang's fingers, clenched around his collar, slowly loosened; his eyes, deep as an abyss, gazed at him without warmth, ignoring his pleas.

Before he fully released his grip, Jiang Zhi hurried to his back, slightly raised her pale cheek, and gently tugged at his garment with her slender white fingers.

"Jing Cang, don't kill him."

Her eyes were tinged with fearful red, her delicate brows slightly furrowed, her voice flustered and anxious.

Jing Cang gazed deeply at her face and said in a low voice, "He wanted to hurt you."

A soft, warm smile curled at Jiang Zhi's lips as she earnestly replied, "He hasn't hurt me yet."

Finally she added indignantly, "He can't hurt me either; I'm quite formidable."

Killing isn't a good thing. Not only would it bring him much trouble, but it would also cause others to continue misunderstanding him as a bad person.

After spending this day with him, Jiang Zhi realized that Jing Cang wasn't as bad as people said.

Jing Cang paused abruptly, her smile lingering at the corner of her lips for a long while; after a moment, he expressionlessly released his hand, coldly looking at the drunkard collapsed on the ground, his tone pierced with bone-chilling cold.

"Hide yourself well; don't let me see you again."

The drunkard, not caring about anything else, kowtowed in thanks and scrambled away, crawling and running.

Jing Cang turned, seized her wrist in one grip, and brought her back to the private room.

The atmosphere was heavy and oppressive, filled with a subtle, pervasive chill.

Jiang Zhi choked back a sound, her eyes reddened from holding back tears, she stood helplessly in place for two seconds, and couldn't help but whisper an apology:

Yes, sorry.

She shouldn't have been wandering around.

Jing Cang drew a deep breath, inhaling the girl's faint peach-blossom scent along with the air into his lungs.

His brows and eyes betrayed his violent emotions, his thin lips pressed slightly, and he curled a cold smile:

"Now you know to apologize? You sneaked out—do you even know how to get around here? If you got lost, who would come looking for you?"

He was already irritated by that phone call from his grandfather; after hanging up and turning around, the whole private room was left with only him, while the girl had vanished somewhere.

He searched everywhere, and when he found her, he saw that scene.

Even a worthless person dares to covet him.

Anyone who dares to covet him deserves to die. That drunkard is no exception, but he doesn't want to kill in front of the girl.

Jiang Zhi had just experienced all that, then heard his harsh lecture; her voice dropped, and she tried to hide the hurt she couldn't conceal.

"I wanted to go to the restroom, but seeing you on the phone, I didn't want to disturb you, so I went by myself."

Jing Cang's fury instantly melted away, the gloom in his brows cleared completely, his eyes filled with her face, and he said softly:

"Don't run around like that next time."

As soon as the words fell,

"Plop"

A tear dropped onto the floor; the girl's fear hadn't subsided, thinking she had angered him again, she felt especially guilty, and the tears filling her dark eyes fell uncontrollably.

"Sorry."

Jing Cang froze in place for a few seconds, his slightly raised hand frozen midair, at a loss and betraying a faint, barely perceptible panic.