WMSR — QT Chapter 76

Chapter 76

Right now, he was still far too weak. Give him two years—just two years—and he would ensure that the relationship between himself and Ziqian would never again be subjected to any threat whatsoever.

From that day onward, everything seemed to return to its ordinary, tranquil rhythm, save for the fact that Xu Jiangzhe had acquired a new, obligatory task that required him to go out and play along every other day.

Naturally, he kept this enterprise locked away in absolute secrecy from Bai Yichen, exercising such meticulous caution that prior to every single meeting with Qiao Qianqian, he would deliberately change into a fresh set of clothes. Upon returning to his corporate office afterward, he would take a thorough shower, change back into the exact attire he had worn when leaving home, and only then drive back to the villa.

Though Xu Jiangzhe rationally understood that Ziqian likely wouldn't care whether his clothes carried an unfamiliar trace of perfume or a stray female hair, he remained stubbornly obsessive—behaving precisely like an unfaithful husband frantically scrubbing away evidence to elude his wife's cross-examination, fully dedicated to eradicating any conceivable trace of a spider's thread or horse's track.

Equally, he harbored a permanent resolution never to let Ziqian discover the existence of that woman. This arrangement was an inherent error born entirely from his present lack of absolute power. Once he grew sufficiently powerful, that mistake would be eradicated so thoroughly that not even a shadow would remain. Therefore, Ziqian had zero reason to ever waste a single moment of emotional energy fretting over such a triviality from start to finish.

Author's Note: Xu Jiangzhe: Just wait a few years and blah blah blah...

Little Angels: You're already cold in the ground, buddy (hahaha).

And please believe me: deep down, every single day, I possess an earnest, burning desire to mass-update six chapters at once!

Chapter 38: The Caged White Moonlight (15)

Though Xu Jiangzhe maintained his routine schedule of mandatory rendezvous with Qiao Qianqian, his obsessive fixation on Bai Yichen failed to dip by even a fraction. In fact, burdened by the guilt of what felt like a persistent, inevitable betrayal, the moment his daily 'dates' concluded, he invariably spent extended stretches glued to the surveillance feeds of Bai Yichen to soothe his conscience.

As a direct consequence of this cycle, the hours he spent staring at the surveillance monitors actually eclipsed his previous personal highs.

Yet it was precisely because of this hyper-frequent monitoring that Xu Jiangzhe abruptly caught sight of certain actions performed by the caregiver he had hired to tend to Ziqian that struck a raw, intensely irritating nerve.

The source of his annoyance wasn't that the caregiver was performing his duties with poor execution—had the man been incompetent, he would have been booted out the door long ago. If anything, the core problem lay in the fact that the man was operating with too much dedication.

If an outside observer had caught wind of Xu Jiangzhe's internal critique, their instantaneous reaction would have been to diagnose him with clinical insanity. Faulting a nurse for poor performance was justifiable, but picking microscopic bones because a nurse was too attentive crossed straight into absurd territory.

Yet Xu Jiangzhe sat with his brows knitted into a hard, rigid knot, locking his burning gaze onto the office monitor without shifting away for an uncomfortably long stretch. The scene playing out across the display captured Ziqian leaning back against the headboard, having drifted into a deep sleep while reading, accompanied by a second figure stepping quietly forward holding a lightweight blanket.

That dull-witted, rustic-looking employee—projecting the exact same earthy, unpolished presentation etched into his memory—was currently advancing with slow, measured footsteps. He had shortened his stride, bent his torso forward, and calibrated every micro-movement with extreme, trembling care, driven by an obvious, gentle desire to avoid startling the sleeping man awake as he draped the thin blanket over Ziqian's shoulders.

Through the high-definition, premium-grade camera lenses Xu Jiangzhe had purchased at exorbitant cost, he could practically palpate through the screen the profound sense of precious reverence saturating every single delicate, calculated motion—treating the sleeping youth as though he were an impossibly fragile, priceless heirloom that demanded the utmost protection.

A visceral surge of territory-invasion rage instantly detonated inside Xu Jiangzhe, driving him to violently yank at the tie strangling his collar. Fixing an ice-cold, murderous glare upon the screen, a dark thought crystallized: A mere hired caregiver brought in to do manual labor—who the hell does he think he is? Since when does my Ziqian need some pathetic nobody to dote on him? Does he actually think he's qualified?

That wave of sudden agitation left Xu Jiangzhe utterly incapable of focusing on his professional duties. After rewinding and re-watching the recorded clip twice with a deep scowl etched across his face, he ultimately snatched up his jacket and decided to knock off work early.

Xu Jiangzhe's unexpected early return threw Bai Yichen into a state of profound shock, leaving him utterly baffled as to what prompted this sudden schedule disruption.

Upon walking back through the front doors, however, Xu Jiangzhe acted as though he had swallowed some toxic compound; his eyes remained locked in a laser-focused, antagonistic stare directly fixed upon the caregiver, Wang Dazhi.

Xu Jiangzhe's targeted hostility was so blindingly transparent that even Bai Yichen couldn't help breaking out in a cold sweat, secretly spinning frantic hypotheses. Had Wang Dazhi's true identity been exposed? Over recent days, through the fragmented, cryptic exchanges of information passed between them, Bai Yichen had firmly concluded that Wang Dazhi was indeed an operative dispatched to extract him, and had even pieced together a working theory regarding his true identity. Yet he never anticipated that at such a critical, delicate juncture, Xu Jiangzhe would pull an unannounced early return and exhibit this level of paranoid suspicion.

Faced with Xu Jiangzhe's heavy, oppressive scrutiny, Wang Dazhi maintained a remarkably steady, unshakeable composure—demonstrated by the fact that he didn't allow a single crack to show in his facade. He deliberately sustained his signature rustic, slow-witted aura, amplifying his physical posture into an expression of even greater nervousness, docility, and awkward bewilderment under the employer's unblinking gaze.

That display of frantic, unpolished, bumpkin-like helplessness played out in front of Xu Jiangzhe and Bai Yichen with flawless execution. Suddenly, whether struck by some realization or simply amused by the pathetic spectacle, Xu Jiangzhe's tense, defensive posture slowly melted. A subtle smirk of amused disdain curled the corners of his lips, and the oppressive low-pressure atmosphere blanketing his entire frame began to recede.

Observing Wang Dazhi's utter lack of sophistication, Xu Jiangzhe experienced a sudden wave of mental clarity, realizing how utterly humiliating it was for him to experience jealousy over a pathetic creature like this. Furthermore, regardless of whatever covert fantasies the caregiver might harbor deep inside his skull, Ziqian could never possibly lower his standards to look at a man like that. Xu Jiangzhe cast a subtle, untraceable side-glance toward Ziqian sitting in the nearby wheelchair, comforted by the realization that Ziqian had just witnessed this utterly unappealing, bumpkin display firsthand, which immediately elevated his mood to a lighter register.

At that moment, he reasoned that squabbling with such an insignificant ant was a complete waste of energy. Since this particular caregiver grated against his eyes, he could simply boot him out onto the street. However, recruiting a secure, fully vetted replacement caregiver presented a tedious logistical headache; Wang Dazhi's background—tied down by a fatal leverage point that guaranteed absolute control—had been extraordinarily difficult to source. Finding another pawn matching those precise specifications would demand considerable legwork.

Should I, Xu Jiangzhe thought with a slight frown, reluctantly keep him around for a bit longer?

Factoring in Wang Dazhi's ailing father—whose heavy medical bills still depended entirely on financial lifelines controlled by his employer—alongside the omnipresent surveillance cameras blanketing every square inch of the interior architecture, he harbored zero fear of the man pulling off any unauthorized stunts. If worst came to worst, he could simply issue a standing order instructing an extra bodyguard to tail Wang Dazhi every single second he performed his tasks. Regardless of the minor inconveniences, that path remained infinitely superior to instantly firing him without a replacement, which would force those heavy-handed, clumsy bodyguards to step in and manage Ziqian's personal care.