After returning to Ning City, Ming Yue gave herself a complete makeover. She personally picked up the scissors and chopped off all her long, jet-black, silky hair in one swift snip. Her entire look—makeup, clothes, and accessories—was completely overhauled, even her little mannerisms were deliberately altered, leaving not the slightest trace of her former self. Then, she quietly slipped into a private club as a cleaner.

At work, she habitually wore a mask. Even Jiang Feng, the man who accompanied her day after day and slept by her side every night, couldn’t recognize her at first. After circling around her several times, he finally ran his hand over his chin and asked, “Is it really necessary?”

“Of course it is,” Ming Yue replied, removing her mask with a solemn expression.

Jiang Feng didn’t answer directly; instead, he held the mask in his hand and tentatively asked, “Ming Yue, do you really have to do those things yourself? We can hire someone!”

“Hire who?” Ming Yue shot back.

Without hesitation, Jiang Feng said, “Someone from my team.”

“No need,” she refused flatly.

Jiang Feng pressed again, “Why?”

“It’s my business.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to drag innocent people into this.”

“Ming Yue…”

“And besides, after suffering for so many years and enduring such immense pain and harm, I just can’t sit quietly behind the scenes and watch everything unfold. When it comes to revenge and settling scores, there’s nothing more satisfying than taking matters into my own hands and watching each and every one of them go straight to hell.”

Ming Yue spoke as if it were no big deal, as though she hadn’t given a second thought to the dangers that lay ahead. But Jiang Feng frowned deeply, constantly worrying about her safety—even though he knew full well just how powerful Ming Yue had become now. After a moment’s hesitation, he still frowned and tried to say something: “But Ming Yue…”

Ming Yue cut him off abruptly: “Stop rambling on with all that nonsense. You know, once I’ve made up my mind, nothing you say will change it. So stop wasting your breath—and stay out of here. You blink too much; that’s never a good thing when it comes to me.”

At that very moment, Ming Yue was in a private room at this club. There was no one else in the room—just him and Ming Yue, who had come in to clean.

With that, Ming Yue snatched the mask from his hand and began walking toward the exit, putting it on as she went. But before she’d even finished fastening it, Jiang Feng had already wrapped his arms around her slender waist from behind.

“Jiang Feng, what are you doing? Are you out of your mind? This isn’t home—it’s a private club! You’re not afraid of being seen, but I am!” Ming Yue puffed out her cheeks, though she didn’t struggle.

Jiang Feng didn’t rush to speak either; instead, he held Ming Yue tightly in his embrace, resting his chin on her shoulder, taking a deep breath, and pressing his soft lips against her ear as he whispered gently, “Ming Yue, please don’t wear yourself out like this. Sometimes, you can trust me.”

“Jiang Feng, let me go first,” she said softly, her voice unusually calm and gentle.

Jiang Feng didn’t release her; he kept his arm around her waist, inhaling the faint, delicate fragrance of her skin. After a brief pause, he said again, “Ming Yue, some things are best left to me. I don’t want you to be so exhausted, nor do I want you constantly teetering on the edge of danger.”

“Jiang Feng, I said—I…”

Before she could finish, Jiang Feng spun her around, pressing his soft lips firmly against hers in a brief kiss, then quickly pulled away. Yet his long arm remained wrapped around her waist, cradling her entirely in his embrace, while his large hand gently rested on her face, his fingertips brimming with tender affection as they softly caressed her small cheek.

End of Chapter 132: Counterattack 58