Another few days passed.

Ming Yue was out early and back late, quickly becoming one of the most punctual and diligent employees at the club.

Yet neither the Ming Family Home nor the Liu family home seemed to notice. Especially Liu Fan—he had already brushed past Ming Yue countless times, yet he never once suspected a thing, let alone recognized her. Every day he simply went in and out, arm in arm with a different beautiful woman, utterly blissful.

Meanwhile, Ming Yue couldn’t help but secretly chuckle as she watched his back.

As for what exactly she was laughing about, only she knew.

That day, Ming Yue was again tidying up in the hallway when she happened to run into Liu Fan, who was walking over with a voluptuous, fiery-figured woman in his arms. Under her mask, the corner of Ming Yue’s mouth couldn’t help but curve into a faint smile.

“What are you staring at? You filthy janitor—blocking my way! Get lost!” Liu Fan reached out to shove Ming Yue, though in truth she wasn’t blocking his path at all; there was still a full person’s width between them, and she was standing off to the side.

Ming Yue didn’t make a sound—not even lifting her head. She just lowered it obediently, making way with a meek “yes, yes,” while the corner of her mouth beneath the mask curled into an unusually lovely smile, like a flower that could ensnare one’s very soul, blooming brilliantly.

Only after that arrogant brat had walked far away did she slowly raise her head. “You stinking janitor, huh? Liu—you’d better remember this stinking janitor well. Last time I didn’t manage to kill you, but this time your little mistress will make sure you’re buried without a grave! Just you wait—the real fun is still ahead. Don’t be impatient; I’m going to keep your dog-like life around so I can savor it slowly!”

Having finished speaking to herself, she lowered her head again. This time, however, she didn’t busily continue her work—instead, she quietly slipped into a hidden spot and softly said to one of the men Jiang Feng had left for her, “Dong Zi, it’s time.”

“Got it.”

The man called Dong Zi replied.

He wore the club’s black uniform, with a delicate face and a youthful appearance—no older than Xiao Hu, perhaps even younger. Yet his handsome features carried an extra touch of innocence, as if he were a fresh college graduate just entering society.

Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out a tiny, pale-yellow pill about the size of a soybean, spread it on the palm of his hand, and asked Ming Yue, “Sister, are we really supposed to feed him the whole thing?”

“No need.”

Ming Yue glanced at it, immediately took the pill, snapped it in half, tucked one half into her own pocket, and handed the other half back to Dong Zi, saying lightly, “This should do.”

“Just this much?” Dong Zi hesitated for a moment, clearly doubting the potency of that half-pill. He murmured, “I’m afraid it won’t be enough. After he takes it, at best he’ll just be overly energetic or end up in the hospital—but he won’t die.”

“Are you stupid?”

Ming Yue slightly curved her index and middle fingers, then gently tapped Dong Zi’s forehead with the backs of those two fingers.

“Ouch!” Dong Zi’s handsome face flushed faintly, and he stood there in a daze, staring blankly at the woman who had just tapped his forehead for the first time in his life, while his other hand instinctively touched the spot where he’d been hit.

It didn’t hurt.

In fact, it felt rather strange.

Ming Yue curled her lips and sighed softly, “How could Jiang Feng possibly trust you enough to let you go out and do this? If that bastard really gets too excited and dies, won’t someone find out? Do you want to be the one locked up, or do you think I should be the one locked up?”

“Oh, oh, oh…”

Dong Zi finally came to his senses.

Seeing how worried she was, Ming Yue took the pill right out of his palm. “Forget it—I’ll deliver it myself. No point in dragging you into trouble again.”

End of Chapter 138: Counterattack 64