How could Ming Yue possibly let herself be struck without fighting back?

She had already raised one foot.

As soon as that slap dared to land on her, she would strike first—kicking the assailant clean off their feet and forcing them to painfully realize once again:

She was no longer the docile, easily manipulated “good girl” Ming Yue of yesteryear. Now, every inch of her was armed with thorns; anyone who so much as dared touch her would find themselves pierced through and through.

But…

Before she could even deliver that kick, a towering figure suddenly appeared at her side.

In the next instant, the figure lunged forward, one hand swiftly closing around her waist and lifting her into their embrace, while the other seized Ming Xia’s wrist. Their voice was cold as ice sealed in a frozen pool: “Try so much as brushing a single hair on her, and you’ll see what happens!”

“Fu… Fu…”

Ming Xia stammered, her face deathly pale, her once-aloft plump hand now limp and lifeless, like a wilted eggplant.

Fu Qiancheng let out a cold snort, jerked his hand free from her wrist, shot her a chilling glare, and growled in a low, menacing tone: “Just remember who I am. From now on, be smart both at home and out in public—know your place. Sure, she bears the surname Ming and is the daughter of your Ming Family Home, but more importantly, she’s my woman! If I ever catch you laying a finger on her again, I won’t hesitate to make sure your entire Ming Family pays a proper visit to my private club.”

“I…”

Ming Xia didn’t dare raise her head, nor did she have the courage to meet Fu Qiancheng’s gaze.

It was as if she harbored an instinctive, bone-deep fear of this man.

Fu Qiancheng, however, continued to warn her—and by extension, those hiding behind her—through her very mouth: “You can leave now! And tell the rest of your family to wise up: from now on, they’d better learn to show Yueyue the respect she deserves.”

Ming Xia remained silent.

She just kept her head bowed, secretly cursing Ming Yue under her breath.

Fu Qiancheng, too, stopped wasting words. He slipped his arm around Ming Yue’s waist and started walking forward—his steps were light, almost unsteady—but somehow, he seemed to draw strength from nowhere. Just moments ago, standing before Ming Xia, he hadn’t shown the slightest sign of weakness.

Yet as soon as he passed Ming Xia, his body suddenly began to falter. The weight that had been borne by his arm around her waist quickly shifted, until most of his strength was now resting on her instead. Even the large hand that had been clasped around her waist moved up to her shoulder.

Ming Yue sensed something was wrong and hurriedly reached out to steady him, about to ask how he was, whether he was all right, and if not, whether they should head to the Hospital.

But before she could utter a single word, Jiang Feng—the relentless ghost who never seemed to disappear—suddenly reappeared out of thin air, blocking their path. He crossed his arms and leaned casually against the wall, smiling sweetly as he fixed them with a gaze: “Well, well, well—look at this display of affection between you two! It’s practically driving everyone in the whole private club crazy!”

Ming Yue knew this guy was once again trying to needle her—or perhaps reminding her—so she rolled her eyes and retorted, “Is that so? Then why don’t you just die of embarrassment?”

Fu Qiancheng let out a soft laugh, as if approving of Ming Yue’s reply, and shot Jiang Feng a sharp retort: “Can you stop being such a sourpuss? If you want to tease someone, go ahead and tease me—don’t drag Yueyue into it. She’s not the kind of person you should be making fun of.”

“Oh, so now you’re defending her?”

“Isn’t it only natural for a man to protect his woman?”

“Of course it is.”

Jiang Feng still wore that inscrutable smile, showing no particular interest in staring at Ming Yue any longer. He simply leaned lazily against the wall.

Meanwhile, Fu Qiancheng’s hand had already returned to Ming Yue’s waist, firmly encircling her slender hips, as he addressed Jiang Feng: “If you know what’s what, then cut the pointless chatter. And stop making jokes about Yueyue from now on. She’s going to be your Sao Zi—don’t push me to the brink of a fight with you.”

End of Chapter 42: My Woman