Chapter 95: Better to Believe in Ghosts Than to Trust a Man's Honeyed Words

“It must be some nerve acting up again.” Lin Yang spread his hands in helplessness. He still hadn’t figured out what was wrong with the girl. The moment he returned, she interrogated him about where he’d been fooling around, then turned on her heel and stormed off. Now she’d locked herself in her room, sulking and crying her eyes out, and he had no idea what had set her off.

Rolling her eyes at Lin Yang, whose mouth ran like a foul wind, Zhang Qiqi reached out and knocked gently on the door, calling softly, “Nini, open up, come on, open the door. Tell your sister who’s bullied you, I’ll help you get even.” As she spoke, she shot Lin Yang a few pointed glances.

Under the scrutiny of those suspicious eyes, Lin Yang felt thoroughly uncomfortable. He sighed inwardly—women’s imaginations really were too wild. What did this have to do with him? Even the police need evidence to arrest someone; there was no reason to look at him like that with no proof at all.

“That’s right! Nini, open the door. If you’re upset, Aunt Qin will stand up for you.” Seeing that her daughter’s knocking was getting nowhere, Su Qin couldn’t stay calm either, stepping forward to call out.

From inside the room, the sobbing only grew louder. Lin Yang was certain that if the girl kept crying like this, even if they weren’t drowned by her tears, she herself might just cry herself to death.

“Leave me alone! Go away, all of you!” Ni Ni choked out stubbornly, then hurled her Venetian toy from the bed at the door.

Damn it, this was getting ridiculous. Already burdened by trivial matters, Lin Yang was finally losing his patience. If she was upset, why couldn’t she just say so? Did she have to keep crying endlessly? Was it easy for him to deal with all this? He’d hoped to get some rest after coming back, but now she was practically picking a fight out of nowhere.

Lin Yang was hardly the epitome of patience, especially when it came to the girl’s baseless tantrums. His temper flared and, unable to hold back, he strode up and gave the door a savage kick.

With a thunderous crash, the thick door burst open, the lock clattering to the floor—a testament to the force of his anger.

He strode to the bed and roughly yanked the blanket off the girl’s head. Staring at the little one, her face awash with tears, he snapped irritably, “What on earth is the matter? Say something! Why make such a fuss over nothing? Don’t you realize Uncle Feng needs peace and quiet to recover?”

His outburst stunned Ni Ni into silence. It was as if a wad of cotton had lodged in her throat, blocking any further tears. She simply stared at Lin Yang, her big, beautiful eyes brimming with aggrieved sorrow, unable to utter a sound.

“Xiao Yang, what are you doing? You’ll scare her!” Su Qin stepped forward, pulling the angry Lin Yang aside and rebuking him sharply before moving to comfort the girl with a mother’s love.

The three of them, each taking their turn, finally coaxed the reason out of her.

When Lin Yang heard the cause of her distress, his eyes blazed with murderous rage.

“Damn it, that bastard from the Jiang family is asking for trouble. Still not giving up, even resorting to threats? Next time I see him, I’ll teach him a lesson he won’t forget.”

As it turned out, Ni Ni had been woken early that morning by a call from her worthless father. Reluctantly answering, she was once again met with family pressure to marry, along with the threat that if she refused, her uncles would drive her twelve-year-old brother out of the house—a clear ultimatum.

Ever since her mother’s death, her brother, Tianyu, had been her only family. She never acknowledged her father’s existence; her brother was all she cared about. Now, with him being used as leverage, it struck the most vulnerable chord in her heart.

Upon hearing this infuriating news, she’d wanted to seek comfort from Lin Yang, only to find his room empty when she got up that morning. Alone and full of grievances, she quietly shed tears before anyone else was awake. Just as she’d finally calmed down, Lin Yang’s return had reignited her turmoil, leading to the entire sequence of events that followed.

Women—sometimes they’re a mystery. Wanting comfort, yet hiding when the very person returns.

After their persistent coaxing, Ni Ni finally managed a wan smile, her mood much improved. With her calmed, Lin Yang, exhausted, yawned repeatedly, his eyes drooping as sleep overtook him.

Leaving Zhang Qiqi to keep Ni Ni company, he checked his phone—eight o’clock. He could still catch a nap, so he headed straight for his bedroom.

He fell into bed and slept soundly until the alarm’s shrill ringing finally woke him. With Ni Ni still in a foul mood, Lin Yang left for work alone.

As usual, he treated his four patients, the day passing swiftly. Yet his mind was heavy. Ni Ni’s troubles were indeed thorny—after all, he was just an outsider, and it wasn’t his place to interfere in another family’s affairs. If the Cold family’s uncles hadn’t barged into his home and crossed the line, he wouldn’t have had any excuse to get involved at all.

Added to this were Zhang Qiqi’s own worries and Zhang Zifeng’s precarious health—like a ticking time bomb that could go off at any moment. No wonder Lin Yang felt so weighed down. What troubled him most, though, was the three o’clock ad shoot. He still couldn’t figure out why a woman with a well-known aversion to men would so resolutely choose him—a stranger she’d met only once—as her male co-star.

Around half-past one, with his work nearly done, Lin Yang left the hospital, handing off the remaining matters to his secretary, the nurse Liu Meng, and headed straight for Baifu Pharmaceuticals.

That morning, he’d rushed to review the proposal, and since the female model had the final say over the choice of second lead, he’d been dragged into this at the last minute. He hadn’t even glanced at the ad script—he wasn’t a professional actor, and the thought of filming a commercial left him feeling immense pressure.

His fondness for fast driving had become a habit—maybe it was a thrill young people everywhere sought, and Lin Yang was no exception. He parked at a small restaurant near Baifu Pharmaceuticals, figuring he’d better eat before work.

The place was tiny but well situated, right at a busy crossroads, with Baifu Pharmaceuticals just down the southern street. Seated by the glass wall, Lin Yang could clearly see the entrance to Baifu Pharmaceuticals.

At the next table sat two men in black suits, their faces so utterly forgettable and bland that no one would look twice. After ordering his meal, Lin Yang waited, his gaze wandering idly.

Soon enough, the furtive conversation and suspicious behavior of the two men caught his attention. Their voices were low, but Lin Yang, with his keen senses, heard them clearly.

“Fishhead, isn’t it miserable, us having to stake out here every day? Meanwhile those other guys are having the time of their lives,” grumbled the buzz-cut man in black, his back to Lin Yang.

“Hmph, Mantis, quit complaining. These are extraordinary times. If we mess up Young Master Fang’s big plans, we’ll be in deep trouble. Stay sharp—if we miss anything crucial, we won’t be able to face the music,” said the monkey-faced man across from Lin Yang, his eyes sharp and predatory as he glanced toward Baifu Pharmaceuticals’ entrance.

Chastised, the man behind Lin Yang straightened up, his gaze now fixed on the building’s glass doors.

Their shifty behavior only piqued Lin Yang’s curiosity further. The earlier conversation reeked of conspiracy, and given the mention of “Young Master Fang,” he immediately suspected the Fang family of Fangyu Pharmaceuticals.

If he were to leave now and head for the building, he’d surely arouse their suspicion. Fortunately, there was still time, so he decided to observe a while longer and see what they were up to.

“They’re coming! There—those two women at the entrance. Quick, get the camera!” the monkey-faced man suddenly exclaimed in a hushed, urgent tone.

Lin Yang, glancing casually at the glass doors, saw Bai Jing and Dong Yingying walking out together from the building.

The two men beside him, using a miniature camera, snapped photos. The faint flash was barely noticeable at that distance, so the women didn’t detect it.

“Fishhead, is this really what Young Master Fang wants us to do? Just take photos of them?” asked the buzz-cut man as he worked, clearly puzzled.

The two of them had been assigned this sudden task, staking out the building like paparazzi, only to find their targets were two beautiful women. While they admitted the view was pleasant, the inability to get any closer made it all the more frustrating.

“Hmph, just do your job, Mantis! If we pull this off, we’ll finally make it big. Not only will the young master reward us handsomely, but we might even get promoted. So let’s step it up and collect information on everyone Bai’s girl has been seeing lately—the young master plans to take down the Bai family in one blow,” said the monkey-faced man with a greedy glint in his eye, visions of wealth dancing before him.

Lin Yang, pretending to eat, listened attentively. He was now certain that the mastermind was none other than Fang Tianyu, the spoiled scion of the Fang family—whom Lin Yang himself had taught a harsh lesson to before, knocking out two of the man’s front teeth. In his mind, that punishment had been far too lenient.

But for now, he’d deal with these two sneaks while he had the chance.

...

At the entrance of the building, Bai Jing and Dong Yingying paced anxiously, eyes scanning the street.

Bai Jing glanced at her phone—it was three o’clock already, and there was still no sign of Lin Yang. She muttered fretfully, “Where is that Xiao Yang? He’s driving me mad.”

Dong Yingying, runner-up in the new model contest, had a packed schedule. Bai Jing had gone to considerable effort to secure her for this shoot, and as the seconds ticked by, her anxiety grew.

Showing up late for a first collaboration would only worsen Lin Yang’s impression in Dong Yingying’s eyes, already tarnished by her man-phobia. As Bai Jing fretted, Dong Yingying gave a cold snort. “I’d sooner believe in ghosts than in a man’s empty promises.”