Chapter 22
After a long, busy day, Liang Wenjun rubbed her throbbing temple.
Her assistant handed her a cup of hot tea. “Sister Wenjun, your migraines seem to be getting worse. How about finding time to get a checkup?”
“When I get some free time,” she replied absentmindedly, then frowned. “Didn’t I ask for an iced Americano?”
The assistant grinned mischievously. “Not my call—Mr. Cao insisted you shouldn’t have cold drinks anymore.”
At her husband’s name, Liang Wenjun smiled tenderly.
They’d been married for fifteen years, and though their busy schedules often kept them apart, their relationship remained strong. Cao Guangli was always mindful of her health.
The assistant, who had worked with her for years, teased her a bit more before stopping, noticing her boss rubbing her temple again. Concerned, she said, “Jie Wenjun, I’m serious. Take some time to get a checkup.”
Liang Wenjun hesitated.
At that moment, a tall, beautiful woman entered. “I could hear Xiao Huang nagging from a mile away. What’s going on?”
“Sister Ya, I’m just trying to get Jie Wenjun to have a health check!” the assistant complained.
Fu Ya, one of Liang Wenjun’s clients and a close friend of many years, took a close look at her. “Xiao Huang’s right—you don’t look great. I have some free time these days. Let me take you to the hospital.”
Liang Wenjun rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. Besides, when do you have time to spare? You’re swamped with work!”
She stood to grab some files, but as she did, she felt her body sway. Her vision went dark, and she fainted.
When she woke, she was already in the hospital.
Seeing her open her eyes, Xiao Huang exhaled in relief. “Sister Wenjun, you scared me to death! Thankfully, the doctor says there’s nothing serious—just exhaustion and a little low blood sugar.”
“I told you, I’m fine.” Liang Wenjun propped herself up slowly.
“Take this chance to get a full checkup and rest a bit.” Xiao Huang supported her, then remembered something. “Oh, should I let Mr. Cao know you’re here?”
Liang Wenjun nodded. “Yes, I should let him know.”
She was about to text him when an incoming call from an unknown number interrupted her.
When she answered, the caller said, “Hello, this is Yuan Qingqing.”
Liang Wenjun froze.
This was her private phone number, known only to close friends and family. How did Yuan Qingqing get it?
Sensing her confusion, Yuan explained, “I got your number from Yaya. But that aside—have you seen the trending news?”
Liang knew Fu Ya and Yuan Qingqing were close, so she didn’t question it. As for the trending news, she didn’t think much of it.
Hot searches were a game for newcomers, and her artists were well-established. Besides, everyone she worked with was reputable. She had no reason to worry.
Yuan, sensing her indifference, said, “It’s not about your artists; it’s about you.”
“About me?”
Liang was puzzled.
She’d always kept a low profile, so she couldn’t imagine why she’d be on trending.
But Yuan seemed serious, so she opened the trending page. And what she saw left her stunned.
Her first reaction was disbelief.
She had known Cao Guangli for over twenty years and had been married to him for fifteen. They had never even had a major argument.
Cao had always been respectful, caring, and a doting father to their daughter—the model husband and father. How could he possibly be the man in this post with a mistress, an illegitimate child, and a plot to kill her?
Suppressing her anger, she said, “Thank you for your concern, sister Qing, but I know my husband. This post is nonsense, just slander.”
Yuan understood her reaction.
If she were in Liang’s position, she’d probably react the same way.
Keeping her tone patient, Yuan said, “I’ll call you Wenjun, like Yaya does. I’m not someone who meddles unnecessarily. I reached out because I’m certain that post is true…”
Gradually calming down, Liang listened. “So, did you see or hear something specific, sister Qing?”
“No.”
Before Liang could frown, Yuan shared the story of how she’d found her daughter, guided by hints from this very blogger.
As Yuan recounted the events, Liang’s frown deepened.
If anyone else had told her this, she’d think it was a joke.
Sensing her lingering skepticism, Yuan pressed on, “Wenjun, haven’t you noticed anything off with yourself lately?”
“I…” Liang was about to deny it, then hesitated.
She’d always been healthy, but for the past six months, she’d experienced little issues. It began with poor sleep, then frequent headaches, and she’d felt more tired than usual.
She’d attributed it to aging, but now, hearing Yuan’s story, a cold chill settled over her.
Heart pounding, she ended the call with Yuan, then reopened the trending post and read it in detail.
The more she read, the more horrified she became.
Many of the details, including the timeline, lined up with her life.
The post claimed that Cao Guangli had begun poisoning her six months ago, using a small, undetectable dose in everyday items.
Liang suddenly recalled that it was around six months ago when Cao started buying her health supplements. She’d often forget to take them, and he’d even scolded her a few times for it.
Once a seed of doubt was planted, no matter how she tried to tell herself he couldn’t be that kind of man, her body betrayed her mind: “Xiao Huang, please go to my house and bring Yueyue here. And bring my supplements as well.”
Xiao Huang, sensing something serious from her boss’s uncharacteristically stern tone, didn’t ask questions and left immediately.
When Xiao Huang returned with Liang’s daughter, Cao Xinyue, Liang had already called in a testing agency and a lawyer.
Five-year-old Yueyue, with her round, chubby cheeks, seemed to sense her mother’s tension. She planted a big kiss on her, saying, “Mommy, Yueyue kiss! Pain, pain, go away!”
Holding her daughter, Liang’s heart softened, then steeled itself even more.
She turned to Xiao Huang. “Did you bring the supplements?”
Xiao Huang, still a bit clueless, nodded and handed over a bag.
Liang looked at it, confirming it was what she’d been taking. She handed the bag to the testing staff and then spoke to the lawyer. “I want to make a will. If I should pass unexpectedly, I want all my shares and assets to go to my daughter…”
Just then, her phone rang. The caller was Cao Guangli.
Liang hesitated but didn’t pick up, continuing her instructions to the lawyer.
The phone rang persistently three or four more times, but Liang ignored it until her will was finalized.
After the lawyer left, Cao Guangli finally burst into the hospital room, sweating and looking frantic. “Wenjun! Are you okay?”
Seeing the familiar face of her husband, Liang did not smile as she normally would. Instead, she instinctively held her daughter closer.
Inwardly, Cao cursed, but he put on an indignant expression and said, “You must’ve seen the trending post. I don’t know who’s out to get me, but I don’t care about others. We’ve been married for so many years. Don’t you trust me?”
Liang stayed silent.
Cao’s eyes widened. “Wenjun, you’re actually believing strangers over your own husband?”
Looking hurt, he stormed out of the room.
Liang wavered slightly at his reaction.
But no matter her doubts, she had to see this through to the end.
*
The moment Cao left the hospital room, his face twisted with fury.
He knew his wife well; once she suspected something, she wouldn’t stop until she found out the truth.
What he couldn’t understand was how his carefully hidden plans had been exposed online.
He called his assistant. “Have you found out what’s going on?”
The assistant hesitated. “It seems the young master tried to take down a trainee but got hit with a counterattack by one of his fans.”
Cao Guangli: “???”
What nonsense.
The assistant explained, “The young master’s show, [Boy Group Training Camp], has a trainee named Meng Yuansheng. There’s a rumor that this ‘Gossip System #10086’ account is a fan of his. The account is well-connected, knows many secrets in the industry, and has advanced tech skills. Many people have tried to find out who’s behind it, but no one has succeeded…”
To Cao, it all sounded ridiculous.
But here he was, living through the consequences of it.
Barely containing his anger, he growled, “So you’re saying Ji Yiwei was targeted by this fan account? How?”
The assistant recounted how Ji had paid for smear campaigns against Meng Yuansheng to climb to first place.
Hearing this, Cao’s temples throbbed.
He’d sent Ji Yiwei to [Boy Group Training Camp] as a pretense to bring him back to China, letting him enjoy a stint in the entertainment world.
He’d never expected that after years of careful planning, on the verge of success, Ji would throw it all away by competing for a mere spotlight.
Blood pressure spiking, Cao’s vision went dark.
They were right—you should never fear a skilled opponent as much as an incompetent ally!
At that moment, a delicate-looking woman burst in, her face tear-streaked. “Guangli, our son…”
This was Cao Guangli’s mistress, Ji Yurou.
Fury distorting his face, Cao slapped her hard.
Ji Yurou clutched her face, staring at him in disbelief. “Guangli, did you just hit me?!”
He’d once treated her as a goddess, but now, all he felt was loathing.
“All you two ever do is ruin things! If he wasn’t so spoiled, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”
???? This piece of crap ?
Trash