Chapter 19: He's So Handsome When He Fights!

“Hmph... I don’t believe it!”
Chen Mian staggered to his feet. “You must be the bodyguard this woman hired. Listen, she’s my girlfriend. Whatever happens between us, you better not interfere!”

“Crack—”

Before Chen Mian could reach for Song Xi, the man grabbed his hand and twisted it behind his back.

“Ah...”

The sound of breaking bones mingled with the man’s agonized scream, piercing the air.

His hand had been broken!

Song Xi’s eyes widened behind them. This guy was terrifyingly strong! No empty threats, just action!

So handsome too.

Only after Chen Mian dared not move his hand again did Jing Zhuo release him, pulling a card from his pocket and tossing it in front of him.

“The password is six sixes. Use it at the hospital for medical expenses.”

“Stay away from my wife. If I see you dare to bother her again, I’ll cripple your legs.”

Without another glance at Chen Mian, Jing Zhuo took Song Xi by the hand and got into the car.

The Bentley rolled past the wailing man, moving away calmly and steadily.

Watching the disheveled figure disappear into the distance through the rearview mirror, Song Xi slowly recovered from her shock.

An ex showing up and being confronted by her current husband—this was quite a cliché and also awkward. She felt she should explain.

“Well, that man just now was my ex. We dated for three years but broke up two months ago.”

“Mm.” Jing Zhuo replied briefly.

Hmm? That was it?

Song Xi couldn’t read his expression but sensed he wasn’t pleased.

Understandable—her background was complicated, her romantic history messy, and she wasn’t as wealthy as him.

Jing Zhuo must have heard everything Chen Mian said earlier.

He must be regretting it.

With kindness, Song Xi started, “If you can’t accept it, we can—”

“If he bothers you again, report it immediately, then call me right away.”

Jing Zhuo suddenly interjected, turning his head to glance at her seriously during a red light.

“And don’t keep bringing up that hurtful word ‘divorce’ anymore.”

Huh?

Song Xi was momentarily stunned.

So he only found the word ‘divorce’ hurtful.

He wasn’t regretting, nor thinking about divorce.

It was all in her head.

A weight lifted from Song Xi’s heart.

But if there were no feelings left, why was he more averse to divorce than she was?

Strange.

Back at the penthouse, the room’s decor was very different from that morning.

A pair of pale pink slippers sat neatly in the shoe cabinet, a bag rack was added near the entrance, several green plants brightened the living room, and a vase of red roses adorned the dining table.

The touches of color brought vitality to the whole space.

Opening her suitcase and putting things into the bedroom wardrobe, Song Xi noticed a row of women’s sleepwear hanging inside—silk, cotton, robes—various styles, occupying half the space, perfectly arranged alongside his sleepwear.

She was momentarily stunned.

Had Jing Zhuo prepared all this this afternoon?

“Time was tight. I didn’t have time to make you a dedicated closet, so you’ll have to make do for now,” Jing Zhuo apologized from behind.

Make do?

Not at all!

This treatment was quite excellent.

Grateful, Song Xi hung her clothes piece by piece, soon blending them seamlessly with his.

Her side was colorful and varied.

His side was a simple row of suits, ties, and white shirts, all in black and white.

At a glance, it truly felt like home.

She remembered when she was a child, her parents’ closet looked just like this—her father always in suits, her mother with an array of beautiful dresses.

They each had their half and often matched outfits when going out for various occasions.

Closing the cabinet door, Song Xi let out a long sigh.

Mom, Dad, it seems... I have a home now too.

When she stepped out, the main lights in the living room were off, leaving only a small patch of warm orange light by the floor-to-ceiling window.

Candles flickered on the dining table, elegant dishes were neatly arranged, and two glasses of red wine gleamed under the candlelight.

“What’s this?”

“A candlelight dinner.”

Jing Zhuo pulled out a chair for her with impeccable gentlemanly manners. “Congratulations, Mrs. Jing, on moving into our new home.”

“Our” and “new home”—the intimacy of those words made Song Xi’s eyes glisten.

“Thank you, Jing Zhuo.”

“You’re my wife, not my roommate. No need to say thanks for these little things.”

Pressing her gently into the chair, Jing Zhuo took up the knife and fork, carefully cutting the steak into small pieces before placing the plate in front of her.

Song Xi took a bite of the freshly cooked steak and asked,

“You made all this?”

“Mm.”

“How do you know how to cook?”

“My elders said a man who can’t cook will be disliked by his wife in the future, so I learned some skills ahead of time.”

Yet he had made exactly her favorite flavor.

“We really are fated,” Song Xi mused. “I used to eat this kind of steak at my best friend’s house. The cooking was top-notch—the right timing and ingredients. Her housekeeper, Aunt Wang, was amazing. You’re just as good as her.”

Hearing her praise, Jing Zhuo’s lips curled slightly.

No one knew he had learned this steak recipe from Aunt Wang, practicing for a whole month.

He’d ruined the kitchen once, burned his hands twice, wasted over a hundred steaks that even the dog wouldn’t eat.

But finally, she was able to taste it.

In a good mood, Song Xi even drank a little wine during dinner.

She was slightly tipsy.

With the alcohol loosening her courage, she gazed at the man’s sharp, distinguished face across the flickering candlelight.

So handsome.

Especially his brows and eyes—clean, precise, familiar—etched deeply in her heart.

Resting her chin on her hand, she suddenly said, “You look just like my best friend. Your eyes and brows are exactly the same. No wonder I always feel so close to you, like I want to snuggle.”

“Could you be the brother she lost outside?”