"There is no way in hell that I, Lao Zhan, will become your slave. Wasn't it just two drops of beer in your juice? It didn't kill you, did it?" he said boldly, folding his arms across his chest with that same smug expression I hated.
"Okay," I replied calmly, standing up from the hospital bed and walking out of the room without even glancing back.
"She just said okay… then left?" he muttered to himself, watching the door swing shut behind me. "That's not like her. She wouldn't let something like this go that easily. What is that satan up to now?" His hand found his waist, confusion painting his features as he tried to piece together my sudden change of attitude.
But I was already gone—and already planning. If he didn't want to agree the easy way, I'd make him come crawling the hard way.
I called a hit on him. Not a real one—just a staged one to shake him up. A harmless scare. I wanted to give him a taste of fear, just enough to force him to reconsider my deal. I offered him mercy, and he spat on it. So now, I'd watch him beg.
Back at his house, I made myself a snack, humming as I moved around the kitchen. I didn't want to miss the performance I orchestrated. [It's only a matter of time before that arrogant bastard comes crawling on his knees, begging me to call off the hit.] The thought alone made a satisfied grin stretch across my face.
Meanwhile, Lao Zhan was in his office, wrapping up his late-night work. The glow of his tablet lit up his face as one of his subordinates gave the final reports. Everything was normal—until something unusual flickered in the corner of his eye.
A red dot.
A laser sight.
Right on his chest.
He froze. One wrong move and his name would be carved on a headstone. Sweat broke across his forehead as he swallowed hard. Keeping his cool, he reached for his phone and pretended to answer a call. Then, in a rush of fake urgency, he stood and stormed out of the office like he had just received shocking news.
As soon as the door clicked shut, he bolted—running straight to my room.
But I wasn't there.
His heart dropped.
His knees buckled.
He collapsed right outside my door.
Wen Zhou and a few others rushed in and found him sprawled on the floor. Panic erupted. After all, this was Lao Zhan—strong, prideful, arrogant Lao Zhan. What the hell was happening?
They carried him to his bed and called his personal doctor. After a few tests, the doctor turned to the group with a straight face and said, "He fainted from shock."
A ripple of confusion swept the room. "Shock?" someone whispered.
What had shocked him so badly?
That's when Lao Zhan slowly opened his eyes, blinking into the bright ceiling light.
And the first thing he said?
"Where is Ling Zhao?"
The room went dead silent.
Everyone stared at each other. I mean, come on—this man and I couldn't go two minutes without threatening murder. Why was I the first thing he asked for?
"She's in the lounge… watching series," Wen Zhou replied carefully, leaning closer. "Do you want me to call her?"
Lao Zhan shook his head and got out of bed. [Even though it might've just been a warning shot, it proves what she's capable of. It's not worth risking my life. Fine. I'll agree. It's only for a few weeks.] He sighed and made his way downstairs.
I looked up as he walked into the lounge. "So… hearing that you fainted, I guess you loved my surprise?" I said, grinning darkly. It was less of a smile, more of a warning.
"I agree to your deal," he muttered, eyes avoiding mine. You could tell his pride was somewhere in the ICU after today's scare.
"Oh? Is that so?" I stood and patted his shoulder gently, mockingly. "Well then, good news. I'm going somewhere tomorrow. I'm giving you the day to prepare before you officially become my slave."
Just by the look on his face, I knew he was fuming.
The next morning came. I left early to visit Wen Zhin. Everything had been quiet—until I reached the second floor and heard strange noises coming from my room.
My room.
The one that NO ONE was allowed to enter without permission.
A chill ran down my spine as I slowly turned the doorknob.
What greeted me on the other side was something straight out of a horror film.
Everything—and I mean everything—was torn apart. My pillows shredded. My clothes ripped. Shoes scattered like someone held a party for raccoons in there.
I stood in frozen disbelief.
[Who the hell had the nerve to enter my room?!]
Then… I saw him.
A tiny furball sitting proudly on the couch, his tongue wagging and tail wagging even harder.
A puppy.
A fluffy, over-excited little demon disguised as a dog.
He blinked up at me, ears flopping, like he had done absolutely nothing wrong.
My face darkened. I swear I saw thunder clouds swirl above my head.
[Oh, I'm going to kill that tiny demon and sell his meat to those restaurants that sell bush meat.]