Chapter 7 He was so furious… he wanted to kill her

“Director, what do you need me for?”

Wen Xuxu’s voice was icy cold. Her gaze swept over the man in a single glance—then snapped forward, flat and indifferent, as if she’d never laid eyes on him before.

Huo Sijue narrowed his eyes.

Staring at the woman who’d finally arrived—dressed in a white lab coat, face half-hidden behind a surgical mask—the killer instinct in him sharpened like a blade.

“Oh! Nancy! This is Mr. Huo—the patient you were called in for last night. He’s here now. Go take a look at what’s going on with him!”

“Director,” Wen Xuxu said coolly, “I’ve already told you: I misread his case yesterday. My skills aren’t enough to treat him. Please assign another Western doctor. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be off to attend to my duties.”

She finished speaking, turned on her heel—and started to walk away.

Director: ……
Assistant Xiao Lin: ……

Neither had even processed what just happened when a blur shot past them from behind. In an instant, a hand clamped down on Wen Xuxu’s wrist, yanking her back so hard she slammed into the door with a brutal *thud*.

Holy hell!!

Wen Xuxu’s back exploded with pain—her vision whited out.

The director and Xiao Lin stood frozen, mouths agape.

“Wen Xuxu! You think this is a game? Fine. Then let’s play.”

The man’s face twisted into something feral. Bloodshot eyes locked onto hers like a rabid beast. In three swift motions, he ripped the mask from her face—then curled his fingers around her throat, crushing it.

Her head snapped up, her small face exposed.

It was a face utterly transformed from five years ago—once soft, innocent, dreamy-eyed. Now, though her features hadn’t changed, the light in her eyes had vanished. Her skin remained clear and pale, but the warmth, the hope, the vulnerability—gone. Replaced by cold detachment.

And right now, even as his fingers choked her, those stunning, liquid eyes held not fear, not panic—only disdain. A quiet, cutting contempt.

Huo Sijue froze.

“You come at me,” she whispered, voice steady, almost amused. “Go ahead. Kill me. I’ve already died once. I don’t fear death twice. Huo Sijue, listen well—I’m telling you now: either you kill me today… or one day, I’ll be the one to end you.”

“!!”

His knuckles turned white. Veins bulged along his temples.

“Sir! What are you doing?! Are you insane?! She’s the wife! Let go of her *now*!”

Thankfully, Xiao Lin snapped out of it. He lunged forward, grabbing Huo Sijue’s wrist and wrenching it open with all his strength.

Wen Xuxu collapsed to the floor, gasping like a fish flung ashore, clutching her chest, sucking in air like it was life itself.

A monster.

After several long minutes, the tension in the room finally eased—strangely, almost unnaturally. The storm had passed, leaving behind a silence thick with unspoken fury.

“Fine,” Huo Sijue said, voice low and dangerous. “I’ll give you one chance. Tell me—what really happened five years ago? Why are you alive? Where are the two children? Are they with you now? If you don’t answer me clearly, you won’t leave this office.”

He loomed over her, towering, his aura still laced with lethal intent.

Every time he thought of that day—the memory of blood, of fire, of loss—he felt the weight of guilt clawing at his soul. He’d spent years trying to make amends for the child who survived. He’d cut ties with the other woman completely. No more talk of love. No more marriage.

He’d been a fool. A pathetic, broken man. And now, standing before her, he wanted nothing more than to crush her beneath his boot.

Huo Sijue had never been humiliated like this.

But Wen Xuxu only laughed—a dry, bitter sound.

“Why am I alive? Oh, does that bother you, Mr. Huo? How unfortunate. I’ve never owed you anything—marriage, motherhood, three children… none of it was mine to give. We were forced together. You preach about love and freedom. So tell me—after I nearly died giving you one child, why did I lose the right to live?”

“You—”

The words hit like a whip. The man who’d just tried to strangle her stood speechless, stunned.

Wen Xuxu smirked. “Besides, wasn’t my fake death perfect for your grand romance? You claimed you loved Gu Xia. That you’d marry her. Well—now you’re a widower. You can have her. Isn’t that exactly what you wanted?”

Silence.

For several seconds, Huo Sijue stared at her—really *stared*—as if seeing a stranger.

When had she become this? Sharp-tongued, venomous, cruel? Where was the timid girl who used to tremble at the sight of him? The one who couldn’t even lift her head when he walked in?

Now she stood before him—unbroken, unafraid, unrepentant.

Huo Sijue’s face went ashen.