Madam, Please Behave

Chapter 34: A Shattered Heart

Zhang Xinrou felt her entire body trembling.

Instinctively, she stepped back and shoved her suitcase forward with all her strength.

Caught off guard, Feng Qian stumbled back a few steps as the suitcase hit him.

With a loud bang, the security door slammed shut and locked.

Zhang Xinrou bolted deeper into the apartment, her breath quick and shallow.

Feng Qian steadied himself, wincing from the dull ache in his shin where the suitcase had struck. With a swift kick, he sent the suitcase flying out of his way, then lunged toward the door.

He raised his fists and pounded on the security door, his voice booming.

“Open this door!!”

Inside, Zhang Xinrou’s hands shook as they pressed against her face, her fingers digging into her skin and leaving red marks. She leaned her back firmly against the door, her body trembling with each of Feng Qian’s heavy blows.

It’s over! It’s all over!

The words echoed in her head, filling her chest with dread and panic. Her eyes darted frantically around the room, searching for a way to escape.

But before she could formulate a plan, the pounding stopped.

She froze.

A chilling realization struck her: Feng Qian had remembered that he carried a spare key.

The sound of the key sliding into the lock sent her into a frenzy. She spun around and pressed her hands against the door, desperately trying to keep it closed.

Click. Click.

The door lock released.

Zhang Xinrou pushed with all her strength, but as a woman with no habit of working out, her efforts were no match for Feng Qian’s.

The door cracked open, and through the gap, she saw half of Feng Qian’s face.

“Ah!”

A startled scream escaped her lips. The shock caused her to falter, and her strength gave out.

Seizing the moment, Feng Qian pushed hard, forcing the door open with a loud clang.

Breathing heavily, he stood in the doorway.

The force of the door sent Zhang Xinrou sprawling to the floor. Supporting herself with her hands, her face was etched with terror.

Scrambling to her feet, she panicked. Her first attempt failed, her knees wobbling as her chin struck the ground hard.

Pain was a distant concern—she clawed at the floor, trying again to escape.

Feng Qian surged forward, grabbing her by the ankle.

She screamed, thrashing wildly, her frantic kicks landing a blow to his abdomen. Grunting in pain, he released his grip.

Zhang Xinrou clambered to her feet, stumbling toward the kitchen. Her hands fumbled along the countertop until they found a knife.

Gripping it tightly with both hands, she spun around to face Feng Qian.

“Don’t push me!!” she screamed.

Her eyes were wide with desperation, tears streaming uncontrollably down her face as her voice cracked with hysteria.

“I didn’t mean to! I… I couldn’t control myself! I didn’t mean to do it!”

Feng Qian’s face twisted with a mix of anger, sadness, and disbelief.

Looking at the woman he had known for nearly a decade, he couldn’t hide the overwhelming disappointment in his eyes.

For the first time, it felt as though he were looking at a stranger.

His voice trembled with emotion, laced with disbelief.

“I thought… I thought you were just as kind-hearted as your sister…”

“Shut up!!”

Zhang Xinrou’s scream tore through the air as her composure completely unraveled.

Her once-tied hair was now a tangled mess, with loose strands falling around her face. The black hair tie still clung to the ends, threatening to slip off entirely.

“It’s all her fault!” she shrieked, her voice quivering with hatred. “She was always mocking me, always bullying me! If it weren’t for her, my life wouldn’t have turned out like this… It’s all her fault!”

Her eyes darted wildly as she muttered, her words tumbling out in a torrent.

“She’s been suppressing me since we were kids, always showing off her fancy things. I could bear it, I could swallow it all…”

Abruptly, Zhang Xinrou raised her head, the knife in her hand now pointing directly at Feng Qian.

“But she took even you from me! She left me with nothing—nothing! She stole everything: my parents’ love, my teachers’ love, my classmates’ love! She even had to take away the first boy I liked! I hate her! I hate her so much!”

She took a few steps forward, the knife trembling in her grip.

“I hated her so much I wished for her to die! And now my wish came true—she’s dead! But! But!!”

Her face twisted with rage and despair.

“Why won’t you accept me? She’s been gone for seven years! Why can’t you move on and accept me?!”

Feng Qian remained silent, staring at her flushed, hysterical face.

Her eyes burned with resentment, desperation, and a madness he had never seen before.

Finally, after a long silence, he spoke with quiet determination.

“I will never accept anyone else,” he said, his voice low and resolute.

“I’ve only ever loved her.”

“SHUT UP!!”

Her shrill voice cracked as she lunged forward, the knife aimed wildly at him.

Feng Qian had anticipated this. He sidestepped the attack and delivered a sharp kick to her side.

Zhang Xinrou was sent sprawling backward, colliding with the kitchen counter. The impact caused the plate rack above to shake violently, sending plates crashing to the floor with an ear-piercing clatter.

The floor was now littered with shards of broken porcelain.

Zhang Xinrou lay on the floor, motionless. Her left hand bled from a cut caused by the shards. Her head hung low, and the knife had slipped from her grasp, lying a short distance away.

Feng Qian approached cautiously, using his foot to kick the knife farther away.

Grabbing her by the collar, he forced her to look at him.

Zhang Xinrou slowly raised her head. Her disheveled hair partially obscured her face, but through the strands, their eyes met.

Suddenly, her lips curled into a chilling smile.

“Heh… heh… heh…”

Blood dripped from the wound on her hand, falling onto the floor one drop at a time.

Unfazed by the pain, she raised her injured hand, smearing her bloody fingers against Feng Qian’s cheek.

“Why didn’t you choose me?” she whispered, her voice trembling with bitterness.

“I met you first…”

Her eyes gleamed with unbridled hatred as she said those words.

Feng Qian’s lips quivered, his mind flooded with memories of his wife—their time together, her laughter, her kindness.

With a deep breath, he finally decided to speak the truth.

“Your sister and I started dating in the second semester of high school…” he began, his voice steady despite the weight of his words.

“That day in the cafeteria, when you didn’t have money for lunch—it was your sister who asked me to help you. She knew you didn’t like her, so she asked me to do it instead…”

Zhang Xinrou froze, her bloodied hand pausing mid-air.

She stared at him blankly, her head shaking slightly in disbelief.

“No… no, that’s impossible…”

“Your sister never showed off anything to you. She just wanted to share with you.”

Feng Qian’s voice grew hoarse as his emotions overwhelmed him.

“She loved you more than anyone else. In high school, when you were bullied—who do you think stepped in to protect you? In college, when you needed money—did you really think it was your parents who sent it? Even on the day she died, her last words… were about you.”

Tears welled in Feng Qian’s eyes as he spoke, his voice breaking.

His grip on Zhang Xinrou’s collar tightened momentarily before loosening, his hands falling limply to his sides.

She had committed unforgivable acts, but she was still the sister his late wife had cherished until her final breath.

Leaning against the wall, Feng Qian slid to the floor, defeated.

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, his voice filled with sorrow.

“Leave. Don’t ever show yourself to me or my daughter again…”

Zhang Xinrou stood frozen, unable to believe her ears.

“Get out!!”

Feng Qian’s roar snapped her out of her daze.

Stumbling, ignoring the shards of broken plates on the floor, she scrambled to her feet and fled, disappearing from his sight.

Feng Qian remained where he was, staring blankly at the home they had built together.

After what felt like an eternity, his feet carried him to the room Zhang Xinrou had occupied.

From beneath her bed, he pulled out a box.

Inside, he found bamboo rods, rope, and other unspeakable tools…

Holding the rope that had once bound Feng Shuyan, Feng Qian slid down the wall and sat on the floor, burying his face in the rope.

Finally, he could no longer hold back his grief.

He wept openly, his cries echoing through the silent apartment.