C10 Meet Your Old Friends!

"The stuff is right here."

Yan Zhimo led Yann Qiai into his study, then pulled out a family register and a marriage certificate from the top drawer of his desk.

Yann Qiai eagerly reached out to take them, but Yan Zhimo lifted his hand, leaving her grasping at air.

"It's not that I don't want to give them to you, but you need to earn them," Yan Zhimo said casually, leaning against the desk.

"Alright, no problem," Yann Qiai responded confidently. "You want to collaborate with my family's company, right? Once I take over, I can give you a deal for free."

Yan Zhimo remained silent, his gaze cold as he watched her.

"Ten deals, and I'll throw in a batch of goods you need," Yann Qiai upped the ante.

"Yann Qiai, you underestimate your husband," Yan Zhimo finally spoke. "Think carefully about whether I care about one deal or even ten!"

"What do you want, then—"

"As a wife, disappearing for five years, what should you compensate your husband with when you return? Do I really need to remind you?" Yan Zhimo interrupted, his words sharp and deliberate.

"Ha, a wife? Your wife died in that fire five years ago!" Yann Qiai laughed bitterly. "And speaking of a wife, I have a question for you!"

"As a husband, what duties should you fulfill?"

"What?" Yan Zhimo was taken aback.

"As a husband, you left your wife to die in a fire. Shouldn't such a husband be condemned?" Yann Qiai's voice was chilling, like a specter from the depths.

"What right does such a husband have to talk about a wife disappearing for five years and not fulfilling her responsibilities?"

"Don't think too highly of yourself!" Yan Zhimo paused for a second, then retorted without hesitation.

"If it weren't for the underhanded tactics you and your father used back then, how could I have ended up marrying the wrong person and bringing you home?"

"Hahaha..." Yann suddenly burst into laughter.

"Zhimo, you said it yourself, didn't you?"

"What did I say?" Zhimo glared at Yann, furious.

"You admitted it—you never wanted to marry me. Marrying me was a mistake, right?" Yann paused, and seeing Zhimo didn't deny it, she continued, "Now I'm the one asking for a divorce, and I've even compensated you with ten free deals and a batch of goods. Shouldn't you be thanking me?"

"Heh... thank you? I really should thank you properly..." Zhimo's face twisted into a cold smile as he reached out and grabbed Yann's shoulder. "So let me thank you right now!"

With that, Zhimo kissed Yann forcefully. But before Yann could push him away, the study door burst open with a bang!

"Zhimo! You—" a sharp female voice rang out from the doorway. "Zhimo! Who is this woman?!"

Taking advantage of Zhimo's momentary distraction, Yann shoved him away. But the woman didn't continue questioning Zhimo; instead, she grabbed Yann's collar. "You little tramp! Are you tired of living, daring to steal my man? Who do you think you are?!"

Yann stayed silent.

Min, the woman Zhimo had wanted to marry all those years ago. Yann had been desperate to marry Zhimo, so she convinced her father to set up a situation that led to their marriage. Who would've thought that five years later, Min would still be around? The woman tied to the fire that nearly killed Yann had the nerve to show her face here!

Right in front of Yann!

"Say something, will you? You dare to compete with me for a man! You little tramp! Who are you, anyway?"

Seeing Yann remain silent, Min shook her shoulders violently, hurling insults with every shake.

"Can't you say anything else besides those two sentences?"

Yann Qiai glanced at Yan Zhimo, noticing he had no intention of intervening. She reached out and grabbed Min Sijun by the collar. Standing tall in her high heels, she towered over Min Sijun by nearly a head. As soon as Qiai lifted her, the frantic woman fell silent.

Part of her silence was due to Qiai's intimidating presence, and the other part was because she recognized Qiai's voice. Five years had passed since the fire that scarred half of Qiai's face, and she had almost completely transformed. But her voice remained unchanged.

Qiai shot Min Sijun a disdainful look, too indifferent to even be angry, and tossed her onto the carpet.

"Zhimo..." Min Sijun began to call for Yan Zhimo's help, but Qiai didn't even glance his way. She bent down, picked Min Sijun up again, and flung her onto the nearby sofa.

"Miss Min, Min Sijun..." Qiai began.

"Do you still need to ask who I am? Even though it's a bit dark here, surely you can recognize me?"

Qiai leaned in, gripping Min Sijun's chin, staring intensely into her eyes.

"Ah—" Min Sijun screamed.

She shook her head frantically, covering her face with her hands, her voice trembling with fear, "Yann Qiai... are you human or ghost?"