Gambling Fool’s Luck!

After a night of intimacy, Fang Zhou awoke to find someone new beside him.

The person lay quietly in his arms, hands wrapped around his arm, breathing evenly.

It was a position of reliance, indicating a lack of security.

The scent of gardenias lingered, like a signal, sparking thoughts.

Fang Zhou gently moved his arm, finally freeing himself from Chu Xinran, and took the chance to slip into the bathroom.

This was his opportunity to leave the bed.

Last night, anger had driven him to passionately indulge her, leaving him exhausted, so Chu Xinran was still asleep.

Perhaps being her first time, she slept soundly.

Fang Zhou tiptoed to the door, cautiously testing the handle, surprised to find it unlocked!

The door wasn’t locked!

A huge surprise fell from the sky, and Fang Zhou didn’t hesitate, grabbing his coat and rushing out!

Joking aside, hesitating for even a second would waste this unlocked door.

But before he could celebrate, he heard voices at the courtyard gate.

“Why does Miss go to such lengths, traveling to this godforsaken place just to chase a man?”

“Shh, keep it down! I say it’s too much money and nowhere to spend it. If these rich young masters and misses had to work like us, they wouldn’t be so carefree.”

“When can we go back to Kyoto? I haven’t seen my girlfriend in ages.”

“Who hasn’t?”

The rough voices allowed Fang Zhou to deduce they were Chu Xinran’s bodyguards.

Local people spoke Mandarin with an accent, unlike the well-spoken Chu family guards.

With Chu Xinran’s arrival, the guards outside were replaced with her people.

Did this mean she and Qiao Sisi had reached an agreement, taking turns tormenting him?

Fang Zhou quickly assessed the situation and decided to find another way out, avoiding the main gate.

He couldn’t overpower the guards, and going out might lead to immediate capture and stricter confinement.

At dawn, the sun rose gently from the east, casting soft light over the courtyard.

He saw farming tools neatly against the wall and high courtyard walls forming an unyielding fortress, trapping him.

His gaze fell on a large tree in the west corner.

The tree, almost bare due to the season, stood with its branches and few remaining leaves.

Its trunk, like an old man weathered by time, silently told tales of storms endured, likely many years old.

Fang Zhou rubbed his hands together, preparing to climb.

His last tree-climbing was over a decade ago, in the countryside, retrieving bird nests—a necessary skill.

Taking a deep breath, he sprinted and climbed, reaching the top in seconds.

The tree’s branches extended beyond the courtyard, just a step away from freedom.

But the height, about five or six meters, was daunting.

Jumping could break a leg.

But not jumping meant no chance to escape once Chu Xinran woke and found him missing.

As he debated, a voice came from the house.

“Brother Fang Zhou! Where are you?”

Oh no! Chu Xinran was awake and searching!

Panicked, Fang Zhou didn’t consider how far he could run with a broken leg, only knowing he couldn’t be found.

He closed his eyes, thinking, “A gambler’s luck!”

Then he jumped without hesitation!

The moment pain shot through his leg, he regretted it.

Damn, gamblers always lose!

Agonizing pain surged, making him tremble, unable to stand.

He collapsed heavily, lying twisted and awkward.

Every breath was a struggle, teeth clenched to stifle cries, throat choked silent.

Sweat beaded on his pale face, falling like broken pearls into the dirt.

Each drop splashed dust, soaking into the ground, leaving tiny craters.

Having jumped, being caught by cries would be pointless.

After a moment, he heard movement in the courtyard, voices approaching, knowing he had to move.

But trying to stand, he failed.

Pain in his right leg was nearly fatal, each move a nerve-wracking ordeal, running impossible.

“Hiss.”

Taking a deep breath, he decided to drag himself away.

But before he could, a group approached, silhouetted against the light.

Leading was a woman, her Martin boots silent on the dirt, but her stride commanding attention.

Fang Zhou’s heart sank: Was it Qiao Sisi?

He turned to flee, forgetting his injury, stepping painfully, losing balance, falling.

His face scraped stones, burning.

Fang Zhou gritted his teeth, never imagining such humiliation.

Before he could plan, footsteps neared.

He sighed inwardly: It was over.

The woman stopped before him, looking down, her gaze sharp, like spotlights.

Even silent, Fang Zhou felt her disdain.

Qiao Sisi must be mocking his futile escape, injuring himself.

Black Martin boots gleamed before him, reflecting his pained, scrunched face.

Unbearable.

The phrase echoed in his mind.

“How long has it been, and you’ve made such a mess of yourself?”

A calm, indifferent voice came from above, emotionless.

But to Fang Zhou, it was heavenly.

Joy bubbled within, like warm bubbles enveloping him.

That voice?

It’s her!