The ox cart back to the village was hired. It swayed slowly—just like Su Jinxiu’s uneasy mood at the moment.
Ever since Huo Chen got on the cart, he had closed his eyes to rest, releasing his “keep away from me” aura to the maximum. The cramped carriage felt so oppressive that Su Jinxiu could barely breathe, and even counting banknotes had lost its appeal.
What exactly was this tyrant angry about?
Su Jinxiu reflected for a moment.
Was it because she hadn’t taken him inside to negotiate business, hurting his male pride? That made sense. A former regent who once held absolute power over the court, now reduced to waiting at the door while his wife went out to earn money—there was bound to be some psychological gap.
“Hubby~”
Su Jinxiu decided to use her ultimate move.
She scooted closer to Huo Chen, her voice soft and sweet, tugging lightly at his sleeve.
“Are you tired? This cart is really bumpy. Once we sell this batch of herbs, I’ll buy a good horse, and we can ride—”
Huo Chen opened his eyes.
Those dark pupils swept over her coldly.
“‘Young Master Shen is a straightforward man. I’ll take this friend.’”
He repeated word-for-word what she had said in front of the pharmacy gate earlier. His tone was flat—but every syllable carried icy pressure.
Su Jinxiu blinked.
Oh. So it was that.
“Ah, that was just business talk!” she quickly explained. “In business, you need harmony to make money. He’s the investor—I had to flatter him a bit! In my heart, Shen Yushu isn’t even worth a single strand of your hair!”
“Is that so?” Huo Chen let out a cold laugh. “But I saw you smiling quite sincerely. What, now that you’ve seen someone well-dressed, you despise me, a cripple?”
That was getting heavy—and strangely sour.
Su Jinxiu rolled her eyes internally.
This man was probably insecure, afraid she would dump him once she made money. In the original story, Huo Chen at this stage was indeed extremely sensitive and suspicious.
She gritted her teeth and pulled out the silver note she hadn’t even warmed yet, then added five taels of loose silver, and handed it over with obvious reluctance.
“Here.”
Huo Chen looked at the money in front of him. His brows furrowed even deeper.
“What is this supposed to mean?”
“Silence fee… I mean, pocket money!” Su Jinxiu stuffed it into his hand solemnly. “I know men need face when they go out. Take this five taels. Buy whatever iron scraps or copper pieces you want, no need to report to me. The money from Shen Yushu is our joint property—I’m just the accountant. Fair enough, right?”
Huo Chen’s temple throbbed violently.
Was this woman’s brain made of paste?
Did she really think he was angry over five taels of silver?
He was angry at the way Shen Yushu looked at her—that probing, appreciative gaze, as if something that belonged to him was being eyed by someone else.
“Su Jinxiu,” Huo Chen said through gritted teeth, “in your eyes, I’m the kind of man who throws a tantrum over five taels of silver?”
With a flick of his hand, the silver flew out in an arc and landed precisely back in her arms.
“Keep your filthy money. If you mention Shen Yushu’s name again, I’ll throw you off this cart.”
Su Jinxiu hurriedly caught the silver, muttering inwardly:
If you don’t want it, then don’t take it—why are you so angry?
Men really were unpredictable.
Just then—
The ox cart suddenly jerked to a halt.
The carriage shook violently. The old driver cried out in alarm:
“Whoa—!”
Ahead, several thick logs blocked the dirt road.
From both sides of the roadside bushes, seven or eight masked, burly men rushed out, each holding clubs or machetes. Their manner was vicious at a glance—they were clearly not ordinary bandits.
“This road belongs to us! This tree was planted by us!” the leader with a scarred face shouted, resting a large blade on his shoulder.
“If you want to pass, leave your money—and the little lady in the cart stays behind!”
Su Jinxiu’s heart sank.
The cliché line was one thing—but the killing intent on these men was real.
Their stance and movement didn’t look like common mountain bandits. They looked more like hired enforcers from the county’s underground forces.
“Li the widower?” the name immediately flashed in her mind.
No one else would know she was carrying such a large sum today.
“Husband…”
In one second, Su Jinxiu switched expressions. She shrank behind Huo Chen, her previously calculating face turning pale as she grabbed his sleeve, trembling.
“I’m so scared… they have knives…”
In reality, her other hand had already reached for the high-strength anesthetic needle in her sleeve.
If they dared to approach, she would teach them what modern medical suppression meant.
But Huo Chen did not mock her acting as he usually did.
He merely glanced at the men outside, then calmly pressed down her hand—the one ready to strike.
“Don’t dirty your hands.”
His voice was very light.
But it carried absolute control.
The old driver had already crawled under the cart in fear.
Seeing no reaction, the scar-faced leader smirked and stepped forward.
“What? Frozen in fear? Or do I have to personally invite you down?”
He reached out, intending to lift the carriage curtain.
At that very instant.
Without any warning, without a single unnecessary word—
“Crack—”
A faint mechanical trigger sound was swallowed by the wind.
A streak of black light shot out from the gap in the curtain.
“Ah—!!”
The scar-faced man’s sneer froze on his face, followed immediately by a bloodcurdling scream. The hand he had stretched toward the curtain now had a bloody hole in its palm. A short black arrow, no thicker than a little finger, had pierced straight through his hand and continued onward, embedding itself deeply into a nearby tree trunk. The arrow tail still trembled violently.
Silence fell over the entire scene.
The remaining thugs were stunned. They hadn’t even seen what happened—one blink, and their boss was already crippled.
The curtain was slowly lifted by a long, slender hand.
Huo Chen sat in the dim carriage. Half his face was hidden in shadow. He raised his left arm slightly, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a compact black iron device strapped to his wrist.
It was what he had retrieved from the blacksmith shop earlier that day—an improved wrist crossbow.
“This road,” Huo Chen rotated his wrist slightly, the dark arrow slot aiming at the remaining men. His tone was calm, as if discussing the weather, “who owns it now?”
A suffocating pressure, like something crawling out of a mountain of corpses and seas of blood, instantly enveloped everyone.
The thugs’ legs began to tremble. This was supposed to be a fat sheep? This was clearly the King of Hell.
“Get lost.”
Huo Chen only said two words.
As if granted amnesty, the thugs scrambled to drag away the howling scar-faced man and fled into the forest, running as fast as their legs could carry them.
Su Jinxiu was completely stunned.
She stared at the inconspicuous black iron box on his wrist, then at the short arrow embedded three inches into the tree trunk in the distance, and swallowed hard.
This was… way too much violent aesthetics.
“Husband…” she called out, and for once, there was genuine reverence in her voice.
Huo Chen lowered his sleeve, hiding the deadly device. He turned to look at her. The coldness in his eyes had not yet fully faded, but it softened slightly when it landed on her stunned little face.
“In the future, don’t go around attracting trouble,” he said coldly, his tone carrying unquestionable dominance. “Whether it’s Shen Yushu or these trash—if anyone dares to touch you…”
He paused, lightly brushing his sleeve.
“My things… only I am allowed to bully.”
Su Jinxiu’s heart suddenly skipped a beat.
That sounded… suspiciously like a confession. No—this was the tyrant’s possessiveness. Territorial instinct!
“Understood! Understood!” she nodded frantically, very tactfully flattering him. “Husband is mighty! Husband is domineering! From now on I’ll stick with husband—no one will dare mess with me!”
Seeing her obedient little sycophant expression, Huo Chen’s lips twitched slightly, his mood inexplicably improving.
That five-tael silver debt—consider it settled.
PS: Who understands this?! Our Jinxiu gave her husband pocket money and still got lectured—this generation of husbands is really hard to handle!