Ah! The Villains I Forced to Turn Evil Can Read My Mind-Chapter 246
Ji Yanchuan stared blankly at Qiao Chuchu’s retreating figure, momentarily at a loss for words.
He studied her silhouette again and again.
Confirmed the shade of her auburn hair.
Then he swiftly turned to look behind him.
The source of this c𝓸ntent is freewebnøvel.coɱ.
Ye Huining stood there, smiling at him with indulgent affection before gently closing the partition door.
Ji Yanchuan was utterly stunned.
Qiao Chuchu was in his house!
She wore a tailored suit dress, her high-heeled feet neatly pressed together.
She had clearly dressed up meticulously to see him.
Even her back view was strikingly beautiful.
A flicker of joy rose in Ji Yanchuan, followed by confusion.
Qiao Chuchu had spoken so harshly to him before, even resorting to ruthless tactics against him. So why did she suddenly seem more and more agreeable the longer he looked at her?
As he pondered, Qiao Chuchu began to turn around.
Ji Yanchuan’s expression twisted in panic. He frantically scanned the room, snatched up a decorative mask, and slapped it over his face!
When Qiao Chuchu fully turned, she frowned in bewilderment at the sight of Ji Yanchuan’s bizarrely shaped mask. “Why are you wearing that?”
Ji Yanchuan clutched the mask, avoiding her gaze. “I—I have social anxiety. I can’t talk to people face-to-face.”
Qiao Chuchu nodded in understanding, not pressing further. “May I ask how much you’re asking for this painting?”
Ji Yanchuan glanced at the price list his mother had prepared.
The painting had been purchased twenty years ago, during Qiao Qiao’s peak fame, right after her passing.
The original price was one million.
Adjusting for inflation and the era’s value, five million would be a fair ask now.
After a moment’s hesitation, Ji Yanchuan studied Qiao Chuchu and ventured, “Do you know whose house this is?”
Qiao Chuchu shook her head apologetically. “Only that it belongs to a woman surnamed Ye. She contacted me through an acquaintance, saying she had my mother’s first sold artwork and asked if I wanted to buy it back.”
Ji Yanchuan nodded.
So she didn’t know this was his home—or that he was Ji Yanchuan.
Luckily, his hoarse voice now sounded nothing like his usual tone, so she hadn’t recognized him.
His gaze drifted down to Qiao Chuchu’s hands, and his mind wandered.
Just yesterday, she’d twisted his arm, pinned him against a car, and smirked at him with disdain.
Yet here she stood before him now, soft and sweet as a marzipan cake.
Almost without thinking, he blurted, “I’ll sell it to you for one million—the original price. But on one condition: you spend a harmonious day with me. No inappropriate demands, nothing impolite. I just want to be near you quietly. From now until after dinner, and the painting is yours.”
Qiao Chuchu: “…”
Excuse me?
Was this guy messing with her?
Buying a painting shouldn’t come with imprisonment!
She wasn’t that bored.
She refused outright. “No. Raise the price if you want, and I’ll consider it. But I won’t entertain this kind of request.”
Ji Yanchuan stiffened. “But this is your mother’s first work before she passed. Doesn’t it mean something to you?”
“Art is lifeless; people aren’t. It’s meaningful, but not *that* meaningful.”
Qiao Chuchu’s brows knitted in displeasure. “If my mother were alive, she’d never want me held hostage or mistreated over a painting.”
She turned to leave. “I’ll go now. Think it over, and I’ll return if you change your mind.”
Ji Yanchuan grabbed her arm in panic. “Wait!”
Qiao Chuchu looked at him.
He recoiled as if burned, stammering, “Sorry, that was rude. I just… don’t have friends. I wanted someone to talk to.”
His face burned with shame as he lied, avoiding her eyes. “It’s rare to meet another fan of Qiao Qiao’s work. I hoped we could discuss it. No ill intent.”
He backtracked hastily. “How about two hours? Just two hours—no unreasonable asks, just talking about art.”
After a pause, Qiao Chuchu relented. “Fine.”
Ji Yanchuan brightened, gesturing to a seat. “Please!”
Two hours would do.
If he could charm her, make her like him, maybe she’d forgive him!
He’d never lacked admirers—handsome, wealthy, effortlessly charismatic. A little effort, and Qiao Chuchu would melt!
---
Meanwhile, Shen Zhuoyan waited in the hallway.
Ye Huining approached, eyeing him with disdain. “You’re Shen Zhuoyan of the Shen family, correct?”
Shen Zhuoyan’s expression darkened as he glared at her.
Her lips curled mockingly. “Surprised someone like you found employment. Does your employer know you’re a murderer? Or did you hide it?”
Shen Zhuoyan turned away, ignoring her.
Unfazed, Ye Huining continued, “If my son dates Qiao Chuchu, you’ll be the first to go. Pack your things.”
His jaw clenched. “What do you mean?”
She smirked. “Exactly that. A threat like you has no right guarding anyone.”
Shen Zhuoyan’s gaze turned venomous. “If I err, my employer will reprimand me. Not you.”
Ye Huining scoffed. “Ungrateful wretch. Your father raised you diligently, and you repaid him with *that*? I attended his funeral—heard your grandmother’s wailing!”
“I don’t care how they grieved!” Shen Zhuoyan ground out, fists shaking. “My father drove my mother to her death!”
She laughed coldly. “Your mother was weak. Her fault, not his. You’re just making excuses for your crimes!”
---
Inside, Qiao Chuchu frowned. “Is that an argument outside?”
Ji Yanchuan waved it off. “Just my mother. Her voice is shrill—sounds worse than it is.”
But Qiao Chuchu rose, moving to the door to listen.
Shen Zhuoyan’s fists trembled with suppressed rage.
No matter how provoked, he couldn’t retaliate.
He was a bodyguard. His duty was silence.
Swallowing his fury, he stared at the floor.
He wouldn’t cause trouble for Qiao Chuchu.
Ye Huining sneered. “Look at you—unstable, criminal, seething at a few words. How can you protect anyone?”
Qiao Chuchu yanked the door open, eyes blazing. “Mrs. Ye! Direct your remarks to *me*!”
Shen Zhuoyan looked up in surprise as the petite Qiao Chuchu strode out of the art studio and planted herself squarely in front of him.
Her arms lifted slightly, like a fledgling shielding its mother hen, as she snapped indignantly, "You summoned me here to buy paintings—was it just to humiliate my bodyguard?!"
