A Twisted Love Affair
Chapter 128: Don’t be afraid_1

Chapter 128: Don’t be afraid_1

Zhuang Ming hadn’t touched her snacks, unsure how much longer they would be stuck. He carefully stored them on the sandalwood panel of the center console.

Her phone was charging; she had fallen asleep.

By 10 p.m. that night, the road was still impassable.

When Shen Jing awoke, she was pitifully pressed against the window.

"Zhuang Ming, I want chicken legs. I want meat."

Her stomach was practically cleaving to her spine; apparently, extreme hunger could even blur one’s vision.

Zhuang Ming had no choice but to return the snacks he had set aside for her. "Have something to tide you over. I’ll inform the boss."

She felt awful from hunger as she listened to Zhuang Ming call *him*.

Zhou Luchen only answered on the second try.

"Boss."

Zhuang Ming reported respectfully, "We’ve encountered a chain-reaction pile-up, and the heavy rain hasn’t stopped. We can’t get out; we’ve been stuck for over five hours."

He vaguely heard a deep voice on the other end ask, "Which road?"

"The highway." Zhuang Ming glanced at the rearview mirror. "Miss Shen, she..."

But the call had already been disconnected.

Shen Jing looked at Zhuang Ming, who had fallen silent in the driver’s seat. She was too weak from hunger to articulate properly. "He doesn’t care about me, and by extension, he doesn’t care about you either."

Zhuang Ming, who could also be quite callous, said, "He’s busy."

"Busy with what?" Shen Jing drawled. "United Bank is full of elite professionals. He’s probably off somewhere indulging in debauchery, still fuming at me."

Zhuang Ming, as a member of the Zhou Family, naturally chose to cover for him. "Don’t overthink it. Maybe the road will clear up soon."

Shen Jing propped herself on the armrest and scrolled through her phone, pulling up Zhou Luchen’s WeChat. She typed out a message but didn’t send it, eventually deleting it all, feeling utterly spineless.

"I went to a friend’s house for dinner that day, and he’s been angry ever since."

Zhuang Ming knew. "He’s always disliked fickle girls. Even unintentional missteps are unacceptable to him."

Like Miss Wenxin.

Zhuang Ming really knows how to talk, Shen Jing thought. And she was just a girl. She understood even better that Zhuang Ming was warning her not to step out of line.

"Am I really that much of a player?" she asked Zhuang Ming, blinking.

Zhuang Ming politely sidestepped the question. "What if the other party is, though?"

Shen Jing lacked the energy to dwell on Zhuang Ming’s words and started opening the snacks.

The snacks were no longer enough to satisfy her hunger.

As Shen Jing nibbled on a biscuit, she wanted some water but couldn’t twist open the bottle. It was surprisingly difficult; the cap instantly left an imprint on her fingers.

What feeble strength, she thought.

Seeing her struggle, Zhuang Ming leaned over and patiently twisted the cap open for her.

Who can’t even open a water bottle? he mused. Could the Second Young Master possibly have taken a liking to her for something as trivial as not being able to open a water bottle?

Zhuang Ming gripped the steering wheel, watching the wipers sweep back and forth.

Suddenly, Shen Jing asked, "Did he break up with that Miss Wei over something like this?"

Zhuang Ming remained tight-lipped. "I don’t know."

Shen Jing glanced at Zhuang Ming and let out a sarcastic laugh.

If she cared about his past, she wouldn’t have chosen Zhou Luchen to flirt with in the first place.

"So, what do we do now?"

"I’ll get out and take a look." With that, Zhuang Ming opened an umbrella and stepped out of the car. The distinctive green Bentley umbrella moved through the pouring rain.

Around them, many people were also getting out of their cars to assess the situation.

It was impossible to pass. News reports indicated that exits in both directions had been closed. Rescue personnel were en route, but the traffic was so severe they couldn’t even get through.

Shen Jing was engrossed in her phone when she suddenly heard a loud BANG, followed by the long, drawn-out SCREECH of brakes.

In weather like this, such a sound, seemingly right beside them, made Shen Jing freeze in terror.

She stared out the car window, bewildered.

Memories of the past surfaced, and Shen Jing’s eyes suddenly reddened.

Two large trucks had crashed into the guardrail on the opposite side of the median barrier, not far away.

Shen Jing’s chest tightened. The drivers... I hope they’re okay.

I don’t know whose fathers, husbands, or children they are... As long as they’re alright, that’s all that matters. Please, let them be alright.

She thought of her own father. Thirteen years ago, a truck just as large had struck his car, sending it, with him inside, plunging off a highway overpass.

It had exploded into flames.

Car destroyed, driver dead.

It had been raining heavily then, too. Just like this.

Shaking off the memories, Shen Jing didn’t dare to dwell on it. She saw people getting out of their cars one by one, braving the rain and climbing over the median to check on the truck driver on the other side.

「Thankfully.」

The driver had only sustained minor injuries. He was unharmed.

But this time, traffic was blocked in both directions. Even trying to leave via a rescue vehicle from the opposite carriageway would be difficult.

Anyone on the highway, no matter which side, was trapped.

People started knocking on car windows, shouting, "A natural gas tanker has crashed! The tank is leaking! Everyone get out of your cars! Get out!"

"This is critical! If it explodes or catches fire, it’ll be disastrous! We all need to evacuate!"

"Forget your cars! Your lives are more important! Everyone get away from this section of the road! It’s completely blocked!"

Shen Jing unbuckled her seatbelt.

Zhuang Ming was already outside, opening her door. "Miss Shen."

With no time for further thought, Shen Jing grabbed her umbrella and got out. She joined the throng of people also stuck on the highway, all moving away from the accident site.

Some children, terrified by the ordeal, were crying loudly in the arms of their guardians. Shen Jing lent her spare umbrella to a family with a child and shared Zhuang Ming’s.

Within minutes, the leaking natural gas from the tanker mixed with the damp, misty rain, and the air grew heavy with an unpleasant odor. A massive explosion could occur at any moment, at any second.

Rescue workers in orange vests hurried past them, heading towards the accident against the flow of evacuees, the wail of sirens filling the air.

This torrential rain... when will it ever end?

Then, in an instant—

BANG!

The natural gas tanker exploded.

Under the umbrella, Shen Jing clutched her phone tightly, not daring to look back. Her phone kept vibrating—messages of concern from colleagues who knew she was taking this highway back to Shanghai.

She looked at Zhuang Ming, her eyes welling up. The myriad emotions swirling in them conveyed a simple message: she was hungry, and she desperately wanted to get away from here.

Zhuang Ming focused on keeping the umbrella steady over her, shielding her from every drop of rain, and said nothing.

"It would be terrible if the bridge collapsed... so many lives..." Shen Jing murmured, her voice trembling, her panic and fear palpable.

Even over the roar of the rain, Zhuang Ming could clearly hear her choked sobs.

Zhuang Ming knew.

He knew what she was truly afraid of.

Shen Jing’s father, Shen Rongcheng, had died in a car accident. It had also been a collision with a large truck, much like the natural gas tanker, on a highway overpass.

Back then, there had been an explosion. No survivors.

Tears streamed down Shen Jing’s face, seemingly unbidden.

Zhuang Ming didn’t know how to comfort her. She was Zhou Luchen’s woman; saying too much would be inappropriate. His duty was to escort her and ensure her daily safety. Her physical safety was his concern; her emotional state was not his responsibility.

Zhuang Ming fumbled in his pocket and handed her a tissue.

She gently wiped her nose.

Hungry, thirsty, and trapped...

She looked utterly pitiable. Zhuang Ming sighed inwardly.

They had only walked a few more minutes when, against the bleak twilight sky ahead, a helicopter appeared. It was approaching from the direction of Shanghai, battling the downpour, its rotors whirring noisily, the sound growing louder as it drew nearer.

In the blink of an eye, it was close enough to see clearly.

An all-white fuselage, its wingtip lights flashing a cold, pale blue, hovered above the highway.

It was a medium-sized AC096 model.

The lights on its tail fin illuminated two blue letters: AC.

Only the Zhou Family possessed private helicopters marked with "AC."

Zhuang Ming didn’t even need to think. He said softly, "Don’t you worry now, he’s here."

—*Don’t you worry now, he’s here.*

Those six words made Shen Jing instantly look up at the helicopter.