Lucky Golden Dragon in the 80s: My Dad? I Switched Him for a Better One novel Chapter 203

Chapter 203: Chapter 203: Fanning the Flames

After she spoke, she smiled, her eyes sweeping over her other colleagues as if seeking their approval.

Some people nodded along, while others coughed lightly to hide their awkwardness.

"I... I’m really fine! I’m just going for a routine checkup!"

Yuan Zhihe bit her lip, forcing herself to stay calm.

"They’re encouraging premarital checkups now, right? I’m just going through the motions."

"Oh—so that’s how it is."

Shanshan let out a long sigh of relief, one hand on her chest, her acting especially convincing.

"I thought you couldn’t hide it anymore and were rushing to have the wedding banquet."

"Oh, come on, Shanshan, isn’t that a bit of a stretch? Would our little Junior Sister Yuan do something like that? You’re underestimating her! Don’t you agree, Junior Sister Yuan?"

A senior colleague immediately jumped in, her tone as indignant as a protective family member’s.

She walked over to Yuan Zhihe and patted her on the shoulder, but the force was anything but light.

"Exactly! Everyone knows how proper and well-behaved she is. How could she possibly do something so shameful?"

Another female colleague chimed in, drawing out her words.

The two of them went back and forth, their tone sounding like they were defending her, but every word was a barb aimed straight at Yuan Zhihe’s heart.

On the surface, the matter was considered clarified, but who didn’t understand what was really going on?

Plenty of people were gossiping behind her back, and the glances they threw her way were far from proper.

Everywhere Yuan Zhihe went, she felt a chill on the back of her neck.

Some gossiped about how hasty her engagement was, others said she was a scheming social climber, and some even questioned if the child was really from the Cao family.

At first, she could grit her teeth and bear it, telling herself that the innocent have nothing to fear and the rumors would eventually die down.

But after two days, the feeling of being watched and judged by everyone grew more intense. It felt like a heavy, soaked wad of cotton was pressed against her chest, making it hard to breathe.

Her temper grew short, and the slightest thing could trigger an emotional breakdown.

Finally, on the morning of the third day, she couldn’t take it anymore.

That same day, she went to her workplace to request time off, then packed a few clothes into a suitcase.

She didn’t say goodbye to anyone. As she dragged her suitcase out of the company building, her steps were hurried and heavy.

The sky was overcast, and the wind bit at her face, but she showed no intention of stopping.

After returning to her apartment, she had just locked the door when a knock came from outside.

It was Cao Daqiang.

He had heard from a colleague that she had left work early, and, worried something had happened, he had rushed over to check on her.

The moment the door opened, before he could even steady himself, a broom came swinging straight for his head.

"Hey, hey, hey! Zhihe, are you crazy? Why’d you just start hitting me? Can’t we talk about whatever’s wrong?"

He staggered back two steps, catching himself against the wall to keep from falling.

The broom handle thudded against his shoulder, and the bristles scraped his temple, leaving a stinging pain.

"Get out! Get the hell away from me! I don’t want to see your face!"

Her eyes were bloodshot, her face was pale, and her lips trembled as she spoke.

She still held the broom aloft, ready to swing it again at any moment.

Before he could speak again, she spun around and slammed the door with a BANG, not even leaving a crack.

Silence returned to the other side of the door, with only the motion-activated light in the hallway flickering on and off.

He took out his phone, deleted a few unsent draft messages, and reset his car’s navigation, preparing to leave.

He was busy plotting his next move, but he never expected that he would soon have no time to worry about such things.

Because from that day on, it was as if Yuan Zhihe had become a different person. Using the baby in her belly as leverage, she began to torment him in all sorts of new ways.

One moment, she’d demand tofu pudding from the old, time-honored shop in the east of the city, claiming she could only get an appetite from its smell and that it absolutely had to be freshly made.

He’d run over, wait in line for half an hour to buy it, and bring it back, only for her to take one bite, declare it too salty, and throw it on the floor.

The next moment, she’d insist on chicken soup stewed with mountain spring water, saying that soup made with regular water had no nutritional value, forcing him to drive to the foot of a mountain in the suburbs to fetch it.

After a three-hour round trip to bring the water back, she’d complain it hadn’t been stewed long enough and make him cook it all over again.

She’d wake him in the middle of the night to go to the wet market and pick out a live fish, claiming that prenatal education demanded the freshest ingredients. The seafood stalls at four in the morning were deserted, and the vendors all came to recognize his face.

He’d be running around in the freezing cold until he was drenched in sweat, only to come home and get scolded for being late and disturbing the fetus.

Laundry, cooking, serving tea and water—she demanded he do everything himself, running him ragged as if he were a hired hand.

The bowls and chopsticks had to be sterilized at high temperatures three times, the bedsheets changed daily, and the fruit had to be peeled, cut into pieces, and arranged in the shape of a flower petal with toothpicks.

If he showed the slightest bit of neglect, she would burst into a fit of tears and accusations, saying he didn’t care about the baby and wouldn’t be a good father in the future.

Cao Daqiang had been doted on and spoiled since he was a child. When had he ever done such menial labor?

At first, he would force a smile and feign a few coaxing words to please the Yuan Family.

After a while, he couldn’t stand it anymore and started lying about working overtime at the office, sneaking out to find some peace and quiet.

He would clock out from work on time every day but never go home. Instead, he would drive to the east side of the city.

There was a small apartment there, its curtains perpetually drawn, its lock changed several times.

He hid the key under a flowerpot by the door and always avoided the main entrance’s security camera whenever he went.