A Gentleman is Open-minded, While a Petty Person Sighs | Chapter 41 | Who is the Hero | Novela.app

Chapter 42 - Who is the Hero Even if Tan Junzi were the most oblivious person on the planet, she would have eventually pieced together the underlying cause of the three-way brawl. As a woman who had spent years navigating the complexities of human nature within the police force, she was far from obtuse. Reflecting on the chaotic events that had unfolded at the hospital, her heart was a tangled mess of conflicting emotions—she felt a profound sense of helplessness, yet she couldn't help but find the entire situation somewhat absurdly comical. It was a strange, almost ethereal realization. To know that while she had been entirely focused on her own life—her studies, her career, and her unwavering devotion to Chang Ying—others had been carrying the quiet, heavy weight of unrequited affection for her since their youth. She had never looked at anyone else, never felt even the slightest flicker of a crush for another soul, yet here were these men, now grown, still tethered to the ghosts of their adolescence. From Junzi’s perspective, while she could never offer them the reciprocity they might have once craved, she felt no urge to mock Qin Ke or Zhang Da. Their feelings, however inconvenient they had become in the present, were a testament to a time of innocence that she respected with a quiet, somber dignity. However, respect for the past did not excuse the rowdiness of the present. She had to maintain a firm stance. They had sent someone to the hospital—and though Chang Ying’s direct involvement in the actual injury was minimal—as a police officer, she simply could not let such a public disturbance slide without a reprimand. It was a matter of principle, a necessity to uphold the "family law" within their own home. And so, she had reached for a broken ruler, a makeshift tool of discipline that carried far more weight in symbolism than it did in actual force. The "punishment" itself turned into a curious affair. Every time the ruler met his palm with a sharp, rhythmic *thwack*, Chang Ying didn't flinch or pull away. Instead, he wore an expression of utter contentment, as if the light sting were a badge of honor or, more accurately, a form of intimate play. To him, this wasn't a stern reprimand; it was practically foreplay. Before she could strike again, he pulled her into his arms, his lips descending upon her cheeks in a flurry of quick, light kisses—much like a persistent woodpecker tapping at a tree. He showered her face with affection until she was breathless. "My wife is just too cute," he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with a warmth that made Junzi’s head spin. Dizzy from the onslaught of kisses, Junzi tried to regain her professional composure, though her heart wasn't in it. "You’re a grown man now," she scolded, her voice softening despite her best efforts. "You can’t go around getting into brawls like a schoolboy. If someone bothers you, or if someone tries to bully you, you come to me. I’m the police officer here; I’m the one who should be doing the punching. You aren't allowed to move a finger." Chang Ying’s smile broadened, bright enough to illuminate the entire room. "Deal!" he chirped, his eyes sparkling with mischief. There was something undeniably intoxicating about the idea of being "protected" by his wife. He had spent much of his life being the strong one, the protector, but stepping into the role of the "fox" relying on the "tiger’s" authority—especially when the tiger was a beautiful officer of the law—felt surprisingly satisfying. It was a novel sensation, a peculiar kind of pride that he was more than happy to indulge in. He chose not to elaborate further on the specifics of the fight. There were some things a man simply didn't discuss with his wife, especially when it involved the messy details of male ego and old rivalries. His pride, and the stoic lessons of his upbringing, dictated that some battles were best left in the shadows, kept between the men who fought them.