TVSFPAG -Chapter 170 Punish You to Give Me Two Million

After he finished speaking, he stood up and led the dog toward the residential area.

Sunlight filtered through the withered branches, casting shifting, mottled patterns across his body.

Wei Ke followed him. He now seriously suspected that something was wrong with Mr. Chu mentally, and he needed to keep a close watch.

If anything were to go wrong, he would have to return with his head on the line.

Back at the residential complex, Chu Jinhan led Quanquan into the apartment and shut Wei Ke outside with a single motion of his hand.

Wei Ke nearly bumped into the door but managed to step back in time.

Looking at the tightly closed door, he let out a helpless sigh.

Less than half an hour after Chu Jinhan went inside, Wei Ke was knocking on the door again.

When the door opened, Chu Jinhan looked at him with a displeased expression. “What is it?”

Wei Ke pointed at the phone in his palm. “Mr. Chu, that Doctor Bai added me.”

Chu Jinhan instinctively glanced at his phone. “What does that have to do with me?”

“Nothing much. He just sent some irrelevant photos. I thought I’d let you know—if you don’t care, then that would be too…” Before he could finish the word, the phone had already disappeared from Wei Ke’s hand.

By the time he reacted, he was once again standing outside with the door shut in his face.

Wei Ke touched his nose in confusion. Three seconds later, the door opened again, and the phone was handed back to him.

Surprised, he said, “Mr. Chu, you finished looking that quickly?”

“Password.”

“….”

Wei Ke entered the password on the screen to unlock the phone.

The interface was WeChat. Bai Yu’s profile picture was listed among the top contacts and groups.

After opening it, there was a long series of photos.

The first one showed a room—on the sofa, Song Yunfei was looking at her phone, while Bai Yu sat beside her taking a selfie, grinning like a blooming chrysanthemum.

The second-to-last photo showed a dining table covered with green vegetables. Song Yunfei sat across from the camera, holding up two peace signs, looking like she was reluctantly cooperating.

His gaze lingered on her wrist, where she wore a cheap braided cord bracelet. He stared at that bracelet for a long time.

Outside the phone, beneath his wristwatch, his own wrist was also covered with a similarly crooked braided cord.

One photo showed her in a park, squatting beside a bench and feeding a few pigeons that had gathered around her, a faint smile on her lips.

Another showed her in an apartment kitchen, her back to the camera as she seemed to be busy at the stove. She wore a light green T-shirt with her hair tied in a ponytail. Outside the window, the sky was gray, and the branches looked desolate.

Amid the gray, muted background, the photo looked almost like a painting.

Chu Jinhan scrolled upward through the images one by one—street scenes, parks, supermarkets—all ordinary, genuine snapshots of their everyday life together.

Wei Ke glanced at his expression. It remained unchanged—calm and unreadable.

But he noticed that his phone case had already been deformed from being gripped too tightly.

Several times he wanted to reach out and protect his phone, but the man’s invisible pressure made him abandon the thought.

Before he had finished scrolling through all the photos, a message popped up.

[Sorry, sent the wrong thing. Can’t recall it. My bad.]

The phone suddenly went black, and spiderweb-like cracks appeared across the screen.

Wei Ke took a deep breath. “M-Mr. Chu?”

Chu Jinhan returned the phone to him without a word, turned around, went back inside, and once again shut Wei Ke outside the door.

Wei Ke sighed.

Not long after, the door opened again. Chu Jinhan came out leading the dog.

Wei Ke looked at him in confusion.

Chu Jinhan hung the dog leash around Wei Ke’s neck, closed the door, and walked away without looking back.

Wei Ke watched the man’s receding figure, then looked down at the dog. Quanquan also stared at him in confusion. Man and dog stood facing each other in silence.

——

On the other side.

Bai Yu put away his phone and looked toward the window. The usual playful smile was gone from his face, replaced by a helpless sigh.

Song Yunfei hugged her knees, curled up in a single armchair, staring out the window in a daze.

This wasn’t the first time.

Aside from the first half-month after arriving, she had been going out less and less, and spending more and more time sitting in one place spacing out. Sometimes she would sit like that for an entire day.

At the beginning, when Bai Yu approached Song Yunfei, he simply wanted to see that face. Whether she was happy or not didn’t matter to him.

As long as he could see that face, speak to her, and fulfill a promise he had once failed to keep, nothing else mattered.

So when he first interacted with Song Yunfei, he tried several different personas, but none of them worked.

It wasn’t until she brought Chu Jinhan in front of him that a certain bond truly formed between them.

Gradually, Bai Yu came to feel more and more that, aside from himself, no one else could take care of her.

No matter the method or identity—if he could just keep her by his side and see her smiling every day, that would be enough.

But now he realized that he might not be the one who could make her happy.

He didn’t know when these complicated feelings had begun.

Perhaps, over the course of their time together, Song Yunfei had gradually come to resemble, in his mind, the younger sister he had once imagined.

In his imagination, when a younger sister grows up, she should be just like this.

Unknowingly, he hadn’t expected that what began as an act would turn real—he had taken it seriously.

He didn’t want to see her looking lost and despondent, and always felt the urge to do something.

The longer she stayed in this place, the more confused Song Yunfei became—reminding him of a hermit crab.

She felt that she was quite similar.

If she had known that heartbreak would be this terrifying, she would have confessed everything from the very beginning.

But that was only what she thought now. If she had the chance to start over, she would probably still make the same mistakes.

Even if the current her went back half a year to persuade her past self, she might not be able to change anything.

Suddenly, someone tapped her on the shoulder.

Song Yunfei turned her head—and was abruptly met with a huge green frog, so startled that she cried out and nearly fell off her chair.

After seeing clearly, she glared at it. “Bai Yu! Are you crazy?”

She hadn’t noticed when, but this guy had put on a full-body cartoon costume.

On the oversized headpiece, two bulging eyes stared blankly at her, and through the slit of its wide mouth one could vaguely see his chin inside—it looked truly… ridiculous.

The frog mascot awkwardly waved its short, stubby, webbed hands and said in a hoarse voice, “Please call me the Frog Prince.”

Seeing his silly and adorable appearance, Song Yunfei couldn’t help twitching the corner of her mouth—and finally burst out laughing.

She grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. “I think you’re just a toad!”

The frog puffed out his round belly, pointed at her with a short, thick finger, and declared, “How bold! My princely charm is not something mere mortals like you can judge! Punishment: give me two million, and become my mount!”

“……”

“I’ll buy you a planet while I’m at it, how about that?”

“If you’re so sensible, this prince will reluctantly forgive your rudeness.”

Saying that, he twisted his chubby body around, rummaged through a box behind him, and pulled out a small yellow chicken onesie costume.

He placed it in front of Song Yunfei and said, “From now on, you are this prince’s Chicken Knight. Hurry and put on your battle attire, and set out with me.”

Song Yunfei hugged the chicken costume, hesitating for two seconds. Looking at the giant green frog in front of her, a warmth rose in her heart.

She knew Bai Yu was trying to cheer her up—but still, “Why am I the knight?!”

“Alright then, you be the Chicken Princess, and I’ll be the Frog Knight.”

“That sounds more like it.”

Song Yunfei stood up, unzipped the costume, and put it on.

When she walked to the mirror and looked at herself, she saw a round yellow body, wings for arms, and a tuft of silly hair sticking up on top of her head, with her eyes slightly askew—looking just like that slanted-eye meme expression.

Even more absurd than that big frog.

The frog made a gentlemanly gesture and extended his short, thick hand toward her. “Chicken Princess, please allow this knight to lead the way.”

The little yellow chicken extended a wing and placed it on the frog’s webbed hand. “We’re really going out?”

“Correction: this is called an expedition.”

“……”

Song Yunfei didn’t really want to go out and embarrass herself, but the big frog had already pulled her along.

The green frog knight and the yellow chicken princess held onto each other—paw gripping wing—swaying unsteadily as they made their way toward the door. Because they were too bulky, they even got stuck in the doorway for quite a while.

In the end, they didn’t actually leave; they just played in the courtyard.

But somehow, as they played, they ended up fighting.

At this moment, the yellow chicken and the frog were grabbing each other by the neck, pressing their foreheads together in a test of strength.

“Stupid frog, let go first! Aren’t you a knight? How dare you rebel against your superior! Punishment: give me five million!”

“I’ve already usurped the throne. You’re now a fallen princess. Surrender quickly—call me ‘dear brother,’ and I’ll spare you.”

“Call your head!”

The yellow chicken suddenly let go and stepped back. Losing support, the frog plopped down onto the ground.

The yellow chicken immediately executed a “Mount Tai Press,” sitting heavily on his back.

“Ow… murder! Murder of your husband!” the frog groaned dramatically under the weight, flailing his short limbs randomly. “Domestic violence! This is outright domestic violence! I’m calling the police!”

The yellow chicken tightened her hold around his neck and snorted, “What domestic violence? I’m suppressing a rebel! Still talking big? You wouldn’t even dare have kids with me!”

The frog, who had been struggling a moment ago, suddenly froze.

He tilted his head back, his oversized eyes looking toward the iron gate in the distance.

He began frantically patting the yellow chicken on the back.

“What are you doing—trying to beg for mercy? Too late!”

The frog shook his head vigorously, signaling her to look toward the gate.

Song Yunfei looked up, peering through the gaps in the costume headpiece—and froze instantly.

Time seemed to stand still in that moment. The cold air, the rusted iron gate, and the surrounding scenery all blurred into insignificance.

Only two entangled mascots in the courtyard, and the man standing silently outside the gate in black, stood out in stark contrast.

Song Yunfei was still seated on the frog’s back, one wing still wrapped around his neck. The comical expression on her headpiece now appeared almost blank.

Her heart suddenly tightened, and her grip on Bai Yu’s arm unconsciously tightened as well.

Bai Yu struggled to pry her arm away, but she seemed completely unaware.

Outside the iron gate stood a man she had thought she would never see again in her lifetime.

He wore a black overcoat, his figure tall and straight, his dark hair dampened by mist and rain.

He stood there motionless, gazing at her through the rusted iron bars.

Until the frog beneath her finally let out a strained voice: “L-let go…”

Song Yunfei suddenly snapped back to reality and hurriedly climbed off his back.

Her round yellow figure looked around the courtyard in panic. Finding no way to escape, she stumbled toward the house.