Chapter 1585: My Wife Loves Me, and I Love My Wife

Zhi’er’s face changed.

She felt a foreboding sense rising in her heart.

Could it be that this girl named Tang Qian has already met with misfortune?

Between breaking in and divining, Zhi’er chose to divine.

Her fingertips quickly computed twice.

Virtual divination showed that the person she was looking for was not home and would soon return.

Zhi’er breathed a sigh of relief.

As long as she’s not dead, that’s good.

Since she’s not home, she’ll wait.

Waiting at the door was boring, so Zhi’er simply took the elevator to the rooftop.

Standing on the rooftop of the tall building, she gazed at the gathering dark clouds not far away.

“It’s going to rain; I hope this Miss Tang comes home soon.”

If she doesn’t see Tang Qian before the heavy rain, according to the divination, she’ll have to wait at least until midnight.

Then, Zhi’er took out the Qiankun Bag, pulled out a chaise lounge to set up, and placed a few oil-paper umbrellas, fixed over her head.

She took out sweet grapes and tea she had put in last night, eating while waiting for the rain.

The fierce wind blew, yet it did not disorder her clothes in the slightest.

“3…” Zhi’er seemed to listen to the distant sounds: “2…”

As she raised her head and looked at the pitch-black sky: “1.”

Crash——

It started pouring rain.

Zhi’er divined once and they still hadn’t returned.

She somewhat helplessly lay back on the chair: “Just knew I’d have to keep waiting.”

The turbulent rain didn’t wet her in the least.

After a while, Zhi’er fell asleep waiting.

She lay on her side, her ankle still wearing high heels resting on the edge of the chaise, sleeping peacefully on a roll of books.

No idea how much time passed, but the ringtone “Wife loves me, I love wife” startled her awake.

She suddenly opened her eyes, looked around, and found the sky had long since turned dark.

The rain had ceased, leaving only the autumnal chill.

From the Qiankun Bag, the phone’s ringtone continued relentlessly.

Zhi’er hurriedly took it out and pressed the answer button.

A gentle, deep voice carried over from the other side: “Hello? Madam, can you hear me?”

Zhi’er rubbed her eyes and sat up: “Yes.”

Feng Fuce paused, the firelight behind him blazing brightly, casting a glow on his suit.

His sharp brows slightly raised: “Your voice sounds like you just woke up.”

Zhi’er yawned: “Yeah, Tang Qian isn’t home, I didn’t want to wait foolishly, so I came to the rooftop where there’s no one, set up a lounger, and slept.”

“Hmm, it’s dark now,” she took the phone down to glance at the time, already 11 PM: “I guess she should be back.”

Feng Fuce laughed lazily: “Good, if that’s the case, I’m relieved, because I can’t come to pick you up for now. When you’re done, call me with the current phone, or if you really can’t use it, use mana to transmit your voice.”

Zhi’er responded with a hum, hearing the piercing sound of sirens from his end.

She immediately frowned: “What’s going on over there? Are things not going smoothly?”

Feng Fuce glanced back at the fire scene.

“We arrived a bit late. Yang Jian’s house caught fire; the ambulance has already taken him away. He seems badly burned, but his life was saved.”

When they arrived, Yang Jian’s villa was already engulfed and surrounded by flames, and as this area is a development zone with no nearby villas yet sold, there’s no one to help call the police.

Feng Fuce was the one who called the police while Fen Linxing kicked open the living room’s floor-to-ceiling window.

Then dragged him out barehanded.

Coincidentally, within ten minutes, the police and firefighters arrived.