Back To The 80s: President's Doted Wife Chapter 1485 - 1486: A Plaything Doesn’t Work for Free

Chiang Qing's fingers quivered faintly as she gripped the newspaper, her glare scorching the broadly grinning woman in the article, desperate to sear straight through her.

A single snapshot sufficed to convey the person's utter bliss, her features alight with a sincere, deeply felt grin. How could any woman faring poorly or miserably display such a radiant smile?

Chiang Qing's stare slid from Cheng Su's countenance down to her swollen abdomen, her pupils contracting sharply, her visage turning ashen like parchment.

How was this possible? How could Cheng Su appear so elated? How?

While she herself languished in torment, leaping from one blazing abyss to the next, craving death yet barred from it, how could Cheng Su grin with such joy? How?

She wouldn't stand for it! She absolutely couldn't!

Chiang Qing's eyes flickered; she yanked a pen from the holder and jabbed viciously at the paper, shredding Cheng Su's image to bits.

Even bearing Qi Taiguo's offspring, embracing motherhood. Chiang Qing glowered at the protruding belly photo, driving the pen tip down hard amid piercing shrieks.

Nearby, the maid attending her hovered by the staircase, beholding her frenzy with terror etched on her face.

After unleashing her fury, Chiang Qing wadded the tattered newspaper into a lump and flung it into the wastebasket, then climbed the stairs.

Ignoring the maid frozen in panic at the landing, she bolted into her bedroom and slumped before the vanity mirror.

The mirror reflected a woman with shoulder-length hair, wide eyes, a gaunt pointed face, and sallow skin. Absent the malice in her gaze, it might have evoked men's sympathy.

Ample delicacy and woebegone charm, regrettably marred by the savage intensity in her eyes that shattered her vulnerable appeal.

Chiang Qing seized the blanket, draping it fully over the mirror, before collapsing onto the bed.

Since Gao Hongbo extracted her, she'd been confined to this modest villa, barred from venturing out. Any attempt to leave brought shadows trailing her. Within the estate, sans Gao Hongbo's approval, not a foot could she stray, with watchers dogging every move.

Freed from the asylum perhaps, yet under such constraints, what distinguished it from institutional lockdown?

It amounted to merely vaulting from one enclosure to another.

This confinement coerced acts she loathed to her core; more absurdly, she'd yielded, obeyed, yet failed to claim her wants.

That ancient schemer merely toyed with her, deeming her a fool!

Chiang Qing gnashed her teeth, fists clenching fiercely.

This existence couldn't persist; serving as a toy was tolerable if rewarded, but not without gain—she must extract value.

Chiang Qing shut her eyes, striving to steady her shaking form, reflecting on the path to ruin, pinpointing the fatal misstep.

How to reclaim control? Beyond clinging to that old monster, upon whom else could she lean?

"What fallback do you have? What bargaining chip?"

Jiang Dafang’s words abruptly surged in her thoughts.

Bargaining chip?

Chiang Qing bolted upright, clutching her head, attempting to untangle her mental storm. Her grandfather doted on her most tenderly, treated her finest, sharing frequent talks in the study—his counsel...

Chiang Qing creased her brow faintly, abruptly recalling a key detail.

Suddenly, arms encircled her from behind, the all-too-familiar yet revolting elderly odor invading her senses, her frame going rigid at once.

"You’re back!" She mustered a rigid smile, tilting her head just a bit, only for him to restrain her, a fabric blinding her vision.