Born in the 1980s, she was remarried and became a stepmother; a cold, rough man doted on her, pinchi

Chapter 100 I will make you pay the price!
#After that kitchen incident, Jiang He's life was like a small boat in a stormy sea, temporarily finding a peaceful harbor.

She continued to work tirelessly in the small restaurant every day, washing mountains of dishes with her hardworking hands. In her spare time, she would search for Lin Yanqing's whereabouts with hope in her heart.

However, the dismissed chef, like a venomous snake lurking in the darkness, harbored a deep-seated hatred for her, and a crisis was quietly brewing.

Night fell like a heavy black silk, completely enveloping the city.

After a long day of hustle and bustle, Jiang He dragged her exhausted body slowly back to the small hotel.

The streetlights on both sides of the street emitted a dim and weak light, like a sickly old woman, weakly casting her long and thin shadow.

The cold wind, like a sharp blade, relentlessly cut her cheeks. The street was so quiet that only the sound of her lonely footsteps could be heard. Occasionally, a gust of cold wind would blow by, stirring up the withered yellow leaves on the ground, making a rustling sound, as if it were some kind of ominous omen hidden in the darkness.

Jiang He was completely unaware that a dark shadow was following her closely, like a ghost, not far behind her.

It was the dismissed chef; his eyes were bloodshot, like two fireballs burning with hatred, and his face was filled with twisted resentment.

He gripped a thick wooden stick tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning white from the force, and step by step, like a predatory beast, he cautiously and maliciously approached Jiang He.

Jiang He walked into the small hotel. The owner at the front desk was dozing off on the counter, his soft snoring echoing in the quiet space.

She tiptoed past, careful not to disturb the boss, and then slowly made her way down the narrow and somewhat dilapidated stairs to her room.

She took out her key, opened the door, and found the room pitch black, like a black hole that swallowed everything.

She groped along the wall, pressed the switch, and the warm light instantly filled the entire room, dispelling some of the fear brought by the darkness.

Jiang He breathed a sigh of relief. Today's work was exceptionally hard. The heavy physical labor made her limbs feel as heavy as lead. All she wanted to do was wash up quickly and then lie down on the bed for a good night's sleep.

She was completely unaware that the dark figure had silently slipped into the hotel and was slowly ascending the stairs, each step seeming to tread on the strings of Jiang He's fate, playing a dangerous melody.

Jiang He went into the bathroom, turned on the tap, and cool water poured out, making a gurgling sound.

She dipped her hands into the water, scooped up a handful of cool water, and splashed it on her face, trying to use the cold touch to dispel her fatigue. The sound of the flowing water masked the subtle movements outside, while danger was drawing ever closer.

The chef arrived at Jiang He's door. He listened intently to make sure that the only sound inside was running water, then a sinister smile crept across his lips.

He gently turned the handle and found the door unlocked. A surge of joy rose within him, as if fate were tacitly approving his plan for revenge. He slowly pushed open the door, the wooden door creaking softly, sounding like a sharp alarm in the eerily quiet night.

Upon hearing the sound, Jiang He was startled, and her heart pounded wildly, as if it were about to burst out of her chest.

She quickly turned off the tap, strained her ears, and her nerves were on edge.

"Who?"

She asked in a trembling voice, her voice sounding so thin and helpless in the silent room, as a strong sense of foreboding welled up inside her.

However, she was met with only a deathly silence, a silence that enveloped her like an invisible net.

Jiang He took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, but her trembling hands betrayed her inner fear. Her eyes darted frantically around the room, searching for something she could use as a weapon.

Finally, her gaze fell on the towel lying to the side. She reached out and gripped it tightly, using it as a makeshift weapon, though she knew it might be insignificant in the face of real danger. She cautiously stepped out of the bathroom, her eyes rapidly scanning the room. Suddenly, she saw a dark figure dart out from a corner like a hungry wolf. Before she could react, the chef was already in front of her.

"You bitch, you made me lose my job!"

The cook roared, his voice seemingly emanating from the depths of hell, filled with endless resentment. He raised the wooden stick high and brought it crashing down on Jiang He's head.

Jiang He stared in horror, her eyes wide. At that moment, time seemed to freeze, and she could clearly see the chef's distorted face and the trajectory of the falling wooden stick.

Instinctively, she raised her arm to block. The wooden stick landed heavily on her arm, and a sharp, piercing pain shot through her, as if countless needles were pricking her skin. She couldn't help but scream, "Help!"

The sound echoed in the small room, filled with fear and despair.

The cook showed no sign of stopping. Like a mad beast, he continued to swing the wooden stick, cursing incessantly: "I'll teach you to meddle! I'll teach you to ruin me!"

As Jiang He dodged the attacks, she ran towards the door. Only one thought occupied her mind: escape the room and have a chance to call for help.

However, the chef seemed to have seen through her thoughts. He rushed to the door and blocked Jiang He's way like an insurmountable wall.

"You're not getting away today!"

The chef said viciously, his eyes filled with madness and determination, as if he wanted to devour Jiang He alive.

Jiang He was cornered against the wall. Her body trembled uncontrollably with extreme fear. Her legs were weak and she could barely stand. Tears welled up in her eyes and slid down her cheeks.

"Please, please don't hurt me..."

Jiang He cried and pleaded, her voice filled with despair and helplessness, like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

But the cook, blinded by hatred, raised his stick again, ready to deliver a fatal blow to Jiang He. At that critical moment, Jiang He caught a glimpse of a vase beside the bed; it was one she had bought from a street stall to decorate the simple room.

Without thinking, she used all her strength to reach for the vase and smash it at the chef.

The vase arced through the air, striking the chef squarely on the head with a loud bang. It shattered instantly, shards flying everywhere. The chef screamed, clutching his head, blood gushing from between his fingers.

The wooden stick in his hand clattered to the ground. Taking advantage of the moment, Jiang He rushed to the door, opened it with all her might, and screamed for help at the top of her lungs: "Help! Someone help me!"

The front desk owner was awakened from his sleep by the cries for help, and his face turned ashen instantly.

Without thinking twice, he rushed towards the source of the sound. When he reached Jiang He's room, he saw a chaotic scene. Jiang He was collapsed on the floor crying, while the chef stood to the side, his face covered in blood, looking disheveled and ferocious.

The boss was also startled by the scene before him. He paused for a moment, then reacted.

Seeing that things were going badly and that he had been exposed, the chef knew that continuing the charade would only bring him more trouble. Ignoring the wound on his head, he turned and rushed towards the window.

The window wasn't locked. He pushed it open forcefully, then leaped out and disappeared into the night.

Jiang He collapsed to the ground and burst into tears. The boss quickly stepped forward, knelt down, and comforted her: "Girl, don't be afraid, it's alright now, I've already called the police."