Hiding a Wild Man

Alexander Hayes looked utterly aggrieved, his dark eyes watery as he gazed at Lily Evans, just like a pitiful puppy.

"Who are you calling your wife? Don't say nonsense!" Lily's hand trembled and nearly smashed the pot. What was going on here?

Alexander wore only an undershirt, showing off a striking chest and waistline, his long legs lean and strong. His looks were exceptional—sharp brows, bright eyes, and a physique that reminded Lily of her favorite modern celebrity.

Yet, for some reason, Lily felt that this tall, handsome man radiated a certain air of foolishness.

Alexander's stomach growled loudly. He pitifully licked his lips, looking absolutely famished, but too timid to ask for food—adorable and pitiable all at once.

Lily's heart softened. She ladled out a bowl of sweet potato porridge for him and had him sit on a small stool by the stove to eat.

Outside, Helen Parker, the Evans family's eldest daughter-in-law, kicked open the fence gate and shouted at the top of her lungs, "Where's Lily Evans? Dead yet? If not, get your lazy self out here now!"

Hearing Helen's voice, Lily's face immediately darkened. She whispered to Alexander, "Stay here and eat. Don't go outside, understand?"

She was hiding a half-dressed stranger in her house. If anyone found out, it would be a disaster.

"Mm-hmm, I'll be good and listen." Alexander nodded obediently, looking extra well-behaved.

Lily left the kitchen, closing the door behind her. Helen Parker had already barged into the house, bringing along two of Arthur Miller’s hired thugs. Not seeing Lily inside, she grabbed Margaret Evans by the collar and snarled, "You wretch, where are you hiding Lily? Don’t think jumping into the river means you can escape marriage. Today, I’ll tie you up and drag you to the Miller Estate if I have to!"

Margaret Evans, frail and slight, couldn’t fight off the burly Helen Parker and burst into tears, "Just kill me! I’d rather die than let my daughter jump into a pit of fire!"

Helen slapped Margaret to the ground, digging her nails into Margaret’s waist until she drew blood, cursing, "Ungrateful wretch! Then go ahead and die!"

"Mom! Let go of my mom!" Lily ran in from outside, her eyes blazing with anger.

Margaret shouted to Lily, "Ali, don’t come over! Run! Go find the village chief for help!"

"Trying to run?" Helen sneered, turning to the thugs, "Well, don’t just stand there—take our seventeenth concubine home!"

Lily tried to escape and get help, but it was too late. The two thugs grabbed her arms. "Such a pretty little thing—being married to Mr. Miller will be wonderful. He’ll treat you real nice."

But just then, the man Lily had rescued suddenly dashed out of the kitchen, kicking both thugs to the ground and pulling Margaret up to shield her. He was incredibly strong, and his kick sent the tough men rolling in pain.

Lily blinked, finding herself swept into a strong embrace. Alexander’s handsome face was full of worry. "Wife, are you hurt? Does it hurt anywhere?"

Helen stared in shock at the tall stranger who’d appeared out of nowhere. She could tell he wasn’t easy to deal with. Then, shrieking like a stuck pig, she pointed at Lily, her eyes full of venom. "Well, Lily Evans, you’re just like your mother—a shameless floozy! No wonder you won’t marry Mr. Miller. Turns out you’re hiding a wild man at home, half-naked and hugging in public! Disgraceful! I’ll teach you a lesson today, you brazen hussy!"

Helen was used to being a bully, always beating and scolding Lily in the past. Now, out of habit, she raised her right hand to slap Lily across the face.

But things were different now. Lily and her mother were no longer alone and defenseless. Helen’s slap was stopped halfway—Alexander grabbed her wrist. "You’re not allowed to bully my wife!"