FY - 9

The plump man, as Sister Hong had predicted, was very interested in Zhou Yan. As she spoke, his hand reached under her skirt, caressing her inner thigh, even attempting to invade forbidden territory.

Zhou Yan subtly dodged him several times, smiling and trying to divert his attention.

But it was clearly useless; the more she dodged, the more excited the plump man became. He even cupped her buttocks with both hands, pressing his face into her chest.

By all accounts, Zhou Yan should have been numb to such behavior, but why did she still feel disgusted?

She stood up, muttered “I’m sorry,” and started to walk out.

The plump man froze, then chased after her, pinning her against the door: “You shameless whore!”

The commotion was too loud, bringing the lively atmosphere in the private room to an abrupt halt.

Everyone looked over.

Zhou Yan’s spine hit the wall with a thud, forcing out a few muffled groans.

The plump man squeezed her face with one hand and tore her stockings with the other. The already low-quality black stockings immediately ripped into several holes, and under the laser lights, the flesh that squeezed out was glaringly white.

Zhou Yan always had ways to deal with these dog-like men, but today she felt a bit powerless: “I only sit at the table; I don’t go out.”

The plump man didn’t care what kind of ‘table’ she was. He was in a bad mood and came out to spend money. If spending money didn’t make him feel good, wasn’t that treating him like a fool? “I’m going to do you right now! Like a dog, how about that? Or like this?”

As he spoke, his hand began to reach between Zhou Yan’s legs.

Zhou Yan was utterly annoyed. She bit his plump face hard, buying herself a moment to breathe, then opened the door and ran.

This time, the plump man reacted quickly. He ignored the bloody teeth marks on his face and chased her out.

Zhou Yan didn’t dare to look back. She could almost imagine the grotesque face of the plump man behind her, like a monster covered in slimy, nauseating vomit, flicking its tongue, trying to lick her into its belly.

Fear seemed to breed in an instant. She had sat at tables for so many years, been groped countless times, yet never once had her face gone pale from fear.

She ran faster and faster, a myriad of sounds behind her stretching and slowing as they entered her ears.

As she got closer and closer to the door, her heart pounded faster and faster.

Finally, she reached it! The door was pushed open from the outside with a bang, hitting her and sending her body falling backward, slamming to the ground.

________________________________________

Zhou Yan woke up in Si Wen’s apartment.

She shook her head, got out of bed, and walked out barefoot, completely naked.

Si Wen had just finished a phone call on the balcony. When he came in and saw Zhou Yan, his usually calm expression suddenly hardened, “Put on some clothes! I don’t want to fuck you right now!”

As he spoke, he walked to the window, squatted down, and closed both windows.

Zhou Yan went back to the room to look for her clothes but couldn’t find them. She walked out again, still naked: “My clothes aren’t here.”

Si Wen then remembered that when he came back, he had thrown her clothes out the car window. When he got out of the car, he had wrapped her in his jacket and carried her up. So he walked to the walk-in closet, took out a tank top and capris, and threw them to her.

Zhou Yan put on the clothes and automatically walked into the kitchen, taking ingredients out of the refrigerator.

Si Wen didn’t bother with her.

Zhou Yan didn’t remember anything that happened after she fainted, but she hadn’t forgotten the last scene before she closed her eyes: she had been knocked down by the door, and as she fell, a pair of hands had caught her head.

She looked up at Si Wen. Could it have been him?

As the thought emerged, she shook her head, trying to clear it away.

Si Wen, that selfish old bastard, only cared about himself. How could he care about anyone else’s life or death? Moreover, to him, Zhou Yan wasn’t even a person; she was merely a tool for his indulgence, a dog he kept.

Her mind wandered, making her unable to concentrate on cutting vegetables, and she naturally cut her hand.

“Hiss—” She put down the knife, looking at the blood beads emerging from the cut on her hand, and subconsciously put it in her mouth to suck on it.

Si Wen heard the sound and looked over, instantly aroused by her action. His breathing became heavier.

Zhou Yan was oblivious. She licked it again, extended a pink tongue, then squeezed her finger to make it bleed more, and licked again. After a few cycles of this, Si Wen was drawn over. Across the counter, he pinched her face and kissed her.

The counter was about a meter wide. Si Wen, being tall, was fine, but Zhou Yan wasn’t. When he pinched her face, her feet almost lifted off the ground, and she quickly propped herself up with both hands on the countertop.

Si Wen’s tongue was very soft, and Zhou Yan liked it very much, but he rarely kissed her.

Thinking this, she, unusually bold, bit the tip of his exploring tongue and sucked.

Si Wen frowned, pulling away from her.

Zhou Yan belatedly realized, and when she looked at him again, his face was indeed unpleasant. But that was normal; he rarely had a pleasant expression.

Si Wen didn’t grab her and forcefully have his way with her, nor did he tell her to get lost. Instead, he walked back to the archway and continued to wipe his new golf club.

This made Zhou Yan curious.

At dinner, Zhou Yan waited for Si Wen to sit down first, and only after he gestured, did she sit down.

Neither of them spoke, eating quietly.

After eating, Zhou Yan cleared the dishes. By the time she finished washing the last bowl, Si Wen had already changed his clothes.

He looked good in black, only slightly less appealing than when he wore nothing. Zhou Yan glanced quickly, then looked away.

Si Wen left after getting ready, not looking at her once during the process.

Zhou Yan watched the door close, feeling much more comfortable, even humming a song to herself.

She was happily humming when Si Wen returned.

In the awkward gaze between them, Zhou Yan seamlessly recovered, returning to a state of walking death. Si Wen, however, was not. His thin lips were tightly pursed, clearly thirty-two parts displeased by Zhou Yan’s happiness the moment he left.

Zhou Yan was completely unfazed, showing not an ounce of fear at being caught.

As Si Wen’s expression grew uglier, she prepared herself, both physically and mentally. But he said nothing, did nothing, simply picked up what he’d left behind, and left again.

This made Zhou Yan even more curious.

She had been with Si Wen for so long and had never seen him restrain himself with her, whether in lust or in anger.

She walked into the side bedroom, the one she slept in, with her doubts. She planned to strip the sheets and duvet covers to wash them.

In the laundry hamper, she saw two pairs of his pants. She casually picked up one pair, turned it inside out, and draped it over her arm. As she picked up the other, a sheet of pills fell out from somewhere. She picked it up, flipped it over, and saw “Dongsheng Pharmaceutical” written as a large title.

Flipping it back, she started to feel that the pills looked familiar.

She pried open one pill and sniffed it. Memories of Si Wen feeding her medicine flooded her mind.

She closed her eyes. So that’s how it was.

So, her abnormal behavior with the plump man was because of these pills.

She remembered Si Wen saying that these pills were very effective for pain, and could also make one feel light, as if walking on air. The last time she took this medicine was because Si Wen had made her bleed during sex, and she had fainted several times from the pain. At that time, he gave her this medicine.

He also told her that the medicine had side effects: strong and continuous hallucinations, and while not addictive, it could create dependence.

In the past two weeks, during some of the more intense sessions, she had asked him for this medicine... It seemed she had overdosed.

Si Wen had a drug addiction; he took all kinds of drugs, mostly central nervous system depressants, and fewer opioids.

Zhou Yan had seen that taking drugs would relax him. So, when she asked him for them, and he gave them to her, was he also trying to relax her? And then, when he discovered the severe side effects on her, did he feel guilty? Is that why he’d been so abnormal all day?

Thinking of this, Zhou Yan smiled.

She should probably get her head checked; she was constantly thinking about things that didn’t exist.

Deluding herself into thinking the old bastard had grown a conscience—how was that different from hoping the sun would rise from the north?

Nonsense. Hilarious.