#65: Kisses and Confessions (11)

Shi Yin froze for a moment before realizing what he meant.

“No, it’s not like that,” she hurriedly explained. “It’s just that when I came home last night—”

She trailed off.

She didn’t know how to explain.

When she had first returned home last night, she had indeed been afraid.

It was her first time being so close to someone in such a situation, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was following her. Instinctively, she had locked the door behind her.

The winter in the south was bitterly cold, dampness and chill seeping relentlessly into the body. Shi Yin had just crawled out of bed, her teeth chattering uncontrollably, and all she wanted was to dive back under the covers.

But Gu Congli looked far from okay.

She now understood his concerns—the things she had avoided for so long.

Shi Yin didn’t want to run anymore. She had been running since high school. She couldn’t spend her entire life being a coward.

Lowering her gaze, she reached out to take his hand.

That single touch completely stunned her.

Gu Congli’s body temperature had always been slightly low, but at this moment, his hand felt icy cold, sending a shiver through her entire body. She instinctively pulled her shoulders in tighter.

The man’s eyes were shadowed, his entire presence exuding an unbearable chill.

Before he could make any moves, Shi Yin suddenly stretched out both hands and pulled his hand toward her, wrapping it tightly in her palms.

Gu Congli paused, lowering his gaze.

The young girl was wearing a soft coral fleece nightgown, warm and cozy like a fluffy cloud of cotton candy. Her head bowed, her two hands struggling to encase his one. Her voice was soft and sticky. “Why are your hands so cold?”

The raging storm within him abruptly stilled.

It was as if a pair of gentle hands had softly calmed the restless soul within his body.

He didn’t speak. After she finished, she seemed to realize something and immediately lifted her head, glaring at him. “How long have you been standing out there?”

“I don’t know,” he said slowly.

Shi Yin tugged him inside, closing the door behind her while frowning. “If it was locked, why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you wake me up? You could’ve rung the doorbell! Why did you just stand there waiting? Are you stupid? Do you have any idea how cold it is outside right now?”

She pulled him over to the sofa, pressing him down to sit, then dashed back into the bedroom. A moment later, she returned with a thick blanket, wrapping it around him. As she adjusted it, she couldn’t help but scold him further. “You usually ring the doorbell so cheerfully. Why didn’t you press it this time when it mattered?”

Gu Congli let her fuss with the blanket, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t dare.”

Shi Yin froze.

His voice carried sharp shards of ice, piercing through her veins and leaving her aching.

Unaware of her shock, he pressed his lips together and lowered his gaze. “If I didn’t wake you, I could pretend you were asleep.”

If he had woken her and she still refused to appear, wouldn’t that mean she truly didn’t want him?

Gu Congli suddenly understood Shi Yin’s previous avoidance.

Compared to the cruel reality, even endless waiting felt like a rare indulgence.

He closed his eyes briefly, his voice rough with difficulty. “Shi Yin—”

Shi Yin knelt on the sofa, one hand clutching the blanket wrapped around him. Suddenly, she straightened up, supporting herself against the backrest of the sofa, and leaned down to kiss his lips.

His lips were cold, like ice, devoid of any warmth.

Her soft, warm tongue gently traced the seam of his cold lips, parting them and capturing the thin layer of flesh. Extending her legs, she straddled him, cradling his face from above, and began transferring her warmth to him bit by bit through their joined mouths.

Gu Congli stiffened, his eyelashes fluttering open. His light brown eyes widened slightly.

The girl kept her eyes closed, her long lashes trembling faintly before him. Her movements were clumsy yet gentle. The sleeve of her coral fleece gown slipped down, revealing her slender arms as they looped around his neck.

Shi Yin pulled back slightly, her nose brushing against his. Her breath was warm and sweet. “Teacher Gu, I really like you…”

Gu Congli stared at her, unmoving.

Her face was slightly flushed, her gaze lowered, unable to meet his eyes. “I’ve liked you for a very long time… for so, so long. I’ve always liked you.”

Her voice was soft, like the faint buzz of a mosquito, its long proboscis inching into his heart, tickling it with a tingling sensation.

Shi Yin wrapped her arms around his neck, her soft body pressing closer. She nuzzled against his neck, her warm breath caressing him. “I like every part of you, so don’t be afraid. I’m not going anywhere.”

The venom seeped into his body, piercing his heart and numbing his nerves.

Gu Congli raised his hand to wrap around her waist, cupping the back of her head, and captured her lips with his own.

Women were truly otherworldly temptresses.

They bewitched his mind, weakened his spirit, and made him willing to give her everything—even his life.

Between them lay the blanket, which Gu Congli casually tossed aside. His fingers slid beneath the hem of her gown, tracing the shallow curve of her waist before gripping her slender lower back. He pulled her tightly into his embrace, pressing her flush against him.

His hands had grown hot, his breathing heavy, his movements increasingly forceful. It was as if he had returned to that night in the karaoke bar, where his rationality had been shattered into pieces. He coaxed her tongue into his mouth, biting down and grinding against her.

Shi Yin whimpered in pain, instinctively trying to pull back. But he caught her, pulling her back in place. Her lower abdomen brushed against something firm, its shape gradually becoming apparent.

Shi Yin’s eyes widened as she gently pushed against his shoulder. Her tongue was still entangled with his, and through the haze of sensations, she felt his hand slide from the back of her head to her ear, then her neck, finally resting on her chest as he began unbuttoning her gown one button at a time.

It was early morning, and she had just crawled out of bed without putting on any underwear. Her soft, round curves peeked out, as white as fresh milk, like a bowl placed on a garden’s marble table in springtime. A gentle breeze passed by, and a beautiful pink cherry blossom drifted down into the bowl.

Then someone walked into the garden, sat beside the table, pinched the cherry blossom petal between their fingertips, and brought it to their lips for a delicate kiss.

Shi Yin whimpered, tilting her head back. Her fingers curled tightly around his shoulders, digging into the fabric of his coat.

Trembling slightly, she leaned forward, offering herself up.

If this was what he wanted, so be it.

After all, it was him.

It was Gu Congli—there was nothing she wouldn’t do for him.

With reddened eyes, Shi Yin tilted her head upward, gazing at the corner of the living room, her thoughts hazy.

But suddenly, he lifted his head.

Gu Congli’s lips were moist as he raised a finger to gently pull up her collar. Bowing his head, he meticulously re-buttoned each button.

The young girl’s tear-filled eyes searched for him, confused and wet. Her voice was soft and nasal, tinged with a slight sob: “I’m ready…”

Gu Congli clenched his jaw tightly, breathing heavily as he licked his lips and kissed her eyelids. “Not now…”

He raised a finger, gently brushing against her lips, which were smeared with a faint trace of blood. His voice was low, rough with desire: “Right now, I can’t control myself.”

Shi Yin steadied her breathing, regaining some composure. Her chest still tingled faintly, aching slightly.

The man was right in front of her, but she couldn’t touch him. Feeling wronged, she sniffled softly and licked her stinging lips. “You said you can’t control yourself… What happens if we go through with it?”

“I don’t know,” Gu Congli chuckled softly. “But you probably wouldn’t enjoy it very much.”

Shi Yin blushed, shifting backward slightly. “Will it hurt a lot?”

Gu Congli pinched her fingertips, massaging them gently. “Possibly.”

The blanket between them had been carelessly tossed to the floor. The stiff fabric of his pants pressed against her leg, leaving it slightly red from the friction. She pulled her hand free from his grip, pressing against his shoulder as she moved back slightly, sitting quietly as she looked at him. “But I thought that only this way would make you believe me.”

Gu Congli froze.

Her hand still rested on his shoulder as she lowered her gaze, speaking softly and slowly. “Before my cousin was getting married, my aunt didn’t want them to get married because my sister-in-law’s family has a few minor issues. But my sister-in-law is an amazing woman, so eventually, my aunt agreed. Later, I asked my mom—if she were my aunt, would she let me marry someone like that? My mom said, as long as they’re good to me, it doesn’t matter.”

She spoke indirectly, afraid he might not understand. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him. “Aunt Bai Lu is sick, but she’ll get better once she’s treated. Though she doesn’t seem to like me much… I need to let her get used to me.” She pursed her lips, gently pulling his hand toward her. “Next time you visit her, if you don’t want to go alone, take me with you, okay?”

Gu Congli didn’t respond.

The winter morning sunlight crept silently through the glass window into the corners of the room. The air conditioning hummed softly, making the air slightly dry.

For a long while, Gu Congli closed his eyes, concealing all emotions beneath his lids.

He gently embraced her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His voice was muffled, barely audible: “Alright.”

________________________________________

Later that afternoon, Bai Lu was taken away.

Shi Yin accompanied Gu Congli to the hospital. Bai Lu seemed to have a strong aversion to hospitals, appearing even more lifeless than the previous night. At the sound of the door opening, she shrank back fearfully.

Before leaving, Shi Yin saw her one last time.

Standing at the entrance of the hospital room, Shi Yin still felt a bit afraid. Gu Congli stood behind her, reaching back to close the door.

This was no ordinary hospital room—it was specially designed. The walls were padded with soft white foam, and there were no sharp-edged medical instruments in sight.

Shi Yin pursed her lips, cautiously approaching the bedside and maintaining a respectful distance. She gave a slight bow to the figure lying on the bed. “Hello, Aunt Bai Lu. I’m Shi Yin.”

Bai Lu turned her head to look at her, then suddenly began to cry.

Her tears flowed freely, her carefully styled hair from the previous day now disheveled. Large drops rolled down her cheeks as she looked at Shi Yin pleadingly, shaking her head. “Why are they keeping me locked up? I’m not sick—I’m fine. No one believes me… Even A-Li has abandoned me…”

Shi Yin’s heart ached, swelling with sorrow. She couldn’t bear to turn around and look at Gu Congli’s expression.

Every time he saw his mother like this, what must he have felt? She didn’t even dare to imagine.

On the way here, Gu Congli had told her a story.

The protagonist was a genius painter. Her mother was an artist, and her father was a businessman. From a young age, the girl was similar to her mother, possessing extraordinary talent in art.

The young woman was stunningly beautiful, with a gentle personality. Her sensitivity as an artist and her delicate femininity were fully embodied in her. She never disappointed her family, earning countless accolades at a young age.

Just as her career was about to reach its peak, she met a man.

No words could describe how she felt at the time. For nearly two decades, her life had been like a black-and-white silent film until he appeared, showing her true colors.

To her, this man was perfect.

She abandoned her career, pouring all her passion and fervor—which she had once devoted to painting—into this man.

But the intensity of her devotion burned too brightly, and when betrayal came, the backlash was devastating.

She soon realized that this man had no heart.

His personality lacked any emotional depth; he was like a flawless, cold machine, making decisions purely based on logic. His marriage, love, everything could be exploited for gain, sacrificed for profit.

The man had never loved her. He didn’t care who she was, only valuing her usefulness.

Her sensitive, fragile, and obsessive nature—a gift from heaven for her artistic pursuits—now became the key that unlocked the gates of hell.

Bai Lu struggled within her own delusions of a perfect, immaculate love. Meanwhile, Gu Lin watched the woman kneeling at his feet, crying, with cold indifference.

From that moment on, Gu Congli’s world—and the essence within his bloodline—began splitting into two parts.

Later, Gu Congli wondered: If he hadn’t met Shi Yin.

If he hadn’t encountered her, would he have truly gone mad?

Gu Lin was overly rational, while Bai Lu was consumed by raw emotion. Gu Congli became a combination of these two extremes. Either he would become another Gu Lin—a soulless machine driven solely by profit—or another Bai Lu.

In the Gospel of John, Jesus says: “Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness but will have the light of life.”

Stumbling alone in the dark, utterly exhausted, he knocked on a door and found her standing there, reaching out her hand to him.

And thus, he became her most devout believer.

She was his light.