Embedded Files
Psst! We're moving!
Song Zhi stared at the words on her phone screen, silent for a few seconds.
Why had she never realized how brazen Jiang Yanzhou was?
All the dirty talk in bed used to come from her. Song Zhi wanted to tear off Jiang Yanzhou’s serious and indifferent mask.
But Jiang Yanzhou rarely gave her such an opportunity.
No matter when, he was always cold and noble.
Casually distancing himself from everything around him.
Song Zhi hated his indifference, his lack of reaction to anything.
She could understand, but she still hated it.
A person’s personality is greatly influenced by their upbringing. During the years Song Zhi was with Jiang Yanzhou, she learned a thing or two about his family.
They couldn’t even be described as “relatives”; they were purely blood enemies.
Money and power were more important than anything else in their eyes.
Jiang Yanzhou, as the first in line for inheritance, naturally became the target of all, a thorn in everyone’s side.
His father was busy cavorting around, with no mind to spare for him.
His mother, even more so, harbored resentment and hated him to the bone.
Jiang Yanzhou grew up in such an environment, burdened by the pressure from his elders and the envy of his peers.
Countless eyes were on him. If he took a single wrong step, it would become leverage in the hands of those who could barely be called relatives.
At twenty-seven, an age where other second-generation heirs were still indulging themselves, Jiang Yanzhou had been so worn down that even his hobbies became a luxury.
He dared not relax for a moment; unseen ropes bound him.
Every step he took was constrained.
Song Zhi was the only ray of light in his life.
________________________________________
For an adult woman to have needs isn’t something difficult to talk about, but considering she had work tomorrow, Song Zhi still rejected him.
[Song Zhi: I have work tomorrow, I need to rest early today.]
About five minutes later, her phone vibrated a few times.
[Jiang Yanzhou: I’m already downstairs at your place.]
[Jiang Yanzhou: I have something to give you.]
Song Zhi was puzzled. What thing?
[Song Zhi: What?]
Jiang Yanzhou was playing coy.
[Jiang Yanzhou: I’ll tell you when you come down.]
Song Zhi’s curiosity was completely piqued by him.
Afraid of being discovered by Song Luo, she cautiously put on her coat and left her room. Song Luo, who had just been sitting in the living room watching TV, was nowhere to be seen.
Song Zhi breathed a sigh of relief, changed her shoes, and went out.
Jiang Yanzhou was in the garden downstairs, a few steps from her residential complex.
At this hour, many people were out for a stroll.
But Song Zhi still spotted Jiang Yanzhou waiting quietly at first glance.
He was too dazzling; even in a messy crowd, he easily became the focal point.
Younger girls occasionally passed by, their gazes, without exception, falling on him.
They wanted to ask for his number but were too shy and hesitated to approach.
Until a woman wearing a mask walked over. Even dressed in ordinary cotton pajamas, her good figure could not be concealed.
The man, with cold, clear eyes, clearly softened when he saw her.
The younger girls who had been cheering each other on instantly knew they had no chance and left disappointedly.
Song Zhi was afraid of being recognized. She wore a mask and also put on a pair of glasses without lenses.
She was wearing pajamas underneath and just threw on a coat over them.
The wind outside was strong, and her clothes weren’t thick, making her shiver from the cold.
“Is there anything that can’t be brought tomorrow?”
She wished she had known it was so cold outside; she would have put on something thicker before coming down.
Jiang Yanzhou looked at her body, huddled together from the cold, and didn’t hesitate, taking off his own coat and draping it over her.
He must have just returned from the company, dressed impeccably, formal and serious.
Song Zhi casually calculated the price of Jiang Yanzhou’s coat and instantly felt like a walking gold mine at that moment.
He gently asked her: “Still cold?”
Although she didn’t know what kind of secret he was keeping, Song Zhi wasn’t the kind of girl who would be moved by small favors and follow someone.
“It’s alright.”
All she wanted at that moment was to get back into her warm bed. She asked him directly, “Don’t you have something to give me?”
She extended her hand, raised it slightly, making a gesture to ask for something.
Quite direct.
He knew Song Zhi’s personality all too well.
He could feel that her feelings for him had faded, at least to the point of being dispensable.
Jiang Yanzhou was not accustomed to this indifference. His eyes dimmed slightly, and a sharp, needle-like pain pricked his chest.
Song Zhi had no shortage of suitors and didn’t have to have him.
That’s why Jiang Yanzhou was afraid.
He couldn’t imagine what would happen to him if she got together with someone else; perhaps the last taut string would completely snap.
From the day he was born, he had been doing things he loathed every single moment.
His life had been planned long ago; even before his birth, his future was set.
As the eldest grandson of the Jiang family, the education he received was different from others.
As an heir, he couldn’t choose his own path. His childhood dreams were extinguished before they could even form.
Like being placed in a mold, he grew according to their ideas.
Vibrancy and sunshine were completely erased.
Those on whom too much hope is placed are destined not to have an easy life.
He had no interest in a future where he could see the end at a glance.
Until he met Song Zhi, a little unexpected twist appeared in his dull life.
It was the first time he wanted to understand a person so much.
He wanted to get close to her, wanted to possess her.
He instinctively treated her well, yet he stubbornly resisted her advances.
Song Zhi, that person, was proud and conceited.
He worried that her liking was just a fleeting interest.
“What you can’t get is the best.”
Song Zhi said this herself, though he couldn’t remember the exact context.
But this phrase, he remembered for many years.
He was afraid, afraid that Song Zhi would place her arrogance on this relationship, afraid that she would see him as just one of her many admirers.
Afraid that once her novelty wore off, she would abandon him.
He was afraid of many things, afraid that she wouldn’t want him.
But among so many ways, he chose the most wrong one.
He was the one who pushed her away with his cold attitude.
Because they have emotions, humans become the most complex animals.
No one had taught him how to get along with a girl he liked. All he had learned, repeatedly, was: “You are the eldest grandson of the Jiang family. You must be the best at everything. No matter what you do, you must be first.”
He grew up in such a high-pressure environment.
People outside the high walls envied him, while he envied those outside the high walls, for at least they had freedom, the freedom to choose their own future.
Song Zhi yawned, tears of sleepiness welling in the corners of her eyes. She impatiently urged: “Hurry up, I’m in a hurry to go back to sleep.”
She had taken off her mask at some point; her bare face was clear and beautiful.
The dull ache in Jiang Yanzhou’s heart gradually disappeared.
Seeing her face, even the greatest sadness seemed to be offset.
He slightly pursed his lips, a soft smile, and held out her left hand: “Me.”
The slightly cool touch of her palm made Song Zhi pause for a moment. Jiang Yanzhou had taken off his coat for her, and he was only wearing a shirt.
She blinked: “?”
Jiang Yanzhou didn’t want to hold back anymore. He used force on her wrist, pulling her into his embrace.
Holding her gently: “I’m giving myself to you, is that okay?”
He asked cautiously, full of tentative hope.
Jiang Yanzhou, who had been ruthless and decisive, acquiring the companies of several elders he had called “uncle” since childhood, and remained unmoved when called cold-blooded to his face.
Yet at this moment, his fingertips were cold and trembling from fear.
He was afraid Song Zhi would say “no.”
He came today simply to see her.
Having tasted the sweetness, he missed her too much.
Song Zhi thought he was drunk again. She sniffed, no alcohol smell.
What kind of madness was that?
She pushed him away: “Having Song Luo at home is already headache enough.”
This statement was a rejection with another meaning.
Jiang Yanzhou’s eyes darkened slightly, and the taut string in his heart completely snapped.
Song Zhi didn’t want him anymore.
As the night grew later, the people out for a stroll gradually dispersed and went home. The large park instantly became quiet.
Song Zhi saw Jiang Yanzhou’s dejected expression and frowned.
Could he really be drunk?
She called his name: “Jiang Yanzhou.”
No response.
She grew more worried and walked closer, calling out: “Jiang Yan—”
The word “zhou” was swallowed by the embrace.
Unlike the cautiousness just now, this hug was urgent and passionate.
His low, breathless voice whispered in her ear: “Then I’ll pursue you again.”
Song Zhi, completely stunned by his words, did not respond for a long time.
Jiang Yanzhou hugged her tighter: “Even if it’s just friends with benefits, it’s okay. I can satisfy you, no matter in what way.”
He said: “Just wait a little, don’t rush to say yes to anyone else, okay?”
The latter words were almost a plea.
“Oh,” before Song Zhi could answer, a chilling laugh came from beside them, “Cheating, are we?”
The familiar voice sent a chill down Song Zhi’s spine.
She slowly looked up. Song Luo, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, was coldly watching the scene.
Song Zhi instinctively shielded Jiang Yanzhou behind her: “Song Luo, listen to me explain.”
He spat out the unlit cigarette from his mouth, rolled up his sleeves, and walked over: “Get out of the way. I need a word with him.”
“Forget it, he didn’t take too much advantage of me anyway.”
“He just hugged you and that’s not taking advantage? What is taking advantage then, going to a hotel?”
Song Zhi explained: “We didn’t hug. I was just a little cold, and he was putting his coat on me.”
It was dark there, and there were no streetlights, so Song Zhi guessed Song Luo hadn’t seen much, and thus she spoke nonsense.
The latter indeed paused, half-believing her, looking at Jiang Yanzhou and asking: “Is she telling the truth? You really didn’t hug?”
As Song Zhi breathed a sigh of relief, Jiang Yanzhou said: “We did.”
Song Zhi: “?????”
...
In the living room, Song Zhi was applying medicine to Jiang Yanzhou’s bruised face. Song Luo had hit him without restraint, and when Song Zhi scolded him, he felt quite wronged: “How was I supposed to know he wouldn’t dodge or fight back?”
The person who usually fought with fierce intensity had, surprisingly, become docile today.
He had taken that punch squarely.
Song Zhi glared at him.
Song Luo knew he was in the wrong and sat silently on the sofa.
The more he looked, the more he felt something was off with Jiang Yanzhou.
The once arrogant person who looked down on everyone was now submissive, sitting quietly on the sofa, waiting for Song Zhi to apply medicine.
He looked quite pitiful, but Song Luo also felt that this pitifulness was very deliberate.
Damn it.
Having figured it out, he stood up unhappily: “I told you, my punch wasn’t that heavy. You’re not faking it, are you?”
Here, faking pity to gain sympathy.
Jiang Yanzhou clutched Song Zhi’s sleeve, remaining silent.
Song Zhi felt a pang of guilt. Jiang Yanzhou had taken that punch for no reason, and his left cheek was swollen.
She stood up: “Song Luo, are you done or not? You hit him and don’t apologize, and now you’re here twisting the truth.”
Song Luo was speechless by her words: “No, he really...”
Jiang Yanzhou, behind Song Zhi, finally looked up and smiled at him.
The slightly curved lips carried a hint of provocation and smugness.
Song Luo: “Damn it!”
This bastard is just a green tea.
Song Zhi really didn’t want to bother with Song Luo anymore. She helped Jiang Yanzhou back to her room to continue applying medicine.
“Don’t overthink what he said. He’s just concerned about me.”
Jiang Yanzhou nodded understandingly: “I know.”
Song Zhi gently dabbed at his slightly broken lip with a cotton swab: “Does it still hurt?”
He shook his head: “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
After applying the medicine, Song Zhi put the medicine box away.
Song Luo had changed a bit over the years. At least after he punched Jiang Yanzhou just now, he went back, picked up the cigarette he had just thrown, and honestly threw it into the trash can.
Before, if he saw a soda can on the ground, he would just kick it away.
Song Zhi stood up: “Since you’re fine, I’ll walk you downstairs.”
Jiang Yanzhou’s expression shifted, then he clutched his chest and coughed violently.
Google Sites
Report abuse