TSDT - 47

That night, Jiang Ying studied several similar cases, her mind a bit muddled, unable to sleep. She simply went to the living room couch, watching videos and waiting for Meng Jingshu to return.

When he opened the door and saw her waiting, his eyes lit up with surprise. Without a word, he simply scooped her up in a princess carry and brought her back to the big bed in the room.

He followed, pressing down on her.

But no matter how handsome the man was, he smelled of the dinner party, which was quite unbearable.

Jiang Ying placed her foot on his chest, forcefully stopping him.

“Go take a shower, go take a shower!”

The alcohol was getting to his head, half-drunk. His stern eyebrows were flushed a faint red, and when he looked at her, a hint of allure flowed from his eyes. Or perhaps it was only when he looked at her.

He suddenly gripped her slender ankle, lowered his head, and kissed the top of her foot.

The sensation was warm, wet, and slippery. Jiang Ying shivered, feeling as if ants were crawling all over her. He seemed to be smiling slyly, still holding her foot and attempting something improper.

“Oh, you...” Jiang Ying kicked her feet, whispering to him, “You go shower first, later, later I’ll... is that okay?”

He pressed his advantage: “And the tie.”

“...”

He started taking off his clothes.

“It’s settled then!”

He grinned playfully, tickling the sole of her foot, and finally went to the bathroom.

Jiang Ying felt like crying.

While he was showering, various fragments flashed through her mind.

During college, there was a craze for adult videos in their dorm. The environment was still lenient then, with abundant resources everywhere, allowing them to broaden their horizons. So now that he wanted to try different things, she wasn’t completely against it...

But it was just... too surreal...

High school was when she frequently fantasized about Meng Jingshu, but those fantasies were always pure. For a long time, Meng Jingshu was just a cool, standoffish handsome boy in her mind—approachable but not to be trifled with.

So how exactly did all of this happen?

For the past few years, their acquaintance had been casual, and she thought they wouldn’t have any more interaction. Yet, inexplicably, such a relationship began overnight, and it kept deepening.

Jiang Ying was engrossed in it but couldn’t help but wonder if fate was just playing a trick on them.

Or had her obsession turned her into a demon, creating an illusion?

He even said... he loved her.

________________________________________

The sound of water in the bathroom suddenly stopped, and Jiang Ying received a call.

Seeing the contact name on the screen, the haze in Jiang Ying’s mind cleared instantly. Her scalp tightened. Thinking it was one death or another, she gritted her teeth and answered.

“Hello, why aren’t you asleep so late?”

When Meng Jingshu came out, he heard her soft-spoken words and immediately frowned.

The voice on the other end of the phone said, “Late for what?! It’s eleven in the morning here.”

Meng Jingshu couldn’t hear the content of the call, only that it was a man. Then he saw Jiang Ying pursing her lips and smiling, “Oh, so that’s how it is...”

An intimate interjection.

His brow furrowed, his voice instantly several degrees colder, as he asked her, “Who is it?”

He deliberately didn’t control his volume, ensuring the person on the other end could hear.

Sure enough, the other side asked, “Why is someone talking there?!”

Jiang Ying was exasperated. She glared at Meng Jingshu and said into the phone, “It’s the TV!”

Meng Jingshu came over, grabbed her wrist tightly, and asked again in a cold, low voice, “Who?”

Jiang Ying glared back and simply showed him the call screen.

It was Xu Jiahong.

He let go of her hand.

Jiang Ying endured Xu Jiahong’s barrage of complaints, helplessly saying, “It’s no use telling me all this...”

Meng Jingshu was still gloomy beside her, like a surveillance camera. Jiang Ying ungraciously pushed him aside and moved to another room to continue arguing.

Xu Jiahong was naturally calling to talk about Huang Yanfei. For the past two months, he had been subtly showing affection, and they had maintained a lukewarm state. He had been planning a full-scale offensive when he returned to the country. Who knew that at this critical juncture, things would change?

Huang Yanfei had been cold to him for a while, and today she finally laid her cards on the table. He was unwilling to accept it and pressed hard, only to find out that Jiang Ying had been acting as a matchmaker. He was furious and called her immediately, without checking the time, to give her a piece of his mind.

After being scolded for a few minutes, Jiang Ying’s guilt vanished. She roared back indignantly, “Did I not help you or speak well of you? You’re useless, couldn’t seal the deal in two months! If she didn’t like you, she didn’t like you! If it’s going to rain, and a mother’s going to marry, what can I do?!”

Momentum is a give and take. With her outburst, Xu Jiahong’s anger turned to dejection. He wilted, knowing he couldn’t blame anyone. He exchanged a few more words with Jiang Ying, then hung up shortly after.

Life is unpredictable, and bystanders can only sigh.

Jiang Ying had yelled at Xu Jiahong a bit and was now thirsty, so she went out to get some water.

The other person in the room was sitting on the sofa, smoking. He was hunched over, his elbows resting casually on his thighs, half-lidded eyes exhaling smoke.

This uninhibited posture was like a street thug.

Jiang Ying glared at him indignantly.

Meng Jingshu heard her footsteps, looked up, and received her resentful gaze, instantly pausing.

But she said nothing more, turning to go to the dining room to pour water.

He felt a little uneasy.

She... no longer tried to make him quit smoking.

In the past, whenever she caught him smoking, the good student in her would get anxious and seize any opportunity to persuade him. Their seats were always close, making it very convenient for her.

She seemed to possess some magical power. Her concern for him, from the very beginning, was so natural and unforced, as if it were simply meant to be. She never felt shy or retreated due to others’ opinions, nor did she ever aim to please him.

She rarely lectured him about school rules; every time she nagged, it was always from his own perspective, especially trivial and earnest.

For example,

“You, oh, you can’t just smoke because it looks cool, you know. Have you forgotten the picture in the health education textbook, the smoker’s lung, all black! We’re still young now, you might not feel it, but over time, not only will your lungs turn black, you’ll also become ugly... You can’t become ugly...”

At this point, her own face flushed.

How many teenagers are eager to listen to lectures? But seeing her anxious and serious expression, he simply couldn’t get annoyed, and even found it a little amusing. So even though she nagged him repeatedly, he, being someone who disliked being controlled, never showed displeasure.

Those trivial details, tossed aside during his carefree youth, increasingly seemed to be attracted by a magnetic field, springing out one by one to piece together, fragmented and warm, ever new.

At that time, she liked him, didn’t she? Probably not deeply? So there was no need to say it out loud.

Now, her concern for him seemed to be less than before. But what right did he have to demand that she never change?

He couldn’t help but repeatedly make comparisons, only to repeatedly torment himself in the resulting disparity.

Two fresh cigarette butts lay in the ashtray. Meng Jingshu picked open the cigarette pack with one hand, about to take out a third.

“Meng Jingshu,” Jiang Ying’s voice floated over, “If I don’t say anything, you just have no self-awareness, do you?”

She sat leaning back in the dining chair, holding a water glass in one hand, her face turned, looking over from a distance.

She slightly raised her chin: “Put down the cigarette.”

Few people dared to use imperative sentences with him anymore.

Meng Jingshu subconsciously licked his teeth, and actually put it down.

He got up and walked towards her.

He sat down beside Jiang Ying and asked her, “Angry?”

A straight man only grasps one key point.

Jiang Ying couldn’t help but laugh: “Not angry, but it’s too late, don’t smoke anymore.”

She held the cup to his lips: “Drink some water.”

Meng Jingshu held her wrist, lowered his head to accommodate her hand, and finished the remaining small half cup of water.

He looked at her for two seconds and asked, “What did Xu Jiahong want to talk to you about?”

Jiang Ying raised an eyebrow: “Just, complaining about work and housing.”

His heart sank. He intuitively knew that wasn’t the truth, but she didn’t want to say.

He asked again, “Why did you say I was the TV sound? Can’t you tell him?”

“...You know he’s a blabbermouth. If he knows, the whole class will know.”

“Why can’t the whole class know?”

Jiang Ying didn’t even think: “It just can’t, for now.”

“When can it?”

“We’ll see later.”

“Why?” he asked somewhat stubbornly.

“Why is there a ‘why’? Many things just don’t have a ‘why’.”

“There is.”

“Then you tell me,” she looked directly into his eyes, “Why do you want to be with me?”

He held her gaze for a long time, stubborn and silent, almost turning into a stern statue.

After speaking in a tongue-twister manner for a long time, Jiang Ying thought he might be a little tipsy. She touched his face; it was a bit warm.

“Are you drunk? Let’s go to sleep.”

“No.”

Meng Jingshu grabbed her hand, pulled hard, and Jiang Ying fell into his embrace, pinned to his lap.

He said, “You promised me.”

Jiang Ying feigned ignorance: “What?”

He kissed down her neck, his voice growing husky: “You promised.”

Half-drunk, but he remembered quite clearly.

Jiang Ying smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

His passion was always easily ignited; a brief kiss was the fuse.

Jiang Ying was lifted into the air and quickly fell onto something soft, but it was too quick.

“...Why on the sofa?”

He passionately sucked and kissed, his hands ceaseless: “No reason.”

He just remembered when she came to see him when he was sick, measuring his temperature in the middle of the night, accompanying him to the hospital, and the next day, even though she was too tired to open her eyes, she still remembered to change his bedding and then, without any fuss, curled up on this sofa for an afternoon nap.

That day, in the warm autumn, sunlight streamed through the window screen, casting a hazy golden glow on her long hair spread out behind her.

The feeling of that day, he would never forget in this life.

“...”

Jiang Ying just felt hot...

His house had floor heating. It wasn’t noticeable in bed, but the sofa was low, and as she rubbed against the thick sofa cushions and moved around, it really got hot.

After about three to five minutes, he pulled her up.

Just as Jiang Ying was about to fulfill her promise and push him down, she felt her hands being twisted behind her back, and something else was added, getting tighter and tighter.

“...” She started to sweat slightly. “Why is there... a tie here?”

Meng Jingshu embraced her upper body, looking over her shoulder at the situation behind. It was his first time playing this game; he had no technique and was diligently studying, fearing he might hurt her.

He was also hot, but it was from eagerness. The visual effect was intense, his breathing grew heavier and heavier, yet his hands were orderly.

“I just got it from the balcony,” he said, his voice husky.

“...”

But the washed tie was quite sturdy.

“...Are you drunk or not?”

He chuckled softly: “You can try me.”

Jiang Ying was bewildered as she was turned around. He was below her, looking up.

“Your turn.”

“...”

So, earlier, when he said “and,” he didn’t mean a complement, but a union.

He deliberately intended to torment her, to make things difficult for her.

Jiang Ying couldn’t bear it and called out to him with a cry: “Meng Jingshu...”

He looked up at the sound, and was startled by what he saw.

She had never seen him like this before: damp temples, flushed cheeks, full, blood-red lips, and eyes that glowed with a mysterious, almost demonic light.

That night, they tangled until very late. Jiang Ying’s body was exhausted, but her mind was exhilarated.

Meng Jingshu retreated, becoming gentle and innocent. He didn’t want to sleep, gently stroking her hair and cheek over and over.

He asked, “Jiang Ying, why are you so far from me?”

She said, “I’m in your arms.”

He said, “It’s still very far.”

She whispered, “I don’t know either...”