An Yanqing’s composed expression could no longer hold; her brows sank, and her dark eyes grew so pale they were devoid of emotion.
She walked swiftly to Zhong Chu’s side and slammed the door shut just before the other woman could step out of the room.
The slight vibration of the door hitting the frame seemed to echo in Zhong Chu’s heart. There was no outward rage on An Yanqing’s face, yet for some reason, Zhong Chu felt a sudden surge of dread.
As An Yanqing leaned in, Zhong Chu instinctively retreated until her back pressed against the hard door panel, leaving her no way out. “An Yanqing, wh—what’s wrong with you?”
An Yanqing’s head was slightly lowered, her expression cold.
The light fell from behind and to the side of her body, casting a shadow that completely enveloped Zhong Chu. Though the distance between them was neither too close nor too far, their shadows intertwined like an embrace, intimate and inseparable.
She stared deeply at Zhong Chu, her pitch-black eyes submerged in an endless darkness. The sense of danger she had been suppressing finally revealed its sharp edge.
When she remained silent for a long time, Zhong Chu’s panic intensified. She couldn’t help but speak again, breaking the heavy, suffocating silence. “An Yanqing, what do you want to do?”
She could sense that An Yanqing was truly angry. Her words from moments ago seemed to have touched a nerve, causing her to behave abnormally.
But what exactly was she angry about? Zhong Chu hadn’t quite realized it yet.
An Yanqing’s gaze never flickered as she watched the woman before her, who appeared even more delicate and lovely under the shroud of her shadow.
She raised her arm, propping it against the door beside Zhong Chu. It was a gesture full of dominance, one that both prevented the prey from escaping and physically demarcated her territory.
The hunter looked down from above, encircling the poor prey within her domain. No matter how dense Zhong Chu might be, she couldn’t completely ignore the morbid possessiveness hidden beneath that oppressive aura.
Zhong Chu’s eyelashes fluttered timidly, and her breathing slowed. Her beautiful eyes flickered with a rebellious spark of anger as her gaze shifted hesitantly between An Yanqing’s arm and the door.
However, her voice softened tactfully, her tone rising with a gentle, warm inflection as she wheedled, “Say something. If you don’t talk, how am I supposed to know what I did wrong?”
An Yanqing made no further move. Her voice was very light and thin as she asked slowly, “So, Zhong Chu, if I can’t be cured, what will you do? Find someone else to replace me and satisfy your… physiological needs?”
“Who would it be?” She was clearly asking Zhong Chu, yet it sounded more like she was talking to herself.
Her anger was hidden rather than exposed, manifesting with great subtlety. Her posture exerted immense pressure, and while her eyes met Zhong Chu’s with a cold stare, the corners of her lips curled slightly.
She slowly uttered the name that was practically a taboo between them: “He Yu?”
Those two simple words were like a heavy hammer smashing against Zhong Chu’s heart. Right at that moment, her phone rang like a soul-summoning bell.
Startled, Zhong Chu instinctively wanted to turn the phone off. Her work number was handled by her assistant; only her closest friends had her private number.
Among those she was closest to, the one most likely to be calling at this hour was undoubtedly He Yu.
Just as she pulled out her phone, a fair hand gripped her wrist and took the device away.
Despite only catching a fleeting glimpse, Zhong Chu clearly saw the name “He Yu” on the screen.
The small black characters suddenly seemed to transform into a hideous, writhing snake, baring its terrifying fangs at her.
She had guessed correctly.
Zhong Chu couldn’t help but shiver. A strange sense of guilt and lack of justification exploded in her mind. She didn’t know what she had done wrong, yet it felt as though she truly was at fault.
She instinctively reached for her phone in An Yanqing’s hand, but An Yanqing simply raised her hand high, using her height advantage to easily thwart the attempt.
Zhong Chu clung to her arm and stood on her tiptoes, but she couldn’t reach it no matter what. Her timidity was scattered by the sudden situation, and she said irritably, “Hey! An Yanqing, what are you doing! Give it back to me!”
An Yanqing glanced sideways at the phone screen. The familiar characters seemed to sear her eyes.
The smile on her lips deepened. In front of Zhong Chu, she made a move as if to press the answer button. “We aren’t strangers. My friendship with her for all these years isn’t fake. There’s no need to say anything in private. I’m also curious about what she wants to say to you.”
Zhong Chu shouted to stop her, “Don’t!”
From yesterday until today, her emotions had been dangling like someone on a tightrope or a terrifying roller coaster, rising and falling in rapid succession.
Zhong Chu’s heart pounded wildly. She couldn’t tell if it was guilt or irritation; a tangle of complex emotions made it impossible for even her to identify her own feelings.
Hearing her resistance, An Yanqing didn’t actually press the button.
Zhong Chu was clutching her shoulders, her whole body practically hanging off her, yet An Yanqing remained motionless, as if Zhong Chu’s weight meant nothing to her.
Lacking any moral high ground, Zhong Chu nonetheless shot her a fierce glare. “What does this have to do with He Yu! I didn’t think that way, stop slandering me.”
She was panting from the exertion, her cheeks flushed crimson. An Yanqing, however, acted as if nothing had happened. Seeing this total disparity in physical capability only deepened the resentment in Zhong Chu’s heart.
The ringing reached its end and stopped automatically. The screen went dark. An Yanqing turned the phone over and looked at it calmly.
Zhong Chu had just barely breathed a sigh of relief when the piercing ringtone blared once again.
She squeezed An Yanqing’s shoulder hard, her breath catching in her throat. For a moment, she wanted to crawl into the phone and beat He Yu to death!
An Yanqing laughed again, an enigmatic smile.
She lowered her eyes to meet Zhong Chu’s gaze, her tone almost collaborative. “So persistent. Perhaps there really is some important matter? Answer it. Don’t let me delay someone else’s urgent business, don’t you agree?”
An Yanqing had always been proper in front of her; this kind of behavior, bordering on prying into privacy, was a first.
Believing she had nothing to hide, Zhong Chu glared back defiantly, her expression indignant. “Then at least give me the phone first.”
An Yanqing pressed down on her body with her arm, easily suppressing her attempt to reach for the phone.
The smile remained on her face, and her voice was exceptionally gentle—so gentle it felt like it could drip water—as she coaxed softly, “Zhong Chu, how about this.”
“I’ll hold the phone, and you two can talk on speaker. I’m not the kind of petty person who likes to snoop on others’ privacy. Once it’s connected, you can simply tell her that I’m right here listening.”
An Yanqing’s features were sharp and cold; she didn’t smile often and usually treated others with a distant politeness, with Zhong Chu being the sole exception.
In her memory, she had seen all kinds of smiles from An Yanqing. The gentle, considerate smiles with slightly raised brows; the mocking, cynical smiles with pursed lips.
Memories descended like a great net, dragging Zhong Chu back into the distant past. She dazed for a moment, briefly losing the boundary between the past and the present.
At this moment, the An Yanqing before her tilted her head slightly, her slender neck as white as snow.
She was clearly smiling—a composed smile like winter plums standing proud on a branch—the coldness of the ice and snow only highlighting her breathtaking beauty. Yet, the subtle sense of danger she radiated did not diminish in the slightest.
Their eyes met; her gaze did not waver at all. “If things are above board, there’s nothing that can’t be said in front of others. Zhong Chu, don’t you agree?”
Zhong Chu wanted to get angry, but she couldn’t find a reason. It felt like a lump in her throat, yet she couldn’t explain why she was so flustered and guilty. She could only say out of spite, “Yes, yes, yes, everything you say is right!”
During their previous struggle, An Yanqing’s neat shirt had been tugged into disarray. Beneath the unbuttoned collar, her exquisite, deep collarbones and a patch of dazzlingly white skin were revealed.
Zhong Chu realized belatedly that her lips had almost touched the other woman’s neck. Given their current compromised position, her eyes were focused right on this wonderful scenery.
Zhong Chu’s eyes felt as if they had been scorched by a flame. She jerked her head away, instinctively letting go of the other’s arm and collar. The anger in her heart suddenly vanished.
Looking flustered and unnatural, she muttered, “…If you want to answer it, then answer it.”
An Yanqing seemed not to notice that the other woman’s gaze had landed somewhere it shouldn’t have. She nonchalantly adjusted her collar. Having gained the owner’s permission, she gave her a smiling glance and openly answered the call.
As soon as the call connected, the noisy background on the other end felt somewhat familiar—much like the chaotic sounds from the day before when Zhong Chu had decided to stand her up and called An Yanqing.
He Yu seemed to have had too much to drink; her voice was slightly slurred, and her tone was different from her usual clingy, spoiled act. “Chu-chu sister, I miss you so much. Come out and play…”