Jiang Wang stood up, brushed past the crowd, and walked out with an air of arrogance.
Si Yuan nodded at her brother and followed behind him.
Song Yan remained standing, unmoving.
As Si Yuan passed in front of him, a faint scent of gardenia lingered around her—likely picked up from the balcony earlier.
In Song Yan’s twenty-four years of life, this was the first time Si Yuan had overlooked him and followed someone else.
Over the years, Song Yan had imagined countless times that Si Yuan would eventually marry and remain his sister for life. He told himself that was the natural order of things.
But when she no longer regarded him as her sole direction and walked away with someone else, the neatly arranged cards in Song Yan’s heart felt violently scattered.
Over the past five years, he had sent people to check on her in London time and again.
No one ever mentioned she had a boyfriend.
So why, all of a sudden…
Lin Shuangyu took Song Yan’s hand and remarked sarcastically, “Your sister is quite something, managing to hitch a ride with Young Master Jiang.”
Song Yan’s gaze slanted toward her face as he retorted, “If you hadn’t insisted on calling her over earlier, she wouldn’t have taken the ride.”
Lin Shuangyu froze.
Was Song Yan blaming her for this?
“A-Yan, what’s wrong with you?”
Song Yan withdrew his gaze and walked out. “Xiao Yuan doesn’t like such occasions. Let’s not invite her in the future.”
Lin Shuangyu couldn’t grasp why Song Yan was upset.
Didn’t he despise Si Yuan too?
That shameless, ungrateful wretch—raised by the Song family, yet she had the audacity to develop feelings for Song Yan.
Back in high school, Song Yan had made his stance perfectly clear.
At the time, he had coldly uttered just two words.
“Ridiculous.”
Yes, how could Song Yan possibly be angry with her over someone as laughable as Si Yuan?
Lin Shuangyu told herself it was impossible.
Jiang Wang got into the car and instructed the driver to set off.
The interior was dimly lit. Si Yuan leaned against the window on the other side, watching the fleeting lights outside.
Blue-tinged shadows, like long, transparent silk, wrapped and drifted across her face.
Unconsciously, Si Yuan dug her fingernails deep into her wrist.
Pain had become her instinctive means of clinging to consciousness.
Too much had happened tonight.
The way Song Yan had looked at her, the words Lin Shuangyu had spoken, Song’s Mother’s probing and distrust… every glance and every word plunged her back into layers of overwhelming agony.
Her bipolar disorder had flared up again.
On countless nights like this, she had never been able to save herself. All she could do was hurt herself while waiting for the destructive emotions to recede.
But suddenly, a warm hand clasped her wrist and turned it over.
In the next moment, his fingers interlaced tightly with hers.
Si Yuan looked at Jiang Wang.
His gaze was fixed on the overlapping red marks, old and new, on her wrist.
Only then did Si Yuan realize she had forgotten to pull her sleeve down.
Jiang Wang frowned, his usually wild eyes tinged with red in the gloom. “Doesn’t it hurt?”
The delayed effects of alcohol surged within her, shattering all her restraint.
Instead of answering, Si Yuan leaned forward slightly with the dizziness, nearly pressing against his chest.
Tilting her face up, her eyes holding a fragile confusion, she whispered, “Do you feel sorry for me?”
“Yes.”
Si Yuan smiled drunkenly, her eyes like fragile sugar frost glazed with a hint of moisture.
“Jiang Wang, you were the first person who ever felt sorry for me. Just like back then.”
She sat back, putting distance between them again.
“Actually, I owe you a thank you.”
Jiang Wang looked at her intently: “Si Yuan, next time you’re upset, don’t hurt yourself again.”
Si Yuan’s smile faltered, the confusion in her eyes deepening. “Then what should I do?”
She had tried enduring it, tried bearing it, but when emotions overwhelmed her, only physical pain could bring her slight clarity.
Beyond that, she couldn’t find any other outlet.
Jiang Wang didn’t speak further, suddenly reaching out to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her close.
He leaned down slightly, his breath falling near her ear as one hand casually raised the partition.
And his heartbeat—pounding fast, so fast.
“Then kiss me. I’ll teach you how to forget.”
Si Yuan froze abruptly, the drunkenness in her eyes fading considerably.
She instinctively averted her gaze, peering through the rear window where she could vaguely make out the familiar car following behind, and inside it, the brother wearing a white suit.
Among so many people, some tested her, some mocked her, some ignored her.
But indeed, only Jiang Wang would never bully her.
With Jiang Wang, at least in their physical relationship, they had always been equals.
Jiang Wang followed her gaze with a brief glance backward before turning back, his thumb gently stroking her cheek, his tone carrying a hint of restraint.
“If you keep looking at him, I’ll turn around right now and run over that wretched couple…”
Before he could finish, Si Yuan abruptly tilted her head up and pressed her lips to his.
This domineering, yearning side of Jiang Wang, unreasonable because of her, was actually somewhat sexy.
But Jiang Wang was momentarily stunned.
Sure enough, just mentioning him makes you willing to do anything.
Si Yuan thought one kiss was enough and prepared to pull back.
But the arm around her waist tightened abruptly, and his other hand released hers to cup the back of her head.
Deepening, lingering.
It was as if he had been waiting a long time, starving.
As if he wanted to devour her whole.
Si Yuan felt suffocated, almost breathless.
Yet this suffocation and control somehow made her feel relieved in this moment.
The air in the car seemed to ignite, leaving only their entangled breaths and the neon lights outside the window blurring into streaks as they sped past.
Her thoughts, already muddled from her bipolar episode, completely lost their footing under this forceful, scorching dominance.
No need to dwell on Song Yan’s complicated gaze, no need to remember Lin Shuangyu’s mockery, no need to ponder the veiled tests hidden within Song’s Mother’s gentleness.
Jiang Wang’s demands were like an impenetrable barrier, shutting out everything that tormented her.
He gave her no chance to overthink; whenever her mind wandered, he would bite her neck.
His teeth grazing her skin carried a warning, almost punitive.
“Focus.”
It wasn’t until they were nearly there that Jiang Wang reluctantly let go.
But only his lips parted; their bodies remained pressed tightly together.
Si Yuan glanced downward.
She could feel him…
Same as before… reacting like this even now.
“Let me go.”
“Did it feel good?”
Si Yuan gritted her teeth into a smile: “Just average.”
Jiang Wang couldn’t be bothered to expose her lie, suddenly pressing her head against his forehead as he said deeply, “Don’t let me see any more wounds on your arms from now on.”
When he got serious, his tone was truly intimidating.
Si Yuan nodded obediently.
She appeared obedient, even somewhat timid and incompetent, but deep down, she was wild.
During the six months she followed Jiang Wang, he could protect her perfectly well without even showing his face.
Si Yuan wanted to be able to protect herself, so she learned to emulate the sharp edges she saw in Jiang Wang.
She enjoyed smoking Jiang Wang’s cigarettes, drinking his liquor, and sitting in his lap while saying things like how she wished Lin Shuangyu would die.
Jiang Wang would ask her, “Are you sure?”
She knew he would actually do it, and then she would suddenly come to her senses, reverting to the rule-abiding, timid Si Yuan.
In this world, only Jiang Wang had ever seen her true self.
And because her own flaws had been nurtured by him—because he was even crazier than she was—he never feared or despised her.
Surprisingly, Si Yuan found that sense of security and belonging again with Jiang Wang.
The car came to a stop, and pulling up beside them was Song Yan’s car.
Song Yan got out, adjusted his collar, and walked straight toward them.
Si Yuan’s eyes widened slightly as she pushed against Jiang Wang, flustered.
“My brother’s here! Let go of me, quick!”
“The windows are tinted.”
“What if he opens the door?”
“Why are you so scared? For all you know, they might’ve been even wilder than us the whole way here.”
Si Yuan’s face turned cold. “My brother isn’t like that.”
Jiang Wang glanced sideways and chuckled softly.
His eyes held clear mockery.
“Do you like your brother that much?”
Si Yuan told the truth: “He just doesn’t like me. That doesn’t mean he isn’t a good brother.”
“You’re always so timid with everyone except me.”
Si Yuan couldn’t be bothered to argue with him.
If they didn’t separate now, it would be too late.
Ignoring even Lin Shuangyu, Song Yan came straight over to pick up Si Yuan.
He tapped on the window, signaling the driver to open the door.
The driver unlocked it, and Song Yan pulled the door open in one swift motion.