Lu Ruiqian hurried over and saw He Churou’s dress stained with red wine. “Mom, are you okay?”
He Churou smiled and shook her head. “I’m fine. It’s just this dress—it took a year to custom-order from abroad, and today was the first time I wore it. What a shame…”
Lu Ruiqian glanced at Xia Wanzhi.
Xia Wanzhi stood to the side, soft and silent, saying nothing.
He Churou said, “I’ll go upstairs to change into another dress.” With that, she lifted her skirt and headed upstairs.
Lu Ruiqian sighed and turned to Xia Wanzhi. “Zhi Zhi, you… at least owe my mother an apology.”
Xia Wanzhi was silent for a moment. “I didn’t spill it.”
Lu Ruiqian replied, “I saw it, Zhi Zhi. The red wine was in your hand, and it spilled onto my mother.”
“It’s fine if it was an accident, but… you shouldn’t lie… Ah… I have things to attend to. I’ll go handle them now.”
Xia Wanzhi bit her red lips, watching Lu Ruiqian’s retreating figure, the corners of her eyes tinged with red.
Lu Zhuojin watched from a distance as Xia Wanzhi’s expression turned aggrieved and sorrowful. He smiled faintly. It was good that she was being bullied.
He had always known this sister-in-law wasn’t an easy one to deal with. Now, the soft, adorable little white rabbit was about to cry. It looked like she really needed… a comforting touch…
Seeing Xia Wanzhi’s reddened eyes, he couldn’t help but think of the night before last—her whimpering, tearful pleas for mercy, crying even as she… It made him think…
Like a little kitten, soft and tender, with just a whimper, she could claw her way into a person’s heart, unsettling them from the inside out, leaving them itching with desire.
Xia Wanzhi lowered her head, then raised it again, sighing softly as she made her way through the crowd toward the quiet restroom area, wanting to catch her breath.
The atmosphere here was suffocating her.
Lu Zhuojin raised an eyebrow and smiled, following Xia Wanzhi. The sweet, soft little treasure needed comfort, and he needed another kind of comfort. Perfect timing.
Xia Wanzhi lifted her apricot-pink gown, the silk hem brushing against the dark night, diamonds sparkling faintly as she walked down the dimly lit corridor. The noisy, glamorous crowd gradually faded into the distance, and she didn’t notice a tall figure following behind.
Lu Zhuojin didn’t follow closely, instead strolling leisurely from a distance. He took out a metal roller lighter, flicked it open with a “snap,” and lit a cigarette. The smoke rose in gentle wisps, veiling his handsome face like a thin gauze, making it indistinct through the faint light.
He took a deep drag, the tip of the cigarette glowing red with the force, briefly illuminating his face before fading back into darkness, carrying an aura of danger and allure.
Xia Wanzhi reached the restroom, pushed the door open, and stepped inside. No one was there. Two large mirrors reflected the room, and one wall was adorned with elegant brown-patterned tiles, winding upward.
She looked at her clear, lovely face in the mirror and let out a deep breath.
Too soft—soft enough to make people think she was easy to bully.
Lu Ruiqian had always been well-mannered, never speaking harshly. Today’s words were the harshest he had ever spoken to her.
Xia Wanzhi had always believed that Lu Ruiqian would stand firmly by her side forever. But seeing is believing—he would trust what he saw with his own eyes. Yet, was what he saw really the truth?
She felt deeply wronged but had nowhere to vent her feelings.
What could she say? If a man wasn’t willing to believe her, a hundred words from her would be less effective than his mother softly saying, “Don’t blame her.”
Or less effective than him saying, “My mother has had a hard time” or “Don’t be willful.”
Unconsciously, her eyes reddened, tears welling up. She fought to hold them back. She couldn’t cry—her makeup would run.
Outside the door, the sound of leather shoes echoed—”tap, tap, tap…” steady, unhurried, growing closer.
A man?
Xia Wanzhi’s breath caught.
The sound of leather shoes paused for two seconds outside the restroom.
Xia Wanzhi froze—a man? About to enter the women’s restroom?
The next moment, the door creaked open.
Xia Wanzhi’s heart skipped a beat as she stared at the slowly opening door.
Lu Zhuojin stood against the light, his back shrouded in darkness. The cigarette in his hand sent a slow, straight line of smoke upward, casting a faint glow on his face. The haze blurred his features, neither too near nor too far, neither too bright nor too dark.
On his handsome, refined face, a dangerous, “Got you” smile spread.
The silver-gray suit accentuated his tall, elegant figure, exuding an aristocratic aura.
It was like bringing a cello performance into a shabby cottage.
Or turning a luxurious restroom into a piano concert hall.
Xia Wanzhi looked up, her eyes misty with faint tears, the corners slightly red, soft as water. Her sweet breath seemed to entwine with his.
Her sobs were sweet and damp.
Lu Zhuojin’s gaze turned dangerous and oppressive, lingering on Xia Wanzhi’s face and body without a word.
Xia Wanzhi’s almond-shaped eyes widened, surprise and fear flashing in them. “Ah… this, this is the women’s restroom…”
As the white smoke dissipated, Lu Zhuojin’s handsome face became clear like an ink painting, his silhouette outlined with sharp, three-dimensional lines. He looked at her like a gentleman observing the food on his plate before a meal—unhurried, casual, yet overwhelmingly oppressive.
Lu Zhuojin took a drag from his cigarette, smiled elegantly, and looked up politely. “I know.”
Xia Wanzhi stepped back, panicked. “You… get out.”
Lu Zhuojin laughed, the light softening his features and diminishing his aggressiveness. His handsome face was sharp and profound, the smoke slowly dispersing to reveal eyes filled with meaning.
He took a deep drag from his cigarette, stepped forward, and crushed it forcefully on the sink counter. The ember sizzled as it met the water.
Then, he strode toward Xia Wanzhi, startling her into retreating until her back pressed against the cold mirror.
Lu Zhuojin followed two steps forward, watching the panicked Xia Wanzhi before leaning close to her ear, his voice magnetic and suggestive. “Now that I’m in, how do I get out?”
His burning chest pressed against Xia Wanzhi through their clothes.
Hearing his double entendre, Xia Wanzhi’s face flushed crimson.
Lu Zhuojin chuckled softly. “You look so pretty when you cry.”
Ignoring her panic, his hand moved from her fair, delicate ear to the back of her head, pushing her forward abruptly.
Xia Wanzhi’s gasp was swallowed by his lips, devoured completely.
Nibbling.
Swallowing.
Consuming.
In the mirrors on both sides, countless reflections formed—a delicate, rosy-cheeked girl pinned against the mirror by a wild-suited man, kissed fiercely with a raw, untamed hunger.
Only when both were breathless did Lu Zhuojin release her, leaving them both panting heavily.
Xia Wanzhi pushed against him while gasping for air. “You… let go.”
Her sweet scent drifted into Lu Zhuojin’s nostrils.
Lu Zhuojin smiled, his hand slowly wandering to the small of her back. His burning palm pulled her closer as he whispered, “What, no respect for your elder?”
Xia Wanzhi was on the verge of tears. “Let… let me go.”
A thought flashed through her mind: “You… you… are you sick or something…”
Lu Zhuojin’s hand rested on her waist as he replied slowly, with a hint of laughter. “Biologically male, psychologically female. A cross-dresser, so I wear men’s clothes. A lesbian, so I like women. Is that sick?”
Xia Wanzhi saw his teasing and stammered, “What I mean is, that thing, the illness… do you have it?”
Lu Zhuojin was taken aback for a moment, then chuckled softly. He wrapped his arm around Xia Wanzhi, tapped a few times on his phone, and pulled up a page. “Here, look for yourself… flip through it…”
Xia Wanzhi saw it was his medical report and began scrolling with her finger.
Taking advantage of her occupied hand, Lu Zhuojin let his own roam freely, venturing where it shouldn’t be.
His hand was scorching hot.