That evening, just as it was time for dinner, Bai Yue suddenly received a phone call saying there was an emergency at the company. She left in a rush, not even taking her coat.
Jiang Manru stood before the dining table, staring at the steaming dishes. Braised pork ribs, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, and Bai Yue’s favorite crucian carp soup. She had spent two hours preparing them, every single dish tailored to Bai Yue’s taste.
Now they sat there, completely ignored.
“Fine then,” she said softly.
Jiang Manru took off her apron, turned, and walked back to the living room, picking up her phone from the sofa.
The message from the afternoon was still there.
[Free tonight? Same old place.]
Jiang Manru stared at the phone screen for a few seconds, tapped open the chat box, and typed:
[Okay]
Send.
Ten minutes later, she changed into a black dress with a clean cut, a slightly open neckline, and a hem that fell to her knees. She stood in front of the mirror, letting her hair down, and ran her fingers through it so it draped loosely over her shoulders.
The woman in the mirror was entirely different from the busy Mrs. Bai who had been toiling in the kitchen just moments before.
Jiang Manru smiled at the reflection, picked up her bag, and walked out.
On a narrow side street located in a visual blind spot, Bai Yue sat in the driver’s seat, staring at the only exit. Her phone was tossed onto the passenger seat, the screen still lit. That call about a company emergency was one she had instructed Lin Wei to make.
As expected, not long after she left, Jiang Manru’s car also pulled out.
Bai Yue’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly.
She started the car and followed.
The vehicle ultimately stopped outside the entrance of Lost.
From half a block away, Bai Yue watched Jiang Manru walk through that door she knew far too well.
She did not immediately get out of the car, sitting instead in the driver’s seat and staring at the entrance. In her mind, she wondered: Who was she here to see? Was that same old place Lost?
After a moment, Bai Yue pushed open the car door and stepped inside.
The lighting in Lost remained as dim as ever, the music as loud, and the crowd as dense.
Bai Yue’s gaze swept across the hall, finding no trace of Jiang Manru.
She wove through the crowd and walked over to the bar counter. Xiao K was mixing a drink, and his eyes lit up when he saw her.
“Well, President Bai, how come today?”
“The Omega who just went into the VIP booth,” Bai Yue interrupted, “which room?”
Xiao K paused for a moment.
“This…”
Bai Yue pulled out that badge from her pocket, the one Jiang Manru had returned to her, and placed it on the bar counter.
Xiao K looked at the badge, and his expression shifted.
“President Bai,” he lowered his voice, “what are you…”
Bai Yue said nothing, simply staring at him.
Xiao K hesitated for a few seconds.
“Number 3,” he said.
Receiving her answer, Bai Yue turned and walked away.
Booth Number 3 was at the very end of the hallway, the door closed.
The soundproofing of the VIP booths at Lost was exceptional; standing outside, Bai Yue could hear nothing from within.
She stared at the door, raising her hand before dropping it back down. Realizing her behavior resembled that of someone catching a cheating spouse, Bai Yue felt a wave of hesitation. This was not something she normally would do. Even if they were legally married, she had no habit of controlling others.
Bai Yue took a deep breath and let her hand fall onto the doorknob.
Instead of pushing it open, she gave up.
The next second, the booth door opened.
A waiter walked out carrying a tray.
The interior of the booth was dimly lit, illuminated only by a wall lamp. Two people sat closely together on the sofa. One wore a black dress, while the other wore light casual attire.
Subconsciously, Bai Yue raised a hand to steady the door, which had not yet fully closed, and stepped inside.
Seeing her, Jiang Manru visibly froze.
“Bai Yue?” she said. “Why are you here?”
Bai Yue said nothing, turning her gaze to the person beside her.
Gu Yan.
The gazes of the two Alphas met in the dim light.
Gu Yan smiled first.
“Miss Bai,” she said, “what a coincidence.”
Bai Yue ignored her, shifting her focus back to Jiang Manru.
“Let us go home,” she said.
Whether startled or doing it intentionally, Jiang Manru stood and did not move.
Bai Yue walked right over, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her up from the sofa. Jiang Manru stumbled slightly from the pull, falling directly into Bai Yue’s arms.
“Bai Yue,” she frowned, “what are you doing?”
Bai Yue simply pulled her toward the exit.
As they reached the door, Gu Yan’s voice echoed from behind.
“Miss Bai.” Gu Yan leaned back against the sofa, holding a wine glass. In those inscrutable eyes lay a mixture of playfulness and appraisal. “She is not yours.”
Bai Yue paused her steps and turned around.
Light spilled from behind Gu Yan, casting her entire figure into a silhouette. She looked at Bai Yue with a smile at the corner of her lips, the exact kind of smile Bai Yue was intimately familiar with, the kind shared between evenly matched rivals.
Bai Yue stood her ground, unmoving.
The air instantly froze, dropping to a chilling point.
Gu Yan set down her wine glass, stood up, and walked toward her at an unhurried pace.
She stopped right in front of Bai Yue.
“Bai Yue,” Gu Yan began, calling out her name, “shall we talk?”
Bai Yue snorted. “Talk about what?”
Gu Yan tilted her head slightly, glancing at Jiang Manru standing opposite. “Let us talk about her.”
Bai Yue’s eyebrows twitched.
“Three years,” Gu Yan emphasized deliberately, a note of triumph in her voice. “Ever since she first arrived in the UK, I was the one who guided her. Renting an apartment, setting up bank cards, choosing classes, going to the hospital when she was sick, drinking together when she was sad, it was all me.”
She paused.
“How long have you known her? A month?”
Bai Yue gritted her teeth. “What are you trying to say?”
“I am saying,” she said word for word, “on what grounds do you stand?”
Bai Yue stared at her, almost amused to the point of anger.
“On the grounds that I am her legal wife,” Bai Yue said.
Gu Yan’s face darkened for a split second.
“On the grounds that we registered our marriage, held a wedding, and sleep in the same bed,” Bai Yue continued. “On the grounds that she cooks for me every day, waits for me to come home, and calls me wife.”
She took a step forward.
“And on the grounds that I can take her away right this second.”
“Legal wife.” Gu Yan repeated the four words with a complicated tone. “Do you think that matters? She only married you because her family was breathing down her neck. Since it is all an act anyway, playing along with anyone makes no difference.”
Bai Yue’s grip tightened slightly.
“I know her better than you do,” Gu Yan went on. “You must have caught her interest somehow, which is why she is willing to spend time playing along with you. Once the novelty wears off, she will kick you to the curb without a second thought.”
She smiled.
The expression felt somewhat jarring.
“So your marriage certificate means nothing to her.”
“Are you finished?”
Losing her patience, Bai Yue shot her a cold look, turned around, and led Jiang Manru away.
Jiang Manru offered no resistance, letting herself be pulled along.
Behind them, Gu Yan’s voice sounded once more.
“Bai Yue, taking her away is useless. She will never stay for anyone.”
Bai Yue did not look back until they stepped outside the entrance of Lost.
The evening breeze blew past, carrying a hint of chill.
Bai Yue pulled Jiang Manru over to the car, opened the door, pushed her inside, and shut it. She got in from the other side, started the engine, and merged into the night.
The car interior was quiet, punctuated only by their mutual breathing.
Jiang Manru sat in the passenger seat, turning her head to gaze out the window. Streetlights flashed across her face in alternating cycles of light and dark.
She remained silent.
Bai Yue said nothing either, simply driving.
They passed through bustling streets, lively commercial districts, and towering buildings.
Then they headed out of the city.
The roads grew wider, traffic thinned, and lights dimmed.
Finally, Jiang Manru spoke up.
“Where are we going?”
Bai Yue remained silent, keeping her eyes on the road.
Jiang Manru turned to look at her. “Bai Yue?”
Still no answer.
Jiang Manru frowned. Watching the increasingly desolate scenery outside the window, a sense of unease crept into her heart.
“Bai Yue,” she softened her tone, “are you angry?”
The hand gripping Bai Yue’s steering wheel tightened marginally, but she still didn’t speak.
Looking at Bai Yue’s tense jawline and straight-pressed lips, Jiang Manru sighed. She reached out and gently rested her hand on Bai Yue’s arm.
The gesture was light and tender, the very same kind she had used on countless nights to soothe countless people.
“Do not be mad,” she said softly. “There is nothing between her and me. We just met up to chat. If you dislike it, I won’t see her again.”
Bai Yue’s eyelashes fluttered.
Those lines sounded rather familiar.
Jiang Manru continued trying to coax her: “Stop being angry, okay?”
At last, Bai Yue turned her head and glanced at her.
It was just a glance before she quickly withdrew her gaze and went back to driving.
Yet Jiang Manru caught it: that look held no softening; it was colder than before.
A realization dawned on her. She had used this kind of soothing tactic too many times on too many different people, had Bai Yue seen right through it?
Jiang Manru’s hand froze in place, pulling back.
Silence descended upon the cabin once more, broken only by the low rumble of the engine and the rushing wind outside.
The car came to a stop in a vacant patch of land.
There was nothing around for miles, no villages, no shops. Only the distant silhouettes of mountains and the sparse starlight overhead.
Bai Yue cut the engine.
The cabin plunged into total darkness. Only the faint fluorescent glow of the dashboard outlined their silhouettes.
Jiang Manru’s unease reached its peak.
“Bai Yue,” she began, her voice a bit tight, “what on earth…”
Before she could finish, Bai Yue suddenly leaned across, hooked one hand around the back of Jiang Manru’s neck, pulled her close, and kissed her.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was charged with fierce intensity and anger.
Breathless from the assault, Jiang Manru instinctively tried to push her away, but Bai Yue’s grip was too firm.
She couldn’t break free.
The seat reclined.
Jiang Manru’s back met the flattened seat, and above her loomed Bai Yue’s silhouette. In the darkness, her face was indistinguishable, save for her eyes, which burned like fire.
“Bai Yue!” Jiang Manru called out to her, “What are you doing!”
Without a word, Bai Yue pressed down further, her hands reaching for Jiang Manru’s clothes.
Panicked, Jiang Manru raised her hands to push against Bai Yue’s shoulders. “Bai Yue! Let me go!”
Unhappy with her resistance, Bai Yue grabbed a seatbelt, looped it twice around Jiang Manru’s wrists, and secured them.
Jiang Manru struggled briefly, failing to pull free.
“Bai Yue,” she said, her voice turning unexpectedly calm like someone throwing caution to the wind, “don’t be like this.”
Lowering her gaze to look at her, Bai Yue wore a mix of anger, hurt, and something Jiang Manru couldn’t quite decipher.
“Be like what?” Bai Yue asked, her voice low and carrying an improper chuckle.
Jiang Manru opened her mouth, finding herself utterly at a loss for words.
Bai Yue lowered her head, pressing her lips against the side of Jiang Manru’s neck.
No kiss. No lingering touch.
Only pain.
Jiang Manru’s body gave a sudden jolt.
Bai Yue was biting her. Not the flirtatious kind of bite, but one fraught with punishment.
With her hands bound, Jiang Manru couldn’t move.
She had no choice but to endure.
The pain spread outward from her neck.
Biting down on her own lip, she forced herself to keep quiet.
Yet Bai Yue didn’t stop.
Once, twice.
Every spot left a mark, every spot carried pain.
In the dark, there were only her suppressed gasps and the muffled moans occasionally slipping past her lips.
Finally, Bai Yue pulled back, propping herself up to gaze down at her. Jiang Manru lay there, hair disheveled, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.
After a long look, Bai Yue reached out to gently wipe away the tear at the corner of her eye. The gesture completely contrasted with her previous harshness, as light as a feather.
“Those words,” Bai Yue asked, “how many people have you said them to?”
Jiang Manru drew a sharp breath.
She really had seen right through it.
“I just realized something,” Bai Yue said. “In your eyes, I am no different from those people.”
Jiang Manru opened her mouth, intending to speak.
Yet Bai Yue afforded her no chance.
Leaning in close until her lips nearly brushed Jiang Manru’s ear, she spoke in a low voice that sounded like a devil’s whisper: “You made me hurt, so I will make you hurt too.”
Her hand rested against Jiang Manru’s waist.
“Let’s see who breaks first.”
Jiang Manru closed her eyes.
Only a single thought echoed in her mind, she was doomed.