The Disliked Shou and the Charming Gong : Chapter 15: Can You Even Get It Up With Me?

The crystal chandelier in the upscale restaurant glowed softly beneath the piano music. The coffee before Wen Junhe had gone cold.

He Ning pulled out his chair heavily, the solid wood legs scraping against the marble floor with a grating sound.

He wore a black sweater today, making his complexion look pale and cold. The ring on his right ring finger was especially obvious under the lights.

Wen Junhe’s gaze lingered there for a second, his Adam’s apple moving. “Was there traffic on the way?”

He Ning was deliberately late. It used to always be him waiting for Wen Junhe. Now he actually had the chance to make Wen Junhe wait for him.

The piano piece happened to switch to the next movement, its cheerful melody completely at odds with the atmosphere right now.

He Ning didn’t respond. He directly tossed the file folder in his hand onto the table with a loud slap.

“Wen Junhe, cut the useless pleasantries.” He Ning gave off a sharp feeling. “You sent me those documents. What exactly do you mean by it?”

He Ning stared at Wen Junhe’s exhausted face. It looked like he hadn’t rested well in a long time. There were faint dark circles under his eyes. This was a completely different person from the Wen Junhe in his memory who was always impeccably put together.

“Can we eat first?” Wen Junhe’s voice was somewhat hoarse, carrying a pleading tone. “I haven’t eaten all day.”

The main courses arrived one by one. They were all things He Ning liked to eat. Pan-seared cod with lemon juice. Roasted asparagus with the tough ends removed. Even the dessert was his favorite molten lava cake. None of the ingredients he was allergic to appeared at all.

The red wine swirled in the decanter. The waitress arranged the dishes in the center of the table.

There were even candles. He Ning found the scene strangely familiar, like the anniversaries they used to spend together. Only now the roles were reversed. Wen Junhe sat across from him, gazing at him with burning eyes, while the cold and indifferent one had become him.

He Ning remembered how he used to book restaurants in advance for anniversaries, personally selecting the menu. Wen Junhe would always rush over at the last minute.

Wen Junhe reached out wanting to pour him wine. He Ning directly turned his wine glass upside down on the tablecloth. He had no appetite whatsoever.

“I can’t stay with you for long, in case I end up in some strange news article. You’d better explain your purpose. What exactly do you mean by giving me those things?”

Freed from certain constraints, He Ning had regained that prickly side of himself.

He had grown up willfully, lived freely, never shortchanging himself, nor forgiving others.

When searching online for news about that wedding, one could vaguely find the media’s veiled, dramatic gossip about that day.

Zhou Moufu had warned He Ning that since he was married now, he needed to know his place going forward.

He Ning of course understood. He took Zhou Ji’s arm, obedient and polite, saying yes, father.

Zhou Chong leaned against the side, staring at He Ning who was talking to Zhou Ji, his gaze dark enough to drip water.

He’d been locked up for a full day and night. By the time Zhou Chong was finally released, the wedding was over.

He Ning glanced up and caught Zhou Chong’s gaze, meeting his eyes. The corner of his mouth hooked up, deliberately leaning against Zhou Ji, then showing off the ring on his finger, infuriating him to death.

Now that Zhou Ji was married, Zhou Moufu said they could move into that downtown apartment anytime.

Zhou Ji just watched Wen Junhe eat.

Wen Junhe really did seem hungry, stuffing food into his mouth bit by bit.

By the time he finally finished, Wen Junhe lowered his eyes and slowly spoke: “I looked into it. That anesthesia accident you had back then wasn’t an accident. Han Qing did it. I thought you had the right to know.”

He Ning had of course seen those documents. The medical records in the photos, page after page. He went from disbelief to anger, a layer of cold sweat seeping from his back. Otherwise he wouldn’t have come here.

Han Qing.

That name was like a thorn stuck in his memory, a guy who was always haunting him like a ghost.

He Ning even remembered every time Han Qing mocked him, those sneering eyes behind his glasses. But he’d never imagined that those petty, trivial acts of malice would one day turn into murderous intent.

But what surprised He Ning even more was that Wen Junhe would actually hand these over to him.

The corner of He Ning’s mouth pulled into a cold smile: “How could you bear to give me these? Weren’t you and Han Qing so close? You clearly knew that seeing these, I’d definitely destroy him.”

Wen Junhe’s fingers unconsciously clenched and unclenched on the tabletop. “Ningning, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left five years ago. I shouldn’t have let you face everything alone.”

He Ning’s expression froze for an instant, then he suddenly burst out laughing. He laughed until his shoulders shook, his fingers pressing against the table edge, his knuckles turning white. That laughter was especially grating in the quiet restaurant. Even the guests at the next table couldn’t help turning to look.

“You’d actually apologize to me?” He Ning wiped the corner of his eye. “Wen Junhe, you’d actually apologize to me?”

Wen Junhe’s lips moved. That “Ningning” was called out so lightly and softly. This was a nickname Wen Junhe had been stingy with even during their most intimate moments. Now here he was, after He Ning’s wedding to someone else was already done, and this person finally remembered to be sentimental.

He Ning wiped his expression, speaking coldly: “Don’t call me that.”

He Ning suddenly found it pointless. He used to rack his brains trying to guess Wen Junhe’s thoughts, and now he couldn’t be bothered to guess even more. “Forget the apology. Back then I was the one who clung to you. Now that you’ve handed me this stuff, these past years of mine weren’t completely a joke.”

He Ning was no longer eighteen. He’d long understood that not everything you give can be easily obtained. Love and not love are destined to be biased. No matter how unwilling you are, it won’t change anything.

He waited and waited, and finally, after his heart had completely gone cold, he got to see Wen Junhe standing on his side for once.

Truly laughable.

“I’m not going to soften my heart. Go back and tell Han Qing to hire a good lawyer.”

When He Ning was half risen, Wen Junhe suddenly leaned forward and grabbed his right hand, as if He Ning would disappear before his eyes if he was a moment too slow.

He Ning looked down at Wen Junhe. He watched Wen Junhe’s gaze fall on his hand. He raised it up, touching that ring, and asked Wen Junhe: “Does my ring look good?”

That ring had a simple design, but one look and you could tell it was very expensive.

Wen Junhe said bitterly that it looked good, thinking of that recent wedding that had invited guests from all directions. He Ning had dressed up specially for it. He suited that kind of occasion so well, noble like a prince. Their wedding back then hadn’t given He Ning a good experience.

Afterward He Ning had even carefully observed his expression and sulked.

Wen Junhe hardly dared to recall what he had done to He Ning.

“Han Qing and I aren’t friends anymore.”

He Ning’s brows furrowed slightly: “What, because of me? Then should I say thank you to you? Because of me, you gave up Han Qing, is that it?”

“No, there was never anything between him and me. He deceived me. You matter so much more. You always have.”

Wen Junhe seemed very unpracticed at saying this kind of thing. He thought about it, then looked at He Ning, expecting some reaction.

He Ning opened his mouth, some sadness in his eyes but more a sense of absurdity: “…If you’d said this to me in the past, I would have been happy. But now it’s a bit too late. Do you think it’s appropriate to say this to me now?”

Wen Junhe said in pain: “…I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I really didn’t know.”

Who should he hate? Clearly the one most deserving of hate was himself.

He was the one who had personally pushed his lover farther and farther away.

No matter how unwilling he was to be dumped, if only he’d asked He Ning one more question, if he hadn’t stood on his high horse with that attitude, things wouldn’t have dragged on to this point.

Wen Junhe always kept his back straight. He thought He Ning would always hug him from behind like before, drawing close just like in the past.

But now He Ning no longer craved for his straight back to bend down even the slightest distance for him.

His prejudice against He Ning had been deeply rooted from the very start. Even if his mouth resisted, his heart had already moved one step ahead. Only Wen Junhe had always been too ashamed to admit it.

“I saw that cardboard box you threw away. I’m sorry… I know it’s late. I didn’t know you were in so much pain back then. I didn’t know you were sick. I’m sorry…”

He Ning’s expression showed some surprise. He had once thought that on this day he would break down crying in Wen Junhe’s arms, telling him he’d really held on alone for so long.

But instead he was very calm. He made a soft “mm” sound, then told Wen Junhe: “No need to pity me. We were already broken up by then, so it had nothing to do with you. Don’t take it upon yourself.”

There were many times when He Ning couldn’t hold on anymore, when he’d had the thought of going to find Wen Junhe.

Thinking back now, thank goodness he didn’t go.

“I have to thank myself. If I hadn’t broken up with you, I wouldn’t have met A Ji. Maybe we should have separated long ago. It would have been better for both of us.”

Wen Junhe felt like he had a fish bone stuck in his throat, yet he couldn’t say anything.

He Ning looked at Wen Junhe’s loss of composure and suddenly said: “Did you put away my things?”

“…Yes.”

“Give them back to me.”

He Ning went to Wen Junhe’s home to retrieve his belongings.

He didn’t want to leave those sentimental things at Wen Junhe’s place. Especially now with Wen Junhe’s expression of deep regret, he found it far too ironic.

They were silent the whole way. Wen Junhe had always been the one who didn’t talk much. It used to be He Ning’s one-man show. He would chat about a lot of things, even though most were topics Wen Junhe wasn’t interested in.

Until He Ning too became completely unperturbed, and Wen Junhe finally knew what true suffocation felt like.

Wen Junhe opened the door. He Ning saw him take out slippers and place them before him.

Wen Junhe asked if he wanted water.

He Ning said he just wanted to get his things and leave early. Wen Junhe said wait a moment, and went to the study to get things. He Ning stood there and saw the open bedroom door. He remembered how on the wedding day Wen Junhe had said he’d cleaned up the room.

He Ning couldn’t resist going in and saw the half-emptied closet.

By the time Wen Junhe came out carrying the box, He Ning took it and set it on the floor to check the contents. Finally he looked up: “One thing is still missing.”

He Ning took that ring from Wen Junhe’s hand. Wen Junhe was somewhat reluctant when he took it out.

This ring was personally selected by He Ning, to commemorate his first unforgettable love, carrying the most sincere fluttering of his teenage heart.

The style he picked at age twenty, with the initials of his and Wen Junhe’s names engraved on the inner band. Back then the shop assistant asked if it was a gift. He nodded with red ears, saying he wanted to give it to someone very important. Thinking back now, it was truly naively laughable. He thought that as long as he was sincere enough, he could exchange it for sincerity. He thought this ring could lock Wen Junhe down for a lifetime.

Wen Junhe watched the nostalgic expression that flashed across He Ning’s lowered face, and his chest suddenly felt like it had been scorched. He abruptly reached out and yanked the person into his arms, his arms pressing hard against He Ning’s back.

The faint fragrance on He Ning’s body mixed with the shampoo scent from between his strands, rushing into his nostrils. Wen Junhe buried his face in the hollow of his neck and rubbed against it haphazardly, his breathing rapid and heavy.

“Ningning… don’t leave me, okay.”

Wen Junhe’s lips brushed past He Ning’s earlobe, his voice hoarse beyond recognition. He felt the person in his arms instantly tense up, yet stubbornly refused to let go, hugging even tighter instead.

Kisses fell messily on He Ning’s forehead, the corner of his eye, finally pressing against trembling lips, tasting a bit of a salty taste, not knowing whose tears they were.

“Don’t go. I was really wrong. I treated you badly in the past. I’ll treat you well from now on. I can’t live without you. Let’s get married, okay? We’ll live together from now on, never apart.” Wen Junhe’s voice shook badly, holding He Ning tight, like grasping at his last lifeline.

Wen Junhe had never been this disheveled before, apologizing incoherently, making promises, even digging up all those sappy lines He Ning had said when chasing him back then and repeating them.

He Ning’s silence made him panic. Wen Junhe could only call out that nickname he’d once disdained to use, over and over, as if this could keep the person from leaving.

He Ning struggled twice at first, his shoulders hurting from being held so tight. He frowned and looked up, meeting Wen Junhe’s reddened eye rims, and the strength of his struggle suddenly drained away.

Wen Junhe felt the person in his arms go limp, his heart suddenly beating even faster, his fingers trembling as he cupped He Ning’s face.

When the soft warmth touched his lips, Wen Junhe’s breath caught for an instant.

He Ning didn’t dodge, nor did he respond. He simply let him press against him.

Wen Junhe kissed him urgently, his teeth accidentally knocking against He Ning’s lower lip, tasting a bit of blood but not stopping. His hands still shook badly, moving from the back of He Ning’s neck to his spine, as if confirming this person was real.

Wen Junhe panted against the corner of his lips, the tip of his nose brushing against a patch of wet coolness. It turned out to be his own tears. He Ning never pushed him away, but neither did he actively wrap his arms around his neck like before.

This silent indulgence was more panic-inducing than rejection. Wen Junhe tightened his arms again, pressing the person deeper into his embrace.

Even when they did it before, they didn’t often kiss.

He Ning used to turn his head wanting to beg for a kiss and couldn’t get one.

As it turned out, kisses really did expose emotions. He Ning could clearly feel the panic in Wen Junhe’s kiss, the obvious pleading and begging for forgiveness.

He Ning kept his eyes lowered and didn’t move, letting Wen Junhe nearly humbly seek that bit of warmth between his lips and teeth.

He Ning was kissed until he couldn’t stand steady, and could only reach out to hold Wen Junhe’s waist. By the time Wen Junhe finally stopped, he stood on tiptoe and brought his lips close to Wen Junhe’s ear, exhaling. He opened his mouth and said word by word: “Wen Junhe, can you even get it up with me?”

Then he said a German drug name.

It was exactly the medicine Han Qing had given Wen Junhe.

When He Ning turned his head, Wen Junhe met his cold and indifferent gaze. The fire and hope that had just been burning in his heart were instantly extinguished like a basin of ice-cold water poured over them. He stood frozen in place, struck as if by lightning.

He Ning slowly and methodically straightened his rumpled collar, his fingertips smoothing out every wrinkle in his shirt.

When he bent down to pick up the cardboard box, Wen Junhe could even hear the sound of his own heart cracking.

“These are all trash. Don’t pick them up again. And also,” He Ning paused at the door, “your technique is really terrible.”

By the time Wen Junhe could finally move his body and walk to the window, he saw He Ning toss that box into the trash can, then walk forward without looking back. After walking a distance, he suddenly seemed to remember something, raising his hand and waving it behind him, his retreating figure looking carefree, as if bidding farewell to something completely unimportant.