The Disliked Shou and the Charming Gong : Chapter 29: I Will Fuck You on the Bed You Shared with Zhou Ji

No matter how conflicted Zhou Ji felt inside, He Ning looked at him with such anticipation and pleading that he eventually had no choice but to give in. “I’ll make sure they arrange everything properly. You can come back anytime you want.”

He Ning wasn’t going soft on Zhou Chong. He was looking at the dark circles under Zhou Ji’s eyes and feeling sorry for him.

On the third day after Wen Junhe’s number was blocked, he showed up waiting directly at the Zhou family residence.

It was raining that day. He Ning got out of the car and saw Wen Junhe leaning against his vehicle, holding an umbrella.

“Are you crazy?” He Ning stepped out. “Do you know where this is?”

Wen Junhe’s eyes were bloodshot, and a patch of bluish stubble had sprouted along his jaw.

“Of course I know!”

“A little third wheel,” Wen Junhe suddenly laughed, the corner of his mouth pulling into an ugly curve. “A shameful male third wheel, is that it?”

His hand gripped He Ning’s arm, then loosened when he caught the pained expression on the other man’s face.

“But you won’t see me!” Wen Junhe’s voice suddenly shot up, then forced itself back down. “He Ning, don’t push me into becoming a madman, okay?”

The corners of his eyes were red, as if tears might fall at any moment.

He Ning shoved Wen Junhe away hard, a dull ache spreading through his chest.

“Haven’t I made myself clear enough? It’s over. I want to live a normal life.”

Rain dripped from the ends of his hair.

Wen Junhe’s suit was soaked from the waist down, clinging to his body.

“A normal life?” He pulled out a bitter smile. “These past few days I’ve been tossing and turning, thinking. I’ve been thinking that I shouldn’t have left years ago.”

He Ning knew he shouldn’t soften. But when Wen Junhe threw down the umbrella and walked toward him, he found his feet wouldn’t move.

“Ningning, let’s be good from now on, okay?”

Rain slid down Wen Junhe’s eyelashes, like tears.

“From now on I’ll listen carefully to every word you say. You used to say you didn’t want to work, that you just wanted to be a lazy little pig by my side. Have you forgotten all that?”

“I’ve written down everything from your diary. All the time I missed, I’ve recorded it for you.”

He Ning listened quietly. Those naive daydreams from when he was eighteen now sounded like a distant dream. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t moved.

“Wen Junhe,” He Ning’s voice was a little hoarse, “let me think about it, okay?”

Wen Junhe cupped his face. Rain merged where their skin touched.

“How long?” His thumb gently brushed across the corner of He Ning’s eye.

He Ning: “A week, okay?”

A week later at the airport, He Ning stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows watching the planes on the tarmac. His phone screen lit up and went dark. When he finally pressed send, his fingertip lingered on the three characters “Wen Junhe” for a few seconds.

After the text went out, He Ning switched his phone to airplane mode. He remembered last night while packing, pulling out that photo from deep inside a drawer, Wen Junhe with his arm around his shoulders, cherry blossom trees from their university campus in the background.

That summer, the shade of the parasol trees cut the asphalt road into pieces. Wen Junhe’s white shirt puffed slightly in the wind, carrying the clean smell of laundry detergent.

He Ning sat on the back seat, both arms wrapped around Wen Junhe’s waist, able to clearly feel the rise and fall of his abdominal muscles as he breathed.

Sunlight filtered through gaps in the leaves, casting flickering patches of light on them. He Ning pressed his face against Wen Junhe’s back. Whenever the bicycle rolled over a speed bump, Wen Junhe would always say “hold on tight” in advance, then deliberately speed up rushing over it, making He Ning hold on even tighter.

He Ning would complain about being jolted, and at times like this he could hear the muffled laughter coming from Wen Junhe’s chest.

Back then He Ning thought this feeling of pressing against Wen Junhe’s back would last a lifetime.

He had tucked the photo into his passport, and now it lay quietly in the inner pocket of his jacket.

The boarding announcement sounded. He Ning picked up his carry-on.

He took one last look at the gloomy sky outside the window, remembering the words he had written in the text to Wen Junhe: “No need to remember me anymore.”

The plane began to taxi. He Ning pressed his forehead against the cold window. The runway lights on both sides blurred into spots of light in the rain.

One late night a year later.

He Ning opened that international express package in his Sao Paulo apartment.

He stared at Zhou Ji’s familiar signature on the divorce papers for a long time.

This past year, he had grown accustomed to the blazing southern hemisphere sun and noisy streets.

Every Friday he received Zhou Ji’s email on time. They kept their distance across time zones. At first their calls were fairly frequent, but later they both switched to email exchanges, brief and restrained, company updates, Zhou Chong’s treatment progress, occasional mentions of Wen Junhe.

He Ning’s replies were always shorter, three to five lines, like filling out some kind of work report.

In the previous week’s email, Zhou Ji had broken convention and written a very long message.

He Ning clicked it open during a meeting. When he saw the word “divorce,” his reply was very simple, asking Zhou Ji if he had thought it through.

Zhou Ji’s reply came slowly. The tangled relationship with Zhou Chong was destined never to resolve in this lifetime, so he might as well set He Ning free. The details about compensation were in the attachment.

He Ning pulled up that email and read it again, then decided he should still make a trip back to the country.

He didn’t tell Zhou Ji. He just wasn’t at ease about whether that email had truly come from him.

The driver dropped He Ning off at the marital home he and Zhou Ji had purchased outside the Zhou family residence. The lights inside were off. He Ning dragged his luggage and opened the door, only to see Wen Junhe standing before him with both hands in his pockets. Silver moonlight spilled out his silhouette. Night wind blew open the window curtains, revealing that flawlessly handsome face. He Ning’s breath caught. He was about to leave.

But the door was slammed shut from behind by the man. Wen Junhe’s tall figure loomed over his body. Hot breath seemed close enough to touch, like a mountain pressing down on him.

Wen Junhe grabbed He Ning’s arm, his movements not gentle in the slightest, forcing him to make eye contact. He Ning’s arm went numb from the grip. He raised his eyes and saw the man’s tight lip line and jaw.

“Why are you here?”

No one knew where these words hit Wen Junhe’s sore spot. He said coldly: “Because this is the marital home you shared with Zhou Ji, so I shouldn’t show up?”

He Ning: “Let go of me!”

Wen Junhe’s face darkened: “Let go of you, and where are you planning to hide next? Who are you going to be with?”

He Ning shook off his hand, looking straight at Wen Junhe: “Where I go and who I’m with is my business. Please leave my home. Wen Junhe, this is trespassing. I can call the police. You and I don’t have any relationship anymore, understand?”

Wen Junhe’s expression turned terrifyingly dark, his chest heaving, his whole presence icy and frightening.

He felt he had gone mad long ago. A year ago, the birthday he had looked forward to with full heart had ended up like falling into an ice cellar. He gave himself a few days, planning to put down his dignity once more and become He Ning’s second choice.

But He Ning had left without any hesitation. He wasn’t even among the many people He Ning had bothered to inform. He was tortured mad by dense jealousy, not even knowing what he had done wrong. Later Wen Junhe analyzed it seriously. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been gentle with He Ning from the start. Since He Ning was no longer willing to give him love, and had set his sights on other people, he shouldn’t have let so many choices appear around He Ning.

If he could do it over, he would definitely lock He Ning away in a place only he knew, so those eyes could never see anyone else again. When this thought popped up, even Wen Junhe himself was startled, then laughed softly. So this kind of madness had been hidden in his bones all along.

Wen Junhe’s eye color grew deeper and deeper.

The next moment He Ning was suddenly dragged up and thrown over his shoulder. He was startled, then began to struggle, and was soon roughly thrown onto the bed by Wen Junhe.

Wen Junhe pulled off his tie, pressed He Ning onto the bed and tied his wrists.

Wen Junhe’s eyes were a little red, staring at the disheveled He Ning struggling in the big bed, pinching his jaw: “I will fuck you on the bed you shared with Zhou Ji. What kind of relationship do you think we should have?”

He Ning seemed stunned in place by these words, his complexion terrible: “Wen Junhe, let me go! You’re crazy!”

But Wen Junhe only lowered his head to look at him. He had also thought this matter over repeatedly. But watching He Ning play false pleasantries with how many people right in front of him, watching him advance and retreat in step with his so-called husband with mutual respect, with no place left for him at all, he suddenly felt He Ning was indeed somewhat hateful and not worth sympathizing with. Before he hadn’t understood the definition of being promiscuous, but he didn’t want He Ning sleeping with other people.

He Ning wanted to continue degrading and getting revenge on him, but Wen Junhe’s patience was gone. That exceeded his bottom line.

Wen Junhe held his chin with one hand, grabbed his wrist, looking down at He Ning: “Yes, I also think I’m a bit crazy. You’re absolutely right about that. But it’s all your fault.”

He Ning’s chin hurt from being pinched.

“I shouldn’t have let emotions take the upper hand back then and allowed you to marry Zhou Ji. I shouldn’t have put down my dignity to become your lover to make it up to you. You played me like that, and in the end I still got nothing. Even when I didn’t love you enough, I never thought about separating from you. But why can you toss me aside so lightly every time? You make me feel like a complete and utter clown!”

Wen Junhe laughed coldly: “And wishing me all the best. He Ning, you did it. Your methods of getting revenge are brilliantly clever. I admit defeat.”

“Your love hangs on your lips, bewitched me, but failed to move yourself, didn’t it, He Ning.”

Wen Junhe gripped He Ning with great force, even leaving finger marks. He Ning was numb with some pain, but he made no sound, his eyes rimming with faint moisture: “Maybe so. I don’t love you anymore now.”

Wen Junhe stared at He Ning motionlessly, sat up, as if regaining absolute rationality.

He Ning had just propped himself up on his arms when he was suddenly pulled back by a force, his back colliding with a burning hot chest.

Wen Junhe’s arm was like an iron band across his waist, hot breath spraying on the sensitive skin behind his ear, setting off a field of tiny shivers. He Ning subconsciously shrank his neck, his Adam’s apple rolling.

“Wen Junhe,” his voice was a little tight, “what exactly do you want?”

He Ning remembered how Wen Junhe used to be like this too, always loving to suddenly hug him from behind. Back then he would smile and turn around to hug back.

Now he only felt exhausted. The tricks of love and romance were enough to talk about in youth. Holding onto them now was somewhat laughable.

Wen Junhe’s lips pressed against the carotid artery in his neck, the vibration of his words traveling along the blood vessel straight to the heart: “What do you think I want?”

Wen Junhe lowered his body and held him tight, speaking without mincing words: “Fuck you. Didn’t I just say that?”

Then he reached downward. He Ning had lived a chaste life this past year, how could he withstand this kind of teasing.

Wen Junhe nibbled at his neck, his voice drifting: “I don’t like anything you say. Only this is barely tolerable.”

He Ning swallowed nervously: “Wen Junhe, don’t do this.”

Wen Junhe suddenly leaned forward, warm breath deliberately sweeping across He Ning’s ear. At the moment the other man stiffened abruptly, he directly bit those two tightly pressed lips.

He Ning’s head knocked backward, a pained grunt escaping him. His teeth knocked together by reflex, right onto Wen Junhe’s probing tongue.

The taste of blood instantly spread between their lips and teeth.

Wen Junhe rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, wiping out a glaring red mark. He narrowed his eyes, the tip of his tongue pressing against the injured spot, gently licking, rolling the bead of blood into his mouth. The crimson bloodstain on his cold white skin was like a plum blossom petal falling on snow.

He raised his hand and used his fingertip to wipe away the blood at the corner of He Ning’s mouth, the movement light like a caress, but his gaze dark and frightening.

He Ning was still somewhat afraid. He couldn’t calm down, but his mouth wouldn’t soften: “If you force me it’s rape.”

“Fine, if you think it is, it is.”

Wen Junhe leaned his whole body over. He Ning’s eyes went wide.

He Ning’s voice was full of suppressed anger: “Wen Junhe, don’t do this, you bastard…”

Wen Junhe had a clear understanding of himself.

“Yes, I’m a bastard. I’m glad you recognize that.”

He Ning’s face was turned by Wen Junhe, almost unable to breathe: “Zhou Ji… what about that email?”

Wen Junhe’s large palm grasped He Ning’s ankle and pulled, then rubbed his nose against He Ning’s nose, laughing softly: “Still worried about him? Worry about yourself.”

“Mm… Wen Junhe, if you really do this, I’ll hate you…”

“Then hate me.”

No pleasure, only plunder.

He Ning’s mind was a blur. Wen Junhe made him do whatever he wanted.

Probably He Ning’s reaction made Wen Junhe find it amusing. Midway through Wen Junhe asked him how long it had been since he had been with Zhou Ji.

He Ning seemed to hear nothing. Wen Junhe said: “…Anyway there won’t be chances anymore.”

Wen Junhe lowered his head and lightly rubbed his forehead against his face: “I knew you liked this.”

All of Wen Junhe’s words and actions had broken away from convention, like wild plants growing in the wilderness, flailing about aimlessly and uncontrollably. Yet Wen Junhe still asked with bad intentions why he was so wet.

He Ning curled up his body and was forced to stretch out again. Wen Junhe enjoyed the sight of him to his heart’s content.

Wen Junhe listened to He Ning’s murmured pleas for mercy and finally stopped. He thought to himself that the night had only just begun, and he could do everything he wanted to do.

When He Ning opened his eyes, his bones felt like they had been taken apart and put back together.

Sunlight leaked in through the gaps in the blinds, casting strips of golden light on the floor.

A breeze lifted a corner of the gauze curtain, carrying the scent of roses from the garden.

Bare feet on the hardwood floor, pushing open the glass door to the terrace, wind immediately rolled in carrying the scent of the lake.

The man-made lake below shimmered with dark blue light. The long driveway had been renovated.

Everything was familiar to the point of suffocation.

He Ning leaned against the railing, his nails unconsciously digging into the wooden handrail. In the rose garden in the distance, a gardener was trimming branches, the “snip snip” of the scissors audible even from far away.

He looked down at his bare toes, in a daze as if he had returned to that summer forever frozen in memory.

He Ning’s feet suddenly left the ground, the soles leaving the cold floor, his mind regaining a sliver of clarity.

Wen Junhe’s arm ran across the small of his back and the backs of his knees, the cufflink on his suit sleeve pressing against the soft flesh at his waist, the coolness of the metal clearly perceptible through his shirt. He saw his pale toes curl slightly against the backdrop of the other man’s dark trousers, like a startled shellfish retracting into its shell.

“Why aren’t you wearing shoes?”

Wen Junhe’s voice pressed down from above, his Adam’s apple rolling above his collar.

When He Ning raised his eyes he ran straight into those dark eyes, the edges of the irises gleaming with cold light.

He Ning’s fingertips unconsciously grabbed his arm. Wen Junhe only hoisted the person up a bit.

“I bought this place.”

He Ning then understood. The man before him had replaced his father in leaping to become the new master of this kingdom.