The Disliked Shou and the Charming Gong : Chapter 10: My Husband Is Calling Me

He Ning followed Zhou Ji through the gates of the Zhou family home. When he called out “Uncle and Auntie,” he nearly bit his tongue. Zhou’s father sat there, his eyes scanning up and down He Ning’s body several times, finally letting out only a heavy sigh: “Sit down.”

Not far away, Zhou’s mother was dressed in a dark green brocade qipao with gold embroidery. The sapphire necklace around her neck was dazzling enough to make one’s eyes hurt.

She was extremely well preserved, her face showing almost no sign of age. She and Zhou’s father shared that same old-school, steady temperament, as if they belonged to the same world. She placed her hand on Zhou’s father’s shoulder, glanced at Zhou Ji, and smiled in a forced and deliberate way: “You all chat. I’ll go to the kitchen and check if the food is ready.”

Her high heels clicked against the marble floor, the crisp sound trailing all the way toward the dining room.

He Ning sat stiffly on the edge of the sofa. The Zhou family’s decor was refined, and the objects placed around all looked like antiques. Merchants could afford to be a bit flashy after all. He wasn’t someone who had never seen the world.

Zhou Ji, on the other hand, was completely at ease. After sitting down he even casually poured He Ning a cup of tea, the porcelain cup landing on the coffee table with a light clink.

He Ning inexplicably felt like he was sitting on pins and needles.

Zhou Chong was sitting in the single sofa. From the moment He Ning entered, his eyes hadn’t left him, his gaze cold as a knife, as if he wanted to gouge a hole right through him.

A chill ran down He Ning’s spine. Zhou Ji’s hand steadily wrapped around the small of his back.

“Drink your tea.” Zhou Ji pushed the cup toward him.

Zhou’s father suddenly said he had seen He Ning before. He held back from naming the occasion, but it was probably from before He Hongxing was imprisoned.

“Why is the marriage so sudden?” Zhou’s father changed the subject.

Zhou Ji suddenly smiled: “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? Saves me from going out and ruining anyone else.”

The words carried a hidden meaning.

Zhou’s father’s face instantly darkened. The teacup in his hand was set down heavily. Zhou’s mother had somehow already returned to the living room, standing by Zhou’s father saying it was time to eat.

The dinner table was somewhat oppressive, but Zhou’s mother was doing her best to liven up the atmosphere. He Ning answered each of Pang Rao’s questions seriously, appearing especially well behaved and sensible.

Amid the clinking of silver cutlery, the knife and fork in Zhou Chong’s hand scraped against the porcelain plate, making an ear piercing noise. Each scrape seemed deliberate.

A flash of displeasure crossed Pang Rao’s face: “Little Chong, today is your big brother’s big day. Mind your manners.”

Zhou Chong shrugged his shoulders, his eyes fixed straight on Zhou Ji across from him. He suddenly raised his wine glass: “Of course. Big brother’s big day.”

He deliberately bit down hard on those last three words: “Congratulations on your wedding, big brother.”

“Thank you.” Zhou Ji replied crisply.

Zhou Chong suddenly shot to his feet. The chair scraped against the floor with an ear piercing sound. He grabbed the suit jacket draped over the back of the chair and walked out without looking back.

Not a single person in the whole room spoke up to stop him. Only Pang Rao called out “Little Chong.”

Zhou’s father looked at Zhou Ji and only said heavily: “Once you’re married, cut off all those improper thoughts from before. Live your life properly.”

“Okay.” Zhou Ji agreed crisply, his face showing neither joy nor anger.

That night Zhou Ji stayed over at the Zhou family home.

He Ning and Zhou Ji stood on the third floor terrace. The moonlight was faint, like a layer of gauze draped over their shoulders. Zhou Ji lit a cigarette. The embers flickered in the darkness. Not far in the distance there was the sound of insects chirping, intermittent, making the night seem even quieter.

Zhou Ji flicked the ash, his voice mixing with the night breeze: “Zhou Chong is only five years younger than me. He had a heart condition since he was little, so the whole family spoiled him.”

Zhou Chong’s temperament was unpredictable, yet he only clung to Zhou Ji alone. That kid had been like a piece of sticky candy since childhood, impossible to shake off.

“After that incident, Zhou Chong knelt before my parents and told them I had seduced him.” Zhou Ji said, “My dad said I was a pervert, that I wouldn’t even let my own brother go.”

“Later I ran away.” Zhou Ji pressed the cigarette butt against the railing, “The farther the better.”

He Ning stared at Zhou Ji’s profile: “Your parents are this biased toward a child who isn’t even their own?”

Zhou Ji said: “Zhou Chong’s father saved my dad’s life, so I can understand.”

The words were simple, but He Ning clearly saw a shadow flash through his eyes. The resentment of being betrayed by his closest kin, the bitterness of his family not trusting him, all pressed beneath this lightly spoken explanation.

He Ning suddenly straightened up, his tone exceptionally firm: “Brother Zhou, I’ll play this act with you to the very end.”

Zhou Ji was clearly stunned for a moment, then let out a low laugh. He reached out and ruffled the top of He Ning’s head: “He Ning, if one day you don’t want to act anymore, tell me anytime. I just want Zhou Chong to give up completely.”

He Ning smiled and nodded, thinking to himself that he too was using this act to cut off his own lingering hopes.

It would be nice if Wen Junhe never came back.

He Ning was sleeping in the Zhou family’s guest room when his phone suddenly rang. After connecting, amid the static, a familiar yet strange voice came through: “Where are you? I’m downstairs at your place. I’ve been waiting for you for almost three hours.”

He Ning sat up.

“Not breaking up, and now you’re going to marry Zhou Ji?” Wen Junhe’s voice came through, “He Ning, just how stupid can you get?”

“Wen Junhe, we ended five years ago.” He Ning’s voice tightened, “Can’t we just be strangers from now on? Can you stop meddling in my affairs?”

“No.” Wen Junhe bit down hard on each word, “You think I want to manage you? Seeing you live your life like this really pisses me off.”

He Ning suddenly let out a sigh: “Then please stop looking from now on. Just cut me out of your life completely, okay? However lousy my life is, it’s my business.”

“But what about us? We were married too, He Ning.”

He Ning didn’t know whether to feel glad that Wen Junhe actually still remembered that wedding of theirs.

“Back then, I was too childish about it.”

“Wen Junhe, don’t call again. I’ll block your number. My husband will mind. I’ll send my resignation letter to HR. No matter what, thank you for your concern.”

Wen Junhe listened to the busy tone coming from the phone. His body, which had been leaning against the car, suddenly went rigid.

The next second, the phone was slammed hard against the ground. The screen exploded into spiderweb cracks on the concrete.

He rarely lost control like this. In outsiders’ eyes, Wen Junhe was always perfectly composed, his emotions as stable as a precision instrument.

The night wind blew past. He stood in place and took several deep breaths before bending down to pick up that shattered phone. The cracked glass edge cut his palm, but he acted as if he couldn’t feel the pain, gripping the wreckage tightly in his hand.

This time He Ning really didn’t want him anymore.

That person who used to come running back no matter how many times he was pushed away was now saying he was going to marry someone else.

Wen Junhe stared blankly at the blood in his palm. The name “He Ning” was like a damned switch, one end connected to the humiliation of being threatened by He Hongxing back then, the other end pulling out the image of He Ning with bright eyes holding him.

Five years had passed. Wen Junhe could no longer tell what his obsession with He Ning was. Was it the unwillingness of being dumped first, or the nostalgia of being accustomed to being loved?

His temples throbbed. He only knew one thing: He Ning shouldn’t give the feelings he once gave him to someone else in the exact same way.

That He Ning who always loved burrowing into his arms, who would lie on his lap like a puppy, whose hair would brush against his knee when he turned over. His fingers were always restless, touching his Adam’s apple, tracing his jawline, as if studying some rare treasure.

Wen Junhe used to find it annoying, but now he couldn’t stop thinking: Would He Ning do the same to Zhou Ji?

Wen Junhe used to always think He Ning was noisy. Those trivial, petty matters, those meaningless empty words, were clearly the garbage time he most looked down upon. Yet every time He Ning nestled beside him muttering away, he would put down the documents in his hand and quietly listen to the end.

Sometimes He Ning would suddenly call his full name, insisting he put down his work and make eye contact. Those eyes were shockingly bright, as if they held all the starlight in the world.

Wen Junhe looked annoyed on the surface, but he would always unconsciously reach out and smooth down He Ning’s hair that was sticking up.

How could there be someone as annoying as He Ning in this world?

Wen Junhe suddenly tugged at the corner of his lips. He would make He Ning come back, just like before, with only him in his eyes, only touching him with his fingers.

The five missed years, the love He Ning once gave, he would claim back with interest.

The next morning, HR indeed delivered He Ning’s resignation application. Wen Junhe glanced at it and signed, his face showing no emotion whatsoever.

HR supervisor Sister Li stood before the desk and spoke up: “Actually He Ning should have been let go a long time ago. His team leader has reported to me many times. He’s much better now. At the beginning his proposals were constantly wrong. Although he graduated from a prestigious school, this has nothing to do with ability. It’s completely an attitude problem. Sometimes it’s like he has no brain at all. When he gets scolded, he looks pretty pitiful.”

Wen Junhe’s fountain pen suddenly stopped above the signature line. He looked up at Sister Li, his gaze cold as if tempered by ice.

Sister Li immediately fell silent.

When Zhou’s father first learned of He Ning’s identity, his brow furrowed so tightly it could pinch a fly to death. But compared to the scandal of his two sons entangled together, this flaw seemed still tolerable.

So he more or less accepted this marriage.

Since He Ning had agreed to play this act with Zhou Ji, he would see it through to the end. Consider it repayment for the hand Zhou Ji extended when he was at his most wretched.

He remembered those most difficult days. Zhou Ji never asked too many questions. That perfectly measured gentleness, He Ning would remember for the rest of his life.

In all his years of living, besides his father, few people had ever treated He Ning sincerely. His former lover was with him under duress. His so-called friends ran faster than anyone when he fell on hard times. His lackey turned around and bit back in revenge.

At his most desperate, He Ning even felt his own existence was a mistake.

So he genuinely wanted to treat Zhou Ji well. What’s more, in He Ning’s eyes, that unpredictable lunatic Zhou Chong was completely unworthy of Zhou Ji.

Zhou Ji wanted to reclaim everything that belonged to him. Being able to do something for Zhou Ji, He Ning also felt very happy.

The wedding date was set in a rush, no more than half a month from start to finish. He Ning originally thought just going through the motions would be enough, not even planning on getting rings. But Zhou Ji wouldn’t agree. He held the wedding planning book and flipped through it page by page for He Ning to see: “Everything that should be there must be there. What I can give you, not a single thing will be missing.”

“Young Master Zhou is really generous.” He Ning joked with a smile.

The corners of Zhou Ji’s eyes and brows were all smiles: “We’re doing it, and it has to be grand! The more glamorous the better. Should we invite Wen Junhe too?”

He Ning shook his head.

Although Zhou’s mother complained all day about the timeline being too rushed, she still personally oversaw the wedding preparations. He Ning once ran into her frowning at the guest list, muttering “this scale is too small,” then turning around to call and book twenty more tables.

He Ning guessed that Zhou’s father and mother had probably been severely shaken by that whole business between Zhou Ji and Zhou Chong, so their tolerance toward him as the “daughter-in-law” was unusually high.

On the wedding day, guests gathered like clouds. Zhou Chong never showed up. He Ning held Zhou Ji’s arm, a perfectly measured smile on his face. Anyone who saw them would think they were a loving newlywed couple.

Probably because he knew everything was fake, He Ning was completely relaxed the whole time.

Until that uninvited guest approached with a champagne glass in hand. Meng Xuan stood before them in a crisp suit, his wine glass lifting slightly: “Congratulations to Young Master Zhou. He Ning, happy wedding.”

The smile at the corners of his mouth carried a serpentine quality.

Zhou Ji was clearly startled for a moment: “You two know each other?”

“Old classmates.” Meng Xuan’s gaze roamed over He Ning’s face, his tone intimate to the point of discomfort, “With a particularly ‘close’ relationship.”

He deliberately emphasized those last two words: “I’ve helped He Ning out quite a bit, haven’t I?”

He Ning’s face remained unmoved: “…Yes.”

Zhou Ji gently patted He Ning’s hand: “Then you greet your classmate first. I’ll be right back.”

After speaking he turned and walked into the crowd.

Once Zhou Ji was far enough away, the fake smile on Meng Xuan’s face immediately collapsed. He swirled his champagne glass, looking He Ning up and down: “I underestimated you. I thought by now you’d be hiding in some gutter like a cockroach. Didn’t expect you to climb up to the Zhou family. I thought the news had it wrong.”

He Ning looked at him with no expression: “Then the you who used to follow behind me like a lapdog, wouldn’t that make you even worse than a cockroach?”

The corner of Meng Xuan’s mouth twitched: “Pretty confident, aren’t you.”

He suddenly leaned in close, looking down at He Ning: “I ran into Wen Junhe a while back. At the opening ceremony when you first saw him, you stole glances at him more than ten times, right? That face, that body, definitely something else. But I really can’t figure it out. How could you be so devoted to him?”

He Ning gave him a cold glance: “What’s it to you?”

Meng Xuan let out an exaggerated laugh: “Seriously though, Wen Junhe being able to rise so spectacularly back then was all thanks to you, Young Master He, propping him up.”

He tilted his head, as if appreciating He Ning’s expression: “You treated him like a treasure, but he only saw you as a stepping stone. The day your dad had his downfall, he was probably happier than anyone. Later he abandoned you and went abroad without looking back.”

“But someone like him probably would never like you in this lifetime. What you did to him back then, and the things I did for you… I heard Han Qing is pursuing him now. Don’t you feel unwilling to accept it?”

“I know he won’t like me.” He Ning interrupted him, his voice calm beyond belief, “I knew that much earlier than you.”

“But I was the one who dumped him. There’s nothing to feel unwilling about. If Han Qing likes him, then I wish him success.”

He Ning had just turned around when he collided with Wen Junhe’s gaze fixed directly on him. That person stood a few steps away, his suit crisp, but his eyes dark and terrifying.

Meng Xuan tactfully stepped aside, the corner of his mouth carrying the curve of someone enjoying the spectacle.

Wen Junhe glanced at Meng Xuan’s retreating back, that gaze carrying murderous intent.

He Ning was about to walk away when his wrist was suddenly grabbed. Wen Junhe pulled him into a corner, his voice pressed extremely low: “That injury on the back of your head, what exactly happened?”

He Ning’s face went deathly pale in an instant.

That wound was like a floodgate. The moment it was mentioned, countless unbearable memories came pouring out. The smell of hospital disinfectant, Han Qing and Meng Xuan’s hypocritical condolences and compensation.

Wen Junhe’s fingers were still gripping his wrist, the force painful.

He Ning could feel the curious gazes of the surrounding guests.

“Han Qing said it was an accident? He said you couldn’t accept your father’s outcome back then and fell down the stairs yourself.”

He Ning suddenly recalled something from long ago. Back when they had just gotten together, Han Qing had publicly humiliated him. His temper hadn’t been so good back then, and he had fired back on the spot. The next day Han Qing had been beaten up outside school. Wen Junhe hadn’t even asked before directly deciding he was the one who did it.

He knew he wasn’t a good person in Wen Junhe’s heart. Han Qing’s mouth could turn black into white. Over the years who knew how many versions he had spun to smear him.

What was the point of explaining? Wen Junhe had always only believed what he wanted to believe.

“Whatever he says, let it be.” He Ning tried to break free of the other’s hand. The wedding ring on his ring finger flashed, and Wen Junhe found it blinding.

Wen Junhe’s hands suddenly clamped down on He Ning’s shoulders. He stared into He Ning’s eyes, squeezing out each word from between his teeth: “I want to hear it from you.”

He Ning pressed his lips together and said nothing. Just then, Zhou Ji’s voice came from not far away, warm yet clear, calling out “He Ning, come here.”

He Ning broke free of Wen Junhe’s hand. He straightened out his wrinkled suit and put back on his proper smile: “Sorry, my husband is calling me.”

After speaking he turned and walked away, not looking at Wen Junhe again.

Wen Junhe’s hand still hung in midair. He watched He Ning walk toward Zhou Ji. He watched Zhou Ji naturally wrap his arm around He Ning’s waist. He watched He Ning look up at his new husband and smile, that smile Wen Junhe knew all too well. It used to be only for him.

The light spots refracted by the champagne tower were dazzling. Wen Junhe suddenly felt like a hole had been stabbed through his chest, cold wind whistling through it.