The Disliked Shou and the Charming Gong : Chapter 22: He Was Going to Cling On No Matter What

He Ning did soften for a moment because of Wen Junhe’s words. Just that one instant of loosening up was keenly captured by Wen Junhe.

In the narrow space the two of them were already pressed together seamlessly, their breaths tangled beyond distinction. He Ning could only cling tightly to Wen Junhe’s neck to keep his balance. The restroom stall door dug painfully into his back.

When footsteps came from outside, He Ning finally woke up as if from a dream and tried to push the person on top of him away, but Wen Junhe’s arm was like an iron band, not moving an inch.

He bit down hard and swallowed back his moans, but still let out one or two sounds of breath, which sounded exceptionally ambiguous in the enclosed space.

Wen Junhe’s lips never stopped lingering on He Ning’s collarbone, leaving behind burning hot kisses one after another. His voice carried a humble plea: “Ningning, stay with me a little longer, just a little while…”

The faint footsteps coming from outside made this hidden corner seem even more absurd.

Wen Junhe wished he could stretch this moment out infinitely. Once they stepped out of this door, He Ning would turn back into the partner by Zhou Ji’s side. Just thinking of this made his chest feel tight.

The noise from the banquet hall gradually died down. After exchanging pleasantries with several business big shots, Zhou Ji noticed He Ning still hadn’t returned.

He pulled out his phone. His fingertip paused on the contacts for two seconds, then he still dialed out.

In the restroom, He Ning’s phone buzzed and vibrated in his suit pocket. He struggled wanting to get it, but Wen Junhe pressed down on his wrist.

“Ningning,” Wen Junhe’s voice carried the hoarseness of desire not yet faded, his palm slowly sliding down He Ning’s sweat damp chest, “I’ll get it for you.”

He Ning’s entire body was burning hot. He raised his hand to block Wen Junhe’s chin, barely recovering a trace of reason.

The instant he connected the call, Zhou Ji’s voice came through the receiver. Strangely, that voice seemed to simultaneously faintly sound from outside the door. The double sound source made He Ning’s spine stiffen. Right at this moment Wen Junhe’s lips pressed against his earlobe, a wet hot tongue lightly licking, startling him so much he nearly dropped the phone.

“The banquet will probably end in about half an hour. Let’s take my car home.” Zhou Ji’s voice came through the phone, simultaneously accompanied by the clear sound of running water from the faucet outside.

Wen Junhe clearly felt the He Ning in his arms instantly tense up his body. Even He Ning himself hadn’t expected Zhou Ji to appear outside the restroom.

The splashing water sounds continued without stopping, like an invisible barrier standing between the two of them.

Wen Junhe suddenly lowered his voice, his lips almost pressed against He Ning’s ear: “Ningning, if Zhou Ji found out, would you be angry?”

He Ning suddenly turned his head, staring at Wen Junhe in disbelief.

For the first time He Ning truly experienced what “having an affair” meant. His lawful partner was just on the other side of a door, while he himself was being pressed against a restroom stall by his lover.

He Ning could imagine his flushed cheeks and pulled open collar. He probably did look somewhat indecent.

Zhou Ji’s footsteps were clearly audible, so close it seemed like he might push open the door the very next second.

Wen Junhe’s teeth nibbled and ground against his earlobe, wet hot breath spraying against the side of his neck, insisting on waiting for his answer.

He Ning fumbled to hang up the phone. In his panic he opened his mouth and bit down on Wen Junhe’s arm.

This bite showed no mercy.

Wen Junhe hissed in pain, but intensified his grip on his waist even more. Not even a sheet of paper could fit between their two bodies.

He Ning stared at Wen Junhe, suddenly realizing what an absurd thing he was doing. Outside the door Zhou Ji tried calling again, and at the same time the phone vibration sound rang out.

Zhou Ji turned his head and tentatively called out: “He Ning?”

He Ning’s entire body stiffened. Wen Junhe seemed to want to stretch this absurd moment out infinitely.

The corner of Wen Junhe’s mouth pulled into a pale smile. He compromised first: “I won’t make things difficult for you.”

He released his grip on He Ning.

Outside the door, Zhou Ji approached in confusion. Wen Junhe suddenly pulled open the stall door, a flawless business smile hanging on his face: “President Zhou, what a coincidence.”

Zhou Ji’s gaze lingered on Wen Junhe for one second, then swept over his shoulder into the stall, before silently withdrawing his line of sight: “Indeed a coincidence.”

His tone was natural: “By the way, have you seen Ningning? The banquet should be breaking up. We need to go home.”

That word “home” made Wen Junhe’s Adam’s apple move, but his smile didn’t shift an inch: “Haven’t seen him.”

In the mirror reflected Wen Junhe’s back, and Zhou Ji’s thoughtful expression.

The corner of Zhou Ji’s mouth held an appropriate smile: “It doesn’t matter if you haven’t seen him. Maybe he’s already gone home.”

He raised his eyes to look at Wen Junhe, the gaze behind his lenses meaningful: “By the way, President Wen should also have happy events approaching soon, right? You and Miss Kang… you make quite the matching pair.”

Wen Junhe’s knuckles tightened slightly at his side: “President Zhou is joking. Miss Kang and I are just ordinary friends.”

“Is that so? Then it seems I was mistaken,” Zhou Ji laughed lightly, “Then I wish President Wen finds your ideal other half soon. After all, marriage… is really quite nice.”

Those last few words ground across Wen Junhe’s nerves.

After Zhou Ji’s footsteps faded into the distance, He Ning finally came out of the stall, straightening out his messy shirt collar. He looked at Wen Junhe in the mirror: “Wen Junhe, if you don’t want to continue, we can end this now.”

He Ning waited for Wen Junhe to say it’s over, I’m tired, anything.

Wen Junhe lowered his eyelashes, his Adam’s apple moving: “…Sorry, Ningning. I couldn’t hold back.”

When He Ning walked to the parking lot, Zhou Ji was leaning against the car smoking. Seeing him approach, Zhou Ji blew out a smoke ring, the eyes behind his gold rimmed glasses narrowing into a line: “No wonder Zhou Chong has been going crazy in front of me lately, saying you’re cheating on me behind my back.”

He laughed lightly: “I’m quite the magnanimous husband.”

He Ning’s fingers paused on the car door handle, his temples throbbing. He rubbed his temples, his voice carrying exhaustion and gloom: “Just a momentary impulse. I’ll handle it properly.”

“I originally wanted to use this method to make him give up. Who knew it would turn out like this.”

Zhou Ji suddenly leaned in close, his chin lightly pressing against He Ning’s forehead, an unfinished kiss. He Ning froze in place. The tip of his nose was filled with the faint scent of Zhou Ji’s cologne, mixed with a barely detectable smell of alcohol, exceptionally clear in the night air.

“Look up.” Zhou Ji’s voice was very light, yet made He Ning subconsciously obey. His line of sight passed over Zhou Ji’s shoulder, and he saw Wen Junhe standing under a streetlamp not far away, motionless like a sculpture, his entire person seemingly shrouded in a layer of cold mist, like a snake peeping in secret.

The light stretched his shadow very long. Something in his eyes was falling apart.

Zhou Ji’s lips almost pressed against He Ning’s ear, his breath raising tiny currents of air: “He Ning, never go soft on men. They’ll turn into beasts.”

He Ning suddenly raised his eyes: “Do you mind?”

Zhou Ji didn’t directly answer: “Of course I don’t mind you having fun, but if it were someone else I might even give my blessings.”

“Do you think Wen Junhe is willing to be an underground lover forever?”

The night wind blew He Ning’s forehead hair into disarray. Zhou Ji’s voice slowly rang out: “Maybe he’ll become the biggest variable in our marriage, He Ning. Choose what’s most advantageous for you. A person can’t fall into the same mud puddle twice.”

He Ning’s voice tightened: “Of course. Nothing is more important than our agreement.”

Zhou Ji’s finger tapped on He Ning’s ring finger, which was completely bare, nothing there at all: “Looking forward to your good news.”

The wedding ring that had been half coaxed and half tricked off by Wen Junhe last time, He Ning indeed hadn’t worn for a long time.

After returning home He Ning fished that ring out from the drawer and slid it back onto his finger.

Zhou Ji’s words had indeed reminded He Ning. He truly had been involuntarily going soft on Wen Junhe.

Zhou Ji flew to Europe the very next day, his itinerary packed tight like a spinning top. In the morning he was drinking coffee at a Chinese airport, and in the afternoon he was already signing contracts in a conference room in another time zone. Zhou Moufu was determined to groom him into the heir. Every day’s schedule was packed airtight, not even a gap to catch his breath.

After that night at the banquet, He Ning deliberately left Wen Junhe hanging for several days. The unread messages in his phone piled up to double digits. He didn’t reply to a single one.

Until Fu Shao called, saying he couldn’t find the background of that mysterious figure. Only then did He Ning truly take seriously that someone connected to Han Qing whose identity was unclear, someone even Uncle Shao couldn’t figure out, was indeed rare.

“Uncle Shao,” He Ning twirled his fountain pen, “when you were following my dad back in the day, you really never heard of this person?”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds. Fu Shao’s voice was hoarse: “Ningning, I’ve been out of the circle too long. And… knowing too much isn’t necessarily a good thing.”

These words were spoken with deep meaning. He Ning felt like Uncle Shao seemed to know some hidden circumstances.

He never doubted Fu Shao’s abilities, but this time even he couldn’t find any leads. Things were clearly not simple.

He Ning told Fu Shao to take care of his health, saying he would visit when he had time. After hanging up, his finger slid down the contacts list a few times, finally stopping on Meng Xuan’s name.

When the call connected, Meng Xuan’s lazy yawn came from the other end. He sounded like he had just woken up, not knowing which nightclub he had been messing around in last night.

“You only know how to order me around. Didn’t I already tell you? My dad didn’t even dare to keep investigating halfway through.” Meng Xuan’s voice carried the hoarseness of a hangover, but suddenly his tone shifted, “But I heard from that Zhou family kid that you’re back together with Wen Junhe?”

When did Zhou Chong get in touch with Meng Xuan? He Ning didn’t take this bait: “What’s it to you?”

“You couldn’t have actually gotten back together with him.”

“Just sleeping around.”

Meng Xuan let out a laugh close to an antic: The hotel curtains weren’t drawn properly. The sky outside the window was all gray. A fair hand reached out from under the covers, belonging to the person Meng Xuan had brought back last night.

The person beside him casually grabbed some clothes from the bedside and put them on. The clothes were a bit big, the shirt just covering to the base of the thighs, the remaining parts faintly visible. That person planted a kiss on Meng Xuan’s face.

Meng Xuan suddenly reached out and pinched the chin of the boy beside him, his thumb roughly rubbing across the other person’s lip corner. That boy looked somewhat like He Ning. At this moment he was looking up with a fawning expression, but was suddenly flung away by Meng Xuan, staggering and bumping into the sofa armrest, clutching his reddened chin with a bewildered look.

“What’s the point of He Ning sleeping with him?” Meng Xuan sneered into the phone, his voice carrying obvious irritation.

He Ning on the other end of the phone clearly paused, then a sound of scorn came through: “Then what? Sleep with you?”

The disgust in his tone was undisguised. “Put away your dirty thoughts. Your bed changes three waves of people a day. I find it disgusting. Are you helping or not? If not I’ll find someone else.”

Meng Xuan stared at the bewildered boy on the sofa, suddenly bursting into laughter: “Didn’t say I wouldn’t help. But it comes at a price.”

The sea wind carried salty damp air sweeping across the deck. The hem of He Ning’s shirt flapped loudly in the wind. He wore sunglasses leaning against the ship railing, his gaze behind the lenses falling on the distant blurry horizon.

The hot humid air stuck to his skin, unavoidably making one feel irritable for no reason.

Meng Xuan walked over carrying a glass of juice.

“Still putting on a stern face when you’re out having fun?” He stuffed it into He Ning’s hand, following his line of sight to see Zhou Chong not far away.

He Ning took the glass: “You didn’t say he was coming too.”

Meng Xuan plopped down beside him in a carefree manner, his shirt buttons undone to his chest: “What’s wrong, what did Second Young Master Zhou do to offend you?”

He took a sip of wine, his gaze playfully following Zhou Chong’s figure: “I actually think he’s quite to my taste.”

This was the “price” Meng Xuan wanted, having He Ning accompany him on a sea outing. The afternoon sun was scorching. Meng Xuan even brought a group of people to go surfing. He Ning lay alone on a beach chair, his eyes half closed behind his sunglasses.

A drone buzzed overhead circling, like an annoying fly.

He had barely closed his eyes for a few minutes when a familiar voice came from behind.

“Hiding from me all the way here?” Wen Junhe’s voice carried the hoarseness of having rushed over.

He Ning turned his head and looked at him in disbelief. He got up and led the person into the nearest hotel suite. Wen Junhe clearly looked like he had just gotten off a plane and rushed over. The pressure in his eyes had almost turned into substance.

The room door had barely shut when Wen Junhe grabbed his wrist: “Why didn’t you answer the phone?”

He Ning shook off his hand: “Didn’t want to. How did you know I was here?”

The sound of waves faintly drifted in from outside the window, making the silence in the room exceptionally grating.

He Ning: “Wen Junhe, you didn’t install some weird software on my phone, did you?”

Wen Junhe: “No. I just checked your flight using your ID. I remember all your passwords.”

He Ning raised an eyebrow, then tentatively asked Wen Junhe a few passwords. He really could even say out the bank card password he had lost years ago.

He Ning: “…”

“Then have you tried logging into my accounts before?”

Wen Junhe: “…I would check whether you bought a plane ticket to England.”

He Ning had his back to Wen Junhe, his voice calm to the point of cruelty: “Wen Junhe, I thought you would have some self awareness. When I don’t contact you, it means I don’t want to continue. You went too far that day, actually provoking Zhou Ji to his face.”

“I stated the rules of the game from the start. I’m not you, I have no interest in stringing people along when I don’t feel anything. If you can’t take it, we can end this today.”

Wen Junhe’s gaze had already completely darkened. Those long suppressed crazy thoughts finally broke through the cage of reason. Before He Ning could react, he was fiercely grabbed around the waist by an iron arm, his entire person dragged into a burning hot embrace.

Wen Junhe’s breath was frighteningly hot, all of it spraying onto his exposed neck, raising a patch of tiny shivers. He Ning struggled to pry away the arm at his waist, but only received an even tighter imprisonment, the force so strong it almost wanted to break him in half at the waist. He Ning suddenly struggled violently, his elbow striking backward hard: “Wen Junhe! Let me the fuck go!”

His voice carried suppressed anger.

But Wen Junhe seemed deaf, his arm not moving an inch as it gripped his waist, burning hot lips pressed against the back of He Ning’s ear, repeatedly saying “sorry, I’ll never do this again,” his voice hoarse beyond recognition.

He Ning had just opened his mouth when Wen Junhe suddenly covered his mouth. In the struggle He Ning even gave Wen Junhe a slap.

He knew what He Ning was going to say. He didn’t want to hear a single word of those heartless sentences.

He Ning’s wedding ring pressed into the back of his hand, leaving a deep red mark.

Wen Junhe knew He Ning wished he would take the initiative to break up, but he refused.

He was going to cling on no matter what. If they were talking about who came first, Zhou Ji was the latecomer. Why should He Ning throw him aside to go live some “normal life”?

Wen Junhe’s teeth ground across the skin of He Ning’s neck, saying words to keep him: “You’re clearly very happy when you’re with me.”

Before he could finish he was elbowed in the stomach by He Ning, hurting so much he let out a muffled groan, yet still holding on tightly and refusing to let go.

The dark blue tie made a faint rubbing sound when it was pulled off. Wen Junhe’s face was downcast, yet his movements were exceptionally swift and clean. He Ning was pushed against the wall, both hands grabbed and raised over his head, the tie wrapped twice around his wrists, tied fast and tight.

He Ning thought Wen Junhe was going to do something outrageous again, his cursing words already prepared.

But the instant the binding was finished, Wen Junhe suddenly buried his face in the hollow of He Ning’s shoulder. Warm liquid soaked through the fabric. He cried without a sound, only his trembling shoulders betraying his emotions, yet his arms still gripped He Ning’s waist like iron bands.

“I was really wrong. Next time when he appears, I’ll avoid him. Ningning, don’t be angry. I’ve only ever loved you. I don’t know, I really don’t know what to do.”