15 Han Wen

This sentence struck like a sudden downpour, a deluge that left no room to dodge.

Wen Shuhan’s heart skipped a beat, wondering if she had misheard or if he had simply lost his mind.

The atmosphere grew derailed. She forced herself to remain calm and changed the subject: "If you’re tired, hurry back and get some rest."

Chen Yansi’s breath was scorching. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, murmuring in a raspy voice, "I want to rest inside you."

The words were ambiguous and explicit, a sense of aggression enveloping her until her earlobes began to burn.

He held her too tightly to break free. Regretting that she hadn't eaten more, she said with frustration, "I shouldn't have come to pick you up. What on earth has gotten into you lately?"

Chen Yansi lifted his head from her shoulder, his arms tightening, forcing her slender body to press against him once more.

She was completely wrapped in his heat.

Resting his chin on the top of her head, his voice fell, cold and heavy: "Are you happy to stay away from me?"

In an instant, she didn't know how to answer.

Chen Yansi’s breathing deepened. His fingers, with their prominent knuckles, sank into her dark hair, his voice both wistful and overbearing: "I made you happy for two years. Don't you think it’s time you made me happy too?"

Wen Shuhan didn't know what he meant specifically by "happy."

She only felt that he had changed.

He had become increasingly extreme.

Chen Yansi pulled back slightly to look down at her, his warm hand tracing her neck, his thumb caressing her skin.

"Wen Shuhan."

"I want you."

The words were as blunt as a cold blade passing through. Her brow furrowed.

She tried to step back, but he gripped the nape of her neck and pulled her forward.

Her breath was shallow and hurried.

Struggling to clear her thoughts, she said helplessly, "Have I offended you lately? Can you please stop saying such strange things? We have already broken up."

Chen Yansi’s eyes were dark and heavy, revealing no emotion.

After a long moment of staring at each other, he suddenly released her, said nothing, and just watched her quietly.

Wen Shuhan’s throat felt dry; she turned her head to avoid his gaze.

"Ask the secretary’s office to send you back."

The white Volvo left in a hurry.

A moment later, the black Continental flashed its lights against the night. It did not chase after her, but simply made a U-turn with effortless ease.

As if everything were under his control, and there was no need to rush.

The two parted ways in the night.

Chen Yansi drove alone to the Xilai Club.

The building stood proudly in the night, looking perfectly legitimate on the surface, but in reality, it was a high-privacy, members-only playground for the wealthy.

He had always been indifferent to such indulgences, and he hadn't come for that tonight.

He took a special passage to the basement level. The lobby was brightly lit, with several layers of viewing balconies circling the center. The booths were spaced far apart, and everyone’s attention was fixed below.

A boxing match was underway in the octagon cage.

The fighters were locked in one-on-one combat, and it was reaching an exciting climax.

Chen Yansi sat on a sofa chair on the top balcony, one hand supporting his forehead in a languid, relaxed posture. His gaze fell indifferently on the blood and sweat below, his expression thoughtful.

The match involved the interests of various parties, and the notable figures in the circle watching were all waiting to place their bets, hoping for a sure win.

They observed Chen Yansi in secret.

But he didn't seem to intend to bet; he appeared to have come only on a whim to relieve his boredom.

A young attendant stepped forward and respectfully poured him a glass of Louis XIII.

Just as the drink was poured, Liang Yuze swung over from the opposite balcony: "Hey? Thought you were with Chenghao. Did you hear? He escaped from the hospital. Old Man Lu is worried sick. Do you think it’s worth it for a woman? Chasing her to the point of death, he’s almost lost his life."

Liang Yuze sat down beside him. Chen Yansi rested his chin on his palm for a few silent seconds before sneering coldly: "Idiot."

"Right? That’s what I said. Tell him to give up already," Liang Yuze complained.

In the octagon, the clash was fierce, the outcome still uncertain.

Chen Yansi’s gaze had no specific focus. It was unclear what he was looking at, until he suddenly murmured vacantly: "Maybe I should just lock her up until she falls in love with me."

A crisp bell ringing for the match masked his voice. Liang Yuze didn't hear clearly: "Huh? What did you just say?"

Chen Yansi remained enigmatically silent.

***

Wen Shuhan returned to the old mansion feeling uneasy, only to find the housekeeper in the side hall on the first floor, laying down a new Persian rug.

She walked up and asked, "Auntie, is Grandpa not home?"

The housekeeper said softly, "The old master left for Tokyo this evening, invited to attend a lecture. Is there something you need him for?"

She paused. "No, how long will he be gone?"

"About a week."

"Okay."

Chen Zhitang had also gone on a trip, so she could just move back to her own apartment for the week.

The next morning, Chen Yansi came downstairs while fastening his watch.

The housekeeper was serving breakfast. After two trips, it appeared there were only portions for him and Pei Jiayan.

Pei Jiayan was innocently eating seafood porridge when he looked up: "Cousin, you're awake."

Chen Yansi pulled out a chair and sat down, asking flatly, "Where is your sister Shuhan?"

"She said she wouldn't be staying at the mansion for the next few days. Didn't she tell you?"

At these words, his expression darkened.

"She told you?"

"She did," Pei Jiayan replied innocently.

Chen Yansi curled his lip.

Fine.

She was hiding from him again.

***

Wen Shuhan stayed in her own apartment for two days.

She went to the dance studio as usual on weekdays. During lunch, she remembered she had some paperwork to fill out for Sister Yu, so she headed to the office alone.

As the door opened, she saw Liao Xiaoyu rummaging through something on the desk.

Their eyes met, and the other woman hurriedly put the items back, her gaze darting away.

Wen Shuhan said nothing and walked to the desk as if nothing had happened to look for the form she needed.

As they brushed past each other, Liao Xiaoyu asked casually, "Is your hometown Jiangcheng?"

Wen Shuhan’s hand paused.

So this person had been secretly checking her background information.

She gave a brief "Mm." "Why, is there a problem?"

"Oh, nothing really." Liao Xiaoyu leaned against the desk, crossing her arms. "By the way, I saw someone driving to pick you up a while ago. Is that your boyfriend?"

"Are you that curious?"

Wen Shuhan didn't give her an answer.

They weren't close, and she didn't owe her an honest response.

Liao Xiaoyu felt snubbed and didn't ask further.

In the evening, Wen Shuhan drove home, unaware that a red BMW was following behind her.

A short while later, both cars arrived at the apartment complex.

Liao Xiaoyu parked by the side of the road and watched as Wen Shuhan’s white Volvo drove into the underground garage.

She glanced at the name of the complex: Wancheng International.

Just an ordinary, mid-range neighborhood.

She sneered inwardly.

So Wen Shuhan really was just a plain girl.

She had thought there was some massive background supporting her. Since no one was backing her, no matter how others treated her in the future, she would just have to swallow her grievances in silence.

Liao Xiaoyu dropped the smile, turned the wheel, and drove away.

Wen Shuhan took the elevator from the garage to her apartment.

She inserted her key and opened the door as usual.

The next second, the door swung open, and she stood completely stunned.

The place... was empty?!

A flash of insight struck her mind; she already knew whose doing this was.

She immediately picked up her phone to call him. The line took a long time to connect, and the first thing she said was: "Chen Yansi, have you lost your mind!"

After a slight crackle of static, only two cold words came through the earpiece: "Come down."

Helpless, she clutched her phone and hurried downstairs.

A black Bentley was already parked at the entrance of the unit.

In the dim twilight, she stood a few meters away, refusing to get in, her eyes glaring angrily at the person in the backseat.

The window rolled down completely. Chen Yansi was leaning against the seat with his eyes closed, looking calm and composed. The buttons of his suit jacket were wide open, as if some desire had been released along with them.

The air stagnated for a few seconds before Assistant Qiu stepped out of the driver's seat, lowered his voice, and pleaded: "Miss Wen, please just get in the car. It puts me in a very difficult position..."

Wen Shuhan clenched her fists and finally got in.

There was a long silence in the backseat. She spoke first: "Where are my things from the apartment?"

Chen Yansi lazily opened his eyes, propping his forehead against the window frame with one hand, looking at her sideways. His other hand reached out to stroke her cheek.

Softly and slowly, he said, "At my place."

This calm attitude was exactly what drove the rabbit to desperation.

Wen Shuhan’s breathing grew heavier, her eyes reddening: "Because I brought up breaking up with you that time, are you trying to take revenge on me?"

At these words, Chen Yansi let out a soft laugh.

"You've thought too much into it." He rubbed her earlobe wearily and said, "How could I bear to?"

Assistant Qiu sensed the tension and quickly stepped on the gas.

They soon arrived at Yizhang Mansion, one of Chen Yansi’s private residences.

He first led her to the walk-in closet on the second floor.

It was astonishingly large, nearly ten times the size of the one she had at the old mansion. It was like a labyrinth, every meticulously designed shelf filled with luxury goods—some she couldn't even name, custom-made pieces or unique items won at auctions.

A massive full-length mirror was embedded in front of them, and Wen Shuhan saw her own dazed reflection.

Her heart sank. "What is the meaning of this?"

Chen Yansi hugged her from behind, his deep gaze fixed on her in the mirror. "Stay and keep me company. If you’re willing, we can even date again."

He spoke as if he were being reasonable, but the tone was no different from a threat.

She bit her lip and steeled her heart to refuse: "No."

At that, Chen Yansi held her tighter.

His nose brushed against her earlobe, his breath hitching for a second as if he were sighing. Suddenly, he changed his tone, a desperate, raspy plea creeping into his voice: "Wen Shuhan, I’m feeling a bit unwell."

His cheek brushed gently against hers, and her fingertips trembled.

His forehead was indeed running a little hot.

She asked instinctively, "Do you have a fever?"

"I don't know." He half-closed his eyes, his gaze dark as a well, his voice trailing lightly against her ear, "If you're worried, why don't you take my temperature?"

The corners of his eyes in the mirror were red, as if he were truly suffering.

Wen Shuhan felt inexplicably frustrated.

Even in such a chaotic state, she still had to maintain humanitarian standards. She felt her own principles were in dire need of lowering.

She broke free from his embrace and gave him a gentle push toward the sofa chair: "Fine, go lie down."

Chen Yansi complied.

She couldn't find a digital thermometer in the nearby cabinet, only an old-fashioned mercury one.

It would have to do.

She wiped it down with a disinfectant wipe and carefully tucked it into his mouth.

He lay half-reclined on the sofa with his long legs spread, two buttons of his black shirt undone, a trace of wild abandon leaking out.

The thermometer rested loosely against the corner of his mouth. He looked at her with a tipsy, bewitching gaze, his voice hoarse: "How long do I keep it in?"

"A few minutes is fine."

She turned away as she spoke, but he suddenly gripped her wrist, his fingertips brushing across her palm in a slow circle.

Realizing the dangerous implication, she withdrew her hand abruptly.

She suddenly suspected that even his illness was an act.

Just then, a phone call came in. She answered it distractedly.

"Sob, Shuhan, you finally answered. We haven't talked in so long, are you okay?"

She sighed inwardly and said with forced patience: "Sheng Fan, you really are a good person, but we aren't a good match. I’ve said it many times."

Chen Yansi, supporting his forehead, shot a glance over. The thermometer in his mouth looked like an unlit cigarette.

She had called that person "good."

Yet she had never once called him good.

Wen Shuhan had her back to him while taking the call. There was a sob from the receiver, followed by a dramatic plea for her to stay.

Just as she was about to reply, someone gripped her chin firmly.

In a flash of lightning, she was forced to turn halfway around, and her lips were suddenly scorched by heat.

"Mmph!"

The kiss came out of nowhere. Her brain went blank, and she gripped her phone tightly.

Chen Yansi kissed her with a frantic, sucking intensity. The coldness he had used to suppress her earlier turned into magma, swirling and tangling aggressively between her lips and tongue.

The more she struggled, the harder he kissed. Her waist was no wider than a handful, and she went limp from lack of oxygen.

—"Shuhan? Are you listening?"

There was a voice from the receiver. Her heart pounded like a drum, a whimper escaping her throat. She couldn't respond, only be swept away and swallowed by the kiss.

Every time she grew tense, his desire was stirred even more violently.

It was a pleasure like gasping for air on a mountain peak—a sensation Chen Yansi hadn't tasted in a long time.

His scorching hands roamed over her skin, a smoothness like rebirth that left him spellbound.

Chen Yansi let himself go, his raspy voice muffled by the kiss: "Hang up the phone, Hanhan."

Her brows were knitted tightly. Her phone slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor, nearly hitting the mercury thermometer.

The red indicator line hadn't even crossed 37 degrees.

He didn't have a fever at all!

Wen Shuhan’s face was beet red, a mix of emotions surging within her. Furious, she bit down hard on his lip.

Chen Yansi didn't pull away in pain this time; instead, he obsessively kissed her for a moment longer.

Finally, they pulled apart, still linked by a thin silver thread of saliva. The corner of his mouth curled upward, his expression one of arrogant, mocking, and satisfied lust.

Wen Shuhan’s eyes brimmed with tears, a crimson flush spreading from her earlobes to her neck.

Her breathing was ragged as she glared at him, her brows furrowed.

Chen Yansi lowered his eyes, gently stroking her cheek with a lingering smile, and said with keen interest—

"How are you so beautiful even when you're angry?"