Chapter Twenty-Eight: What Answer Do You Want?

The blinding light from the red headlights shone through the windshield, casting a blood-red glare on Li Yaodong's face. His fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white, and his jawline taut.

"Debt relationship?" he repeated the four words, his voice so low it was almost inaudible.

Cheng Yin nodded, puzzled by his sudden change of expression: "I do owe you 870,000." She paused, "With interest, it should be even more."

"Interest," Li Yaodong said in a low voice, "How much do you think we should pay now?"

Cheng Yin began to calculate carefully: "With a principal of 870,000, at an annual bank interest rate of 4.35%, the interest for three months and twelve days should be..." She paused, "...about 26,700, but it might be higher..."

As soon as the light turned green, he stepped on the gas, and the car shot forward, causing Cheng Yin's back to slam heavily against the seat.

Li Yaodong sneered, "You've calculated things very clearly."

That's true. Interest calculation is a professional skill, and she simply gave the most accurate answer.

The car drove towards the sea and eventually stopped at a secluded viewing platform. The sun was setting, casting a golden-red hue on the sea, with fishing boats dotting the horizon in the distance.

Li Yaodong turned off the engine but showed no intention of getting out of the car. "Cheng Yin," he turned to her, his gaze intense, "Do you think our relationship is only about debt?"

Cheng Yin's eyelashes trembled slightly. This problem was far too complex, beyond her calculations.

"Otherwise what?" she retorted, her voice as soft as a feather.

Cheng Yin instinctively stepped back, her back pressed against the car door.

"Look at me," Li Yaodong commanded.

Cheng Yin looked up and met his eyes. Those eyes, which were always unfathomable, were now incredibly bright, like torches in the night, so hot they almost melted her.

"If it were just about debt," Li Yaodong said, emphasizing each word, "I wouldn't take you to eat at the old street food stalls, I wouldn't teach you to swim, I wouldn't let you use my kitchen..." His voice trailed off, "and I certainly wouldn't tell you at the Lin family's house that you're my girlfriend."

"What...is that?" she asked softly.

Li Yaodong's Adam's apple bobbed slightly: "What do you think?"

Cheng Yin's fingertips unconsciously tightened around the hem of her cheongsam. This problem was far more difficult than a math problem; there was no formula, no standard answer, only the roar of her heartbeat in her ears.

"I...I don't know," she finally answered honestly.

Li Yaodong stared at her for a few seconds, then suddenly let go of her hand and sat back in the driver's seat. He rolled down the window, and the sea breeze, carrying a salty smell, rushed in, dispelling the tense atmosphere inside the car.

"Never mind." He lit a cigarette.

"Li Yaodong," she said suddenly.

"Um?"

"Next time... you can just tell me directly," Cheng Yin carefully chose her words, "what kind of answer do you want?"

Li Yaodong's cigarette hovered in mid-air, then he laughed out loud: "Cheng Yin, Cheng Yin..." He shook his head, "Some things can't be understood just by being 'told'."

As the sun sank below the horizon, the last rays of golden light lingered briefly on Li Yaodong's face before disappearing. The car interior fell into darkness, with only the flickering red glow of a cigarette butt.

"Let's go home." Li Yaodong stubbed out his cigarette and started the car.

The neon lights of Haojiang flowed outside the car window like spilled paint, blurring the silence between the two.

The car didn't return to Gapper, but instead headed towards Lai Yiu-tung's mansion.

"Li Yaodong," she said, "thank you for the cheongsam. It's beautiful."

Li Yaodong's expression softened for a moment, but he was still somewhat tense: "You're welcome."

As the elevator doors opened, Cheng Yin's high heels clicked crisply on the marble floor.

The sound of running water filled the bathroom, and Li Yaodong's blurry figure was reflected in the frosted glass.

Cheng Yin stood in the center of the living room, her moon-white cheongsam gleaming like pearls under the overhead light, making her appear even more frail.

Li Yaodong's anger was like an invisible fog, permeating every corner of the mansion, making her unconsciously slow down her breathing.

The bathroom door opened, and steam carrying the scent of ambergris wafted out.

Li Yaodong was only wearing a bath towel; water droplets slid down his chest, leaving winding water trails on his abs. He saw Cheng Yin still standing there, and frowned slightly: "Not asleep yet?"

She suddenly remembered the feeling of his muscles taut under her fingertips when she changed his dressing.

"I was thinking..." Cheng Yin carefully chose her words, "Why are you angry?"

Li Yaodong tossed the towel onto the sofa, walked to the liquor cabinet, and poured himself a glass of whiskey. The sound of ice cubes hitting the glass was particularly crisp in the quiet room.

"I'm not angry," he said, taking a sip of his drink with his back to her.

Cheng Yin looked at his tense shoulders, the curve of which was clearly the result of anger. She hesitated for a moment, then slowly walked over and stopped a step away from him.

"I've upset you," she stated, "Can you tell me why?"

Li Yaodong turned around, the scent of alcohol mixed with the fragrance of shower gel wafting towards him. His eyes, under the light, took on a deep amber hue, carrying a heart-stopping warmth.

"Cheng Yin, do you know the difference between a prostitute and a mistress?"

Cheng Yin shook her head.

"Prostitutes charge by the session, mistresses charge by the month," Li Yaodong said, emphasizing each word. "But you are neither."

The night view of the Pearl River Delta outside the window is as dazzling as a galaxy, but it cannot illuminate the shadow between the two.

"I spent 870,000 yuan to buy your loyalty, not your body."

"You never lie," Li Yaodong put down his glass, "but sometimes, honesty hurts more than lies."

Seeing her confused expression, Li Yaodong finally sighed, "Never mind, go to sleep."

Instead of turning and leaving as usual, Cheng Yin took a step forward and gently hugged Li Yaodong.

The hug was awkward; her face was pressed against his bare chest, and she could hear his heart pounding faster.

Li Yaodong was stiff all over, as if a pause button had been pressed.

"Is this what you want?" Cheng Yin asked softly, her voice hoarse but clear. "Can I hold you?"

He took a step back and cupped her face in his hands: "Cheng Yin, look at me."

"That's not what I want," Li Yaodong said in a low voice. "I want you to say 'I love you' willingly."

Cheng Yin couldn't understand what she had done wrong. Li Yaodong taught her to speak sweet nothings in Cantonese, took her to the old street, bought her cheongsams... wasn't he just teaching her how to please him?

Cheng Yin blinked: "You can tell me now."

"Not now." Li Yaodong shook his head. "Not to pay off debts, not to curry favor, but..." His fingers finally landed on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, "...the day you truly understand the meaning of these words, the debt will be wiped clean."

Cheng Yin was even more confused.

What's so special about that sentence? She could say it a hundred times a day if it could pay off her debts.

Li Yaodong seemed to see through her thoughts, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "Remember," he took a step back, "it's all from the heart."

After saying that, he picked up his wine glass and walked towards his study, his back straight and lonely.

Cheng Yin stood there, a strange pain rising in her chest that she didn't understand.

She went back to her room, took off her cheongsam, and carefully hung it up. The woman in the mirror was pale, and her lips were bitten until they bled from confusion.

She suddenly realized that she might never understand this request. Just as she didn't understand why Li Yaodong would declare her to the Lin family as his girlfriend, she didn't understand why a simple debt relationship had become so complicated.

Outside the window, the lights of the Haojiang Tower have gone out.

She softly repeated the words: "I like you."

His pronunciation was standard, and his tone was flat, as if he were reading a financial statement.

No. That's not right.

She tried again, softening her voice slightly: "I like you."

It's still not right; it feels like acting.

Cheng Yin turned over and buried her face in the pillow. She didn't understand why four simple words were so difficult, more difficult than learning vernacular, more difficult than falsifying accounts, and even more difficult than enduring her aunt's belt.

Because the former only injured the skin and flesh, but this...where is this injured? She didn't know.

Half-asleep, Cheng Yin felt someone gently push open the door.

The familiar scent of ambergris drew near, and a thin blanket was carefully draped over her. The person paused for a moment, gently brushing a stray strand of her hair behind her ear with their fingers, as if handling a precious treasure.