Chapter Forty-Two: Memories

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"You know perfectly well whether you're joking or just trying to provoke me."

Wen Zhuo looked up and stared straight at him: "What do you mean?"

Wen Zhaoye moved the fingers that were pressing on the back of her neck to her front and gently gripped her throat. Wen Zhuo glanced at his fingers, her face expressionless, just staring at him.

Wen Zhaoye tightened his grip, his cheek muscles taut: "You know what I mean, Wen Zhuo. Do you think I don't understand you?"

His voice burned with anger: "You never intended to go home from the beginning. You always categorized me with that group of people, planning to abandon me along with them so you could continue to run away and continue living your happy life, is that it?"

"Even now, you still hold this view, don't you, Wen Zhuo!" He pressed his hands firmly on Wen Zhuo's shoulders, making her unable to move.

Wen Zhuo felt as if something was stuck in her throat, silencing her. After a pause, she replied, "I wasn't meant to stay there in the first place. Shouldn't I have left?"

Wen Zhaoye's hand, which was gripping her throat, moved upwards, cupping her cheeks. Wen Zhuo lowered her eyes, unwilling to look at him. Her thick eyelashes drooped down, obscuring her eyes.

He lowered his head and placed a wet kiss on her cheek.

"Wen Zhuo, why am I one of those people you abandoned too?"

He held Wen Zhuo tightly, as if trying to press her into his very bones, to make her one with his flesh and blood once more.

Wen Zhuo is a soft-hearted person, and she is less likely to get angry when Wen Zhaoye complains to her in a wronged manner.

Wen Zhuo raised his hand and patted him: "Brother, you're still my brother."

Wen Zhaoye's lips moved to hers, gently nibbling at her skin, and he whispered, "Just my brother?"

Wen Zhuo sensed something was wrong. She turned her head away warily, wanting to see Wen Zhaoye's expression, but found that her face was being pinched and she couldn't move.

She suddenly became angry and retorted vaguely, "Otherwise what?"

Wen Zhaoye held her lips in his mouth, wetting her dry skin, and said somewhat indistinctly, "If my brother can do these things, then he is my brother."

Wen Zhuo: "..."

Afterwards, Wen Zhaoye often asked her for promises, but Wen Zhu always felt that this would make her less free, so she could only brush it off. The two often argued about this, and Wen Zhu didn't want to recall the past that was accompanied by loud arguments, kisses, and the sound of water.

Wen Zhaoye's calls woke her up, and Wen Zhuo realized that she had accidentally fallen asleep. She opened her eyes and a handsome face that had just haunted her dreams loomed large in front of her. Wen Zhuo almost cried out. She took a deep breath and forcefully pushed Wen Zhaoye's face away.

"Why are you only getting up now? Aren't you going to eat?"

Wen Zhuo looked down at her semi-transparent body: "I'm not human, why do I need to eat?"

Taking advantage of her lowered head, Wen Zhaoye scooped her up and carried her towards the door: "Let's eat! Even if you're a ghost, you still have to eat!"

Wen Zhu struggled frantically on him like a fish out of water: "Put me down!"

Wen Zhaoye was shaken so much by her that he was unsteady on his feet. He raised his other hand to pat her thigh to calm her down.

Wen Zhuo's body stiffened for a moment in a strange way. Her eyes widened, and a hint of anger appeared in her blood-red eyes. Instantly, she struggled even more violently.

"What are you doing?! Are you out of your mind?! Let go of me! Let go of me!!"

Wen Zhaoye quickly withdrew his hand, somewhat at a loss. He squeezed out a few words from his throat: "I didn't mean to."

Wen Zhuo didn't care about any of that. She was furious. She reached down and hooked her arm around his neck, trapping his throat between her arms.

Wen Zhaoye was already unsteady from her antics, and then she strangled him. With half of Wen Zhuo's body on his head, Wen Zhaoye couldn't see the way and tripped over something. The two of them fell to the ground together.

"Hiss." Wen Zhaoye gasped. Being trapped in Wen Zhuo's waist and abdomen, Wen Zhuo realized that the position was not right and reacted very quickly, immediately floating off Wen Zhaoye's body.

Wen Zhaoye grabbed her hem and looked up at her. Wen Zhuo lowered her head and glared at him, but did not forcefully slap Wen Zhaoye's hand away.

She lifted the hem of her dress, and Wen Zhaoye's hand moved up and down with her movement.

His hair was disheveled, the black strands blending into his shadow, making his expression dark and brooding. Wen Zhaoye looked at Wen Zhuo, his throat a little dry: "You remembered?"

How was this discovered?

Wen Zhu blinked: "What?"

"Wen Zhuo!" Wen Zhaoye jumped up and pounced on her. Wen Zhuo didn't float very high, and Wen Zhaoye was just able to catch her. Wen Zhuo was tackled to the ground, her black hair scattered, but her expression didn't change much.

Wen Zhuo: "Okay, I remember now. So, are you still going to lock me up?" She moved her head to the side, resting it on Wen Zhaoye's hand that was supporting her head.

Wen Zhaoye's fingers twitched, touching her cold skin: "Close."

Wen Zhuo's expression turned dissatisfied: "I want to go out and play! I already said I'm not leaving."

"At least take this chain off for me."

Wen Zhaoye stared at her intently, as if trying to see through her mind. He leaned down, and a strange pressure suddenly pressed down on Wen Zhuo. Wen Zhuo looked at him warily.

What are you going to do?

Looking at her expression, Wen Zhaoye suddenly smiled again, twirling a strand of her hair with his fingers: "Why do you always have to leave me?"

"So you've remembered and you still want to leave me, is that it?"

Wen Zhuo forcefully pulled her hair out of his hand and said angrily, "I already said I'm not leaving! Can't you even understand human language?"

Wen Zhaoye fell silent. He seemed to have suddenly lost all his strength, collapsing onto Wen Zhuo and burying his head in Wen Zhuo's neck, wrapping around Wen Zhuo like a vine. His embrace tightened, and with his movements, black gas emanated from his body, slowly sinking and enveloping Wen Zhuo until it completely enveloped him.

This was his obsession; he was becoming increasingly intolerant of any possibility that Wen Zhuo might leave him.

Wen Zhuo disliked his constant following and discipline during their university years. They often argued, and their last conversation was also a heated argument.

What will happen when she recalls her memories? Will she hate him? If they hadn't argued, would she have run away in a fit of anger?

She didn't hate him, Wen Zhaoye thought, but she still had to leave. Why did she still have to leave?

Wen Zhuo was held so tightly by him that she almost felt like she was about to suffocate. Wen Zhaoye's obsession poured into her body, and Wen Zhuo had no idea what he was thinking.

"Let go! Let go of me! Wen Zhaoye!"

Wen Zhuo forcibly removed his arm from his body, lifted him up, straddled him, grabbed his collar, and questioned him, "What are you thinking about now?"

Wen Zhuo didn't understand why Wen Zhaoye was always so insecure. Ever since she came back, he had been constantly checking whether her thoughts and actions were leading to the option of leaving him, even though she had been staying at home with him for more than a week.

Wen Zhaoye coughed, then looked up at Wen Zhuo. His dark eyes were dull and lifeless, and his gaze once again climbed onto her body. His human warmth burned her skin. Wen Zhuo did not speak, nor did she push him away.

Wen Zhaoye bit her neck, grinding his teeth against her skin. At this moment, he seemed more like someone who needed blood to live. His voice was hoarse, as if rubbing against Wen Zhuo's eardrums: "Remember? You only had two choices."

"Stay, or kill me."