Chapter 11 Now I'll back you up...
"Continue." Chu Song's slender fingers neatly arranged Xie Tang's cards, and casually played an East Wind card.
Whether it was his overwhelming aura or his unapproachable demeanor that had an effect, the undercurrents at the card table immediately subsided.
Chu Li stopped frequently taking or drawing cards, Chu Yi also restrained his fierce attacks, and even Wen Qu quietly slowed down the speed at which she drew cards.
With the sound of dice rolling on the velvet, the scales of victory began to tip.
Xie Tang glanced sideways at Chu Song, whose expression was calm. His slender fingers moved among the cards, and the distinct knuckles of his wrists were faintly visible with each movement.
He suddenly looked up, his eyes sparkling with a subtle light, which startled her.
A faint orange fragrance wafted in the air, Chu Song's Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and his knee under the card table subtly brushed against her skirt.
Chu Li threw the Nine of Bamboo on the table: "You two are exchanging glances, are you here to play cards or to flirt?"
Chu Song ignored him, and as if blessed with good fortune, he won the next few rounds without losing, and the chips piled up into a small mountain in his palm.
He gave all the money he won to Xie Tang.
Xie Tang fanned out the banknotes and waved them in front of Chu Li: "So this is what it feels like to win money."
I suddenly remembered a scene from my childhood in the Chu family garden, where I stood with my hands on my hips and argued with him until he was speechless.
"What are you thinking about?" Chu Song noticed her distraction and gently traced a line on her palm with his fingertip.
“I remember when my older brother was a kid, he would get so angry after losing that he kicked the rose trellis askew.” She whispered in his ear, but said loudly, “He even kicked the rose trellis askew.”
Amidst the crisp clinking of mahjong tiles, Chu Song chuckled softly, his warm breath brushing against Xie Tang's ear: "Now I've got your back."
"Ugh... I'm getting goosebumps all over!" Chu Li rubbed his arms and leaned back. "You two are so lovey-dovey, I can't even play my cards properly."
Wen Qu couldn't help but chuckle and reached out to pat the back of his head: "You talk too much."
Chu Yi slowly arranged the cards and said casually, "How about I get you a coat?"
Chu Li glanced at him sideways, "Even you're making fun of me!"
"I won." Chu Song pushed over the tiles in front of him.
Xie Tang turned to Chu Li and smiled, "Big brother is about to lose money."
Chu Li stared wide-eyed at Chu Song's hand, and after a long while, he managed to choke out, "I'm not playing anymore."
This caused everyone at the table to burst into laughter.
Mingwei sat at the tea table in the courtyard, the celadon teacup in her hand warm and slightly hot.
The autumn wind swept past the osmanthus tree in the corner of the courtyard, carrying the delicate fragrance of the flowers along with the laughter from upstairs to her.
The tea soup reflected dappled shadows of trees, and also her slightly reddened eyes.
"Madam, would you like a fresh pot of tea?" the butler asked softly.
She shook her head. The last time the house was this lively was when Chu Yun was still alive, when the family enjoyed osmanthus blossoms and tea in this courtyard.
The laughter upstairs was in full swing. Chu Li's playful antics, mixed with Xie Tang's clear laughter, passed through the carved window lattice and startled the orange cat that was dozing under the eaves.
But this liveliness is like an illusion. Once Xie Tang leaves with Chu Song and the younger generation returns to their respective homes, this house will revert to its original state—beautiful yet silent, devoid of life.
Only she and the old man remain trapped in this exquisite prison.
Isn't it time for her to leave?
But where can she go?
She was a daughter, a wife, and a mother for the first half of her life, but never herself.
Now that I've shed these titles, it feels like my skeleton has been removed; I don't even have the courage to step out the door.
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Since returning from the Chu family's old residence, Xie Tang's schedule has been anything but relaxed.
The trial in Hangzhou had just ended, and the person had already flown to Guangdong to prepare for the trial the following day.
The flight was delayed by two hours. When she finally arrived at her hotel with her suitcase, the receptionist was yawning and telling her, "Your room will only be held until 8 p.m.
Hotels in Guangdong are in such high demand that it's almost unbearable, with Qixi Festival approaching.
Xie Tang rubbed her temples on the leather sofa, her tired eyes illuminated by the reflection of her phone screen.
All the nearby star-rated hotels are fully booked, and the nearest vacant room is 20 kilometers away.
This means she has to get up very early tomorrow.
Just as she was swiping through the ride-hailing app, a sudden commotion erupted through the revolving door.
Chu Song entered the lobby surrounded by a crowd of people, his well-tailored suit highlighting his broad shoulders and narrow waist.
His face was handsome to the point of being aggressive, like a sharp blade drawn from its sheath, yet it also had amorous eyes and a small mole on the tip of his nose, adding a touch of charm.
The beauty came so fiercely that it made her chest tremble.
"Miss, do you need any help?" The doorman's voice startled her.
Xie Tang shook his head, dragged his suitcase, turned around, and disappeared into the revolving door.
The reflection in the glass grew farther and farther away, eventually shattering into hundreds of shimmering spots of light.
As Fu Xiu strode over, she was stuffing a power bank into the side pocket of her suitcase. "Attorney Xie, Mr. Chu, please wait a moment."
Five minutes later, the phone lit up, and a familiar voice came through the receiver, with a hint of helpless laughter: "Come on up, 2208."
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Chu Song's luxury suite is a full 140 square meters, with the living room connected to the open kitchen. Warm yellow lighting creates a cozy, homey atmosphere.
He had just returned from the summit when he opened the door and saw Xie Tang curled up asleep on the sofa, with documents scattered like snow on the coffee table.
Fu Xiu was about to follow him in when Chu Song blocked him at the door with his arm, saying, "Go back to your own room."
"No, I specially ordered a lot of dishes, everyone—" Fu Xiu was pushed out the door by Chu Song before he could finish speaking. "Wait here."
The door clicked shut.
Chu Song walked to the sofa and bent down to call Xie Tang twice.
She was sleeping very soundly, her breathing long and even, as if she hadn't slept in a long time.
He reached out and pinched the tip of her nose; the skin beneath his fingertips was warm and soft.
Xie Tang suddenly found it hard to breathe, and opened her eyes groggily, only to meet Chu Song's lowered gaze.
She was still in a daze, her voice slurred: "...Let me sleep for five more minutes..."
"Get up and eat."
She mumbled an "Mmm" and turned to drift back into her dream.
Chu Song raised an eyebrow, about to pinch her nose again, when Xie Tang suddenly sat up with a start.
Caught off guard, her lips almost brushed against his chin.
The two froze simultaneously.
As their breathing mingled, Xie Tang's still sleepy eyes gradually cleared, while Chu Song's gaze deepened.
The air seemed to freeze, with only the faint sound of cars outside the window and the sudden, rapid beating of my own heart.
A knocking sound suddenly rang out, and Fu Xiu shouted against the door, "Chu Song, if you don't open the door, the food will get cold!"
Xie Tang's ears burned, and she hurriedly leaned back. Chu Song got up to open the door, "Is this a death knell?"
Fu Xiu nearly bumped into the room carrying two boxes of crayfish, while a waiter pushing a food cart behind him was placing West Lake Fish in Vinegar Sauce on the table.
"Lu Xie is awake?" Fu Xiu's eyes lit up. "I specially ordered Kung Pao Chicken for you, come and eat!"
When he was investigating Xie Tang's background, he found out all her preferences.
Xie Tang chuckled as she gathered the scattered documents: "Okay."
In the distance, Chu Song was using silver chopsticks to separate the ginger shreds from the jade shrimp, his slender fingers tapping softly on the rim of the bone china bowl.
A pansy-shaped chilled sashimi boat sat in the center of the table. Fu Xiu magically pulled three cans of beer from the liquor cabinet: "German dark beer, perfect with spicy hot pot."
“I won’t drink, and neither will she,” Chu Song suddenly said.
Xie Tang paused for a moment as he took the aluminum can.
Fu Xiu twirled the half-full beer glass in his hand, the amber liquid creating dense trails of foam on the glass. "Our CEO Chu only drinks single malt whiskey, he dislikes beer..."
Before he could finish speaking, he was cut off by a sharp look.
Xie Tang stared at the plate of bright red, glistening crayfish, her throat involuntarily bobbing.
The moment my fingertips touched the shrimp shell, I pulled them back—peeling it would leave my hands greasy and splattered all over my shirt.
Chu Song's gaze swept over Xie Tang's withdrawn hand.
He slowly tore open the disposable gloves, and the crisp sound of the taut plastic film made Fu Xiu turn his head.
When Chu Song pushed the snow-white plate over, Xie Tang looked flattered, as if the plate contained not shrimp but dynamite.
Fu Xiu was stunned, his jaw dropping as he stared at the pile of shrimp meat soaked in amber sauce.
Is this still the Chu Song he knows?
He has known Chu Song for almost ten years!
This person, who finds peeling shrimp troublesome and simply refuses to eat any, has now peeled a whole plate of shrimp for Xie Tang.
He stared intently at Chu Song's eyes and brows, a huge question mark churning in his mind: Was he... serious?
Chu Song noticed the scrutinizing gaze he was receiving. "What?"
He dragged out his words, as if ordering a steak, "Could you peel one for me too?"
Chu Song paused in taking off his gloves, the plastic film making a soft rustling sound, but he didn't even lift his eyelids: "Eat quickly."
As soon as he finished speaking, Fu Xiu raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, yet a smile still lingered on his lips: "Okay, okay—"
He drew out his words and casually snatched the untouched glass of whiskey from Chu Song's hand.
Xie Tang looked at the plate of shrimp, wanting to eat but hesitant to take a bite.
Chu Song peeled shrimp for her, but she couldn't accept it.
"Aren't you going to eat?" Fu Xiu suddenly leaned forward, the tip of his chopsticks already probing towards him. "Then I—"
She almost instinctively reached out to block it, just like a cat guarding its food.
Chu Song was wiping her third finger with her napkin when she heard this. She lifted her eyelids and glanced at Fu Xiu's chopsticks, which were frozen in mid-air.
He folded the napkin and threw it on the table.
Fu Xiu awkwardly withdrew his hand, and Xie Tang's ears belatedly started burning.
After downing three cups of wine, Fu Xiu's brows relaxed, and he became talkative: "What are the specifics of your case that's going to trial tomorrow?"
Xie Tang succinctly stated: "Fake divorce, real aim: to seize the house."
After recounting Qin Fang's ordeal in a few words, Fu Xiu laughed out loud: "Interesting."
He took off his gloves, which were stained with red oil, and said, "But would Qin Fang dare to admit that it was a 'fake divorce'? The court loves to play dumb."
"No need," Xie Tang shook her head, her eyes clear. "Just insist that the property division clause in the divorce agreement violates your true intentions—"
"From this perspective, the odds are fifty-fifty, and it all depends on the judge's discretion."
Chu Song sat on the sofa, his gaze sweeping over the small mountain of shrimp shells piled up in front of the two of them.
This scene seemed familiar—years ago, Fu Xiu had used the same case to provoke Chu Yun.
He didn't say a word the whole time, his eyes filled with displeasure as he stared at Xie Tang before getting up and going back to his room.
Xie Tang's gaze followed the departing figure. Why did he look unhappy?
“He does this every year around this time.” Fu Xiu leaned forward, took out his phone, and pushed it over.
As Xie Tang scanned the QR code, she heard a dull thud as the master bedroom door slammed shut.
"Why?"
Fu Xiu didn't say much. He called the hotel staff to come up and clean up, said goodnight, and went back to his room.
As the alcohol slowly ferments in the blood vessels, the phone suddenly vibrates in the palm of your hand.
The dozen or so green voice messages looked like a UFO train; she didn't have the patience to listen to such long messages.
The first text message made her clutch her pillow tightly:
The anniversary of Chu Yun's death is approaching...
The light leaking through the crack in the master bedroom door was cut off by a shadow.
Xie Tang saw Chu Song standing by the door and said, "You can't hold your liquor, yet you drank so much? Go take a shower."
"Okay." Xie Tang was a beat slow to react and slowly got up.
Chu Song watched her swaying figure, his Adam's apple bobbing.
When a blurry figure appeared in the frosted glass, he suddenly turned and walked to the coffee table, dialing the front desk.
"Bring up a bowl of hangover soup."
His voice was colder than the sound of water in the bathroom: "Add honey."
A note from the author:
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Oh my god, I clearly updated 3,000 words on the 15th, why did all the little red flowers disappear? Were they deleted? *crying* o(╥﹏╥)o
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