043 | (Forty-two) Biting the bait
Bombarded with a barrage of questions until she was seeing stars, Xie Qingyan wanted to blurt out, "Is it any of your business?" But the words lingered on her lips for a moment before she thought, "Does Su Xingmao really know all about my whereabouts? How does he even know I'm hiding in the art room?"
The moment his thoughts were interrupted, his words came to a halt, leaving him speechless in the eyes of Su Xingmao.
He glanced around and found a clean cloth in the pile of art supplies. He grabbed it, placed it on her table, and then pushed Xie Qingyan against the table leg.
Xie Qingyan felt a sudden darkness before his eyes, and the lining fabric swayed wildly in front of him.
Having found her way a little, she pressed her hand against his chest and backed away, her waist almost hitting the corner of the table and chair, but Su Xingmao cushioned her fall with his hand.
Quick reflexes and proper prevention are key.
There was no pain as expected. Xie Qingyan felt a dull numbness as her spine hit the taut muscles of her arm. She paused for only half a second, then straightened up, glanced back, moved her waist away from his hand, and retorted, "It's my freedom to play with whomever I want. You have no right to interfere."
"Is that so?" His tone remained as indifferent as if he were drinking water.
The boy's broad frame easily enveloped her in shadow, his gaze sweeping over her from above. Like an invisible ribbon or a thick fog, it circled her neck, round and round, tightening and clinging to her body.
Xie Qingyan's breathing stopped, as if someone was choking him.
Two fingers rubbed my lips, their rough fingertips rubbing with great force, making my soft lips red and sore.
She tried to turn her head away, but a leg was placed across her face, and a hand was raised to pin her jaw, trapping her firmly between his tall figure, forcing her to look at his frozen, expressionless face.
The frozen stone was icy cold.
He seems angry… Xie Qingyan guessed.
However, it is uncertain whether the constellation Mao (卯) will show its emotions outwardly, even when it is angry, it is suppressed.
Beneath the boiling water, there is no ripple.
Her heart raced, a sense of tension rising within her, mixed with a vague feeling of excitement, as if her blood was rushing to her cheeks.
His fingers gripped the broken pieces of wood on the edge of the table, his eyes drooping in a disheveled state.
The constellation was extremely close, and its breath felt like dense needles rolling over a fire, warm and hot, yet also sharp and painful, constantly pricking her skin.
They're definitely going to be famous.
She could feel the temperature on her face gradually rising.
"What if I insist on interfering?"
What kind of mentality was at play? Seeing that he seemed about to get angry, she threw in more firewood, fanning the flames with her words, hoping the fire would burn even brighter so that...
What? My thoughts were put on pause.
But he couldn't stop talking; the words had already left his mouth.
Xie Qingyan's gaze was almost defiant, his chin held high with arrogance, his eyes narrowed, showing that he didn't take him seriously at all: "You have no right to tell me what to do!"
Upon hearing this, Su Xingmao's face turned ashen, like a gloomy, overcast day about to rain, as if someone had painted a layer of cold, gloomy color on it.
The sky outside the window darkened, as if it too were about to weep.
Slender fingers slid from her face to her neck, resting coolly on her pulsating heartbeat.
Her heartbeat was already out of control, yet she still managed to put on a stubborn act that showed no fear of anything.
Su Xingmao scoffed lightly.
He wasn't stupid; he was certain that Xie Qingyan was trying to provoke him, as if she wanted to see him lose his composure or become completely disoriented because of her words.
He shouldn't have taken the bait.
But it is precisely because of her recklessness, foolishness, ignorance, and fearlessness that she is able to grasp his weak points. With just a few words, she can strike at his most painful spot, something he knows perfectly well.
She did it on purpose.
He also had to let the bait hook pierce his mouth, the rusty hook getting stuck in his throat, scraping against his flesh, the wound dripping with bitter pus, which he swallowed raw, dry, and spit into his heart.
A string was about to break, and his reason became dull and rusty, his fingers tightening.
A hand grabbed Xie Qingyan's shoulder and shoved her against the table and chair. With almost violent force, he pulled down her blue school pants. Through her underwear, his fingers could feel an unbelievable dampness. He pinched her clitoris and asked calmly.
"If I fuck you here, what does it matter to us?"
His words were concise and to the point, his fingers tightening around her neck as his hand gripped her tightly: "Xie Qingyan."
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