Chapter 48 [VIP]
Han Shu quickly covered his mouth.
Oh no, what did she just say??
Who says "I love you" on the third day of a relationship?!
Wen Zhiyu raised his head, his dark eyes unsettling.
Han Shu suddenly became nervous, stammering, "No, I, I—"
A sudden, irresistible force struck her lower back, and she spun around, falling into a hard, solid embrace. In a panic, she grabbed the stair railing; the wooden frame creaked, breaking the silence of the night and stirring ripples in her heart.
Wen Zhiyu's large hand gently stroked her cheeks, which were puffed up from holding her breath. The touch was as light as a feather, and then he forcefully grabbed her chin and kissed her aggressively. Han Shu's eyes widened suddenly. The breath on his cheek, his lowered eyelashes, and the domineering attack between his lips stimulated her five senses, making her weak and almost slip off the man's lap.
The arm that ran across her waist tightened, instantly balancing her entire body and cutting off her escape route. She tilted her head back, retreating step by step amidst her increasingly erratic breathing, yet inching forward again.
As the initial frenzy subsided, Wen Zhiyu kissed her taut cheeks, her burning earlobes, and the side of her slender neck.
He said in a hoarse voice, "I'm sorry."
Han Shu blinked, finally realizing their ambiguous position. She hurriedly pulled back from his lap and fell to the ground, her palms touching the soft carpet, her heart pounding like a drum. She felt like she was on fire, too ashamed to lift her head, so she shrank to the corner of the wall, her forehead pressed against it, lost in her own solitude.
Wen Zhiyu felt embarrassed by his impulsiveness. Facing the railing with his back to Han Shu, he abruptly cleared his throat for a while. However… he touched his numb lips, a smile uncontrollably spreading across his face.
Han Shu unconsciously interlaced his fingers, rubbing his two thumbs together. "I didn't say anything, and you didn't hear anything."
There was no response from behind.
"Hey, did you hear that?"
Wen Zhiyu still did not respond.
Han Shu panicked and, no longer wanting to play the ostrich, turned around and said, "Don't pretend—"
A finger pressed against her slightly parted lips.
"Shh," Wen Zhiyu said, "I love you too."
The flames, which had not yet gone out, were fueled and burned fiercely again.
Han Shu was still in the position of raising his hand to grab him, and for a long time he even forgot to blink.
Wen Zhiyu withdrew his hand and chuckled, "You didn't say anything, it was all me who said it."
Han Shu remained frozen in place.
Seeing this, Wen Zhiyu lightly tapped the tip of her nose, mimicking her tone from before, "Did you hear that?"
Han Shu suddenly snapped out of his daze, let out a soft moan, buried his face in his hands, then buried his head between his knees, and said in a muffled voice, "I heard you."
Han Shu curled up in this position, which inexplicably reminded Wen Zhiyu of the little cat that often curled up in a circle on top of the cat tree.
He seemed to understand why humans find cats cute.
Han Shu noticed he was looking at her, so she could only ask in that position, "What's wrong with you today?"
After waiting for a while, Wen Zhiyu said softly, "It was a dream."
Han Shu paused for a moment, then slowly raised his head. "Nightmare."
“A real dream.” Wen Zhiyu’s profile was extremely tense, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Want me to tell you a story?”
Han Shu had a gut feeling that this wouldn't be a happy story, so she took his arm and leaned on his shoulder, saying, "Okay."
This is the story of a little boy.
A home that doesn't feel like a home, a mother who's absent-minded, and a father who only shows up occasionally. Only when the father comes will the mother offer a brief smile. And even that "brief" smile is only fleeting in the moment he sees it, because most of the time she's confined to her room and not allowed to go out.
When her father wasn't around, she always had a tense expression, a cigarette dangling from her lips, and would wave impatiently at him from afar.
Until one day, Mom was lying on the stairs, while Dad was lying on the concrete floor.
“Do you know?” Wen Zhiyu said, “The most ridiculous thing is that my mother didn’t die at the time. She was in the ICU for several days before she passed away. My biological father, on the other hand, jumped off a building and died on the spot because he was afraid of being punished.”
This is an absurd story to the extreme, so absurd that every single detail is unbelievable. After a long pause to process it, Han Shu said, "The question you asked me while lying on the stairs was also true, wasn't it?"
“Yeah.” Wen Zhiyu smiled bitterly. “I fell down the steps and passed out. I was woken up by the sound of police sirens. I got up and ran downstairs. I happened to see the doctor putting my mother on a stretcher. I rushed up to try to stop her, but the police stopped me. I fell down while struggling. I lay there and looked at the ceiling from this perspective for the first time. I happened to see a crack that looked like a spider web.”
"You said before that you wanted to write realistic stories, you meant you wanted to write your own story." Han Shu tightened his arms, his heart aching.
“Hmm.” Wen Zhiyu gave a self-deprecating laugh. “But in this story, I can’t figure out the motives and actions of each of them.”
What happened?
Wen Zhiyu took out his phone, said "Yes," and handed it over.
His pupils contracted slightly. "You are—"
"Hmm." Wen Zhiyu's voice was hoarse, "His... I don't know which mistress's illegitimate child."
Han Shu knew the name Wen Qi.
This incident occurred a long time ago, but it remains a popular topic of conversation among the residents of Beicheng. The fact that he fell to his death is established, but the reasons for the fall are widely debated. Some say he committed suicide out of fear of punishment for embezzlement and bribery; others believe it was a conspiracy to silence him; still others say it was an accident caused by alcohol consumption.
No one could have imagined that the truth was like this.
“My biological father’s wife handled all the funeral arrangements. She paid for all of my mother’s medical expenses and sent me to an orphanage after my mother passed away.” Wen Zhiyu pulled his arm away and instead encircled Han Shu. “But she clearly hated us so much…”
Han Shu leaned against his chest, the man's restless heartbeat ringing in her ears. "You can't choose your birth. You didn't do anything wrong."
“My very existence is a mistake,” Wen Zhiyu said.
"Your birth may have been a mistake." Han Shu looked up and kissed his Adam's apple. "Your existence is not; it is a gift."
Wen Zhiyu was taken aback, lowered his eyes, and looked into a pair of bright eyes full of heartache.
A tear slid down her cheek, crystal clear, concealing the moonlight. Han Shu smiled and said, "You can't choose your birth, but you can choose your life. You were once the little prince of the orphanage, then a talented young writer, and now you're my boyfriend. If you make a mistake, what will happen to your girlfriend?"
Wen Zhiyu was born an island adrift. Before fame, he lived a life of constant wandering, relying on meager relief funds for education or meager royalties for writing. Later, as he became financially secure, he settled on Qiongzhou Island, far from Beicheng, seemingly possessing an indestructible and magnificent house, just like the castle he had imagined when he was four years old, hidden by clouds. Yet, his heart remained as adrift as duckweed, unable to find a place of peace.
But at this moment, the island transforms into a ship, anchoring itself towards home.
Wen Zhiyu kissed the forehead of the person in his arms with utmost solemnity, utmost tenderness, and utmost affection.
But Han Shu cried.
Wen Zhiyu playing on the bouncy pole in the rainy night, Wen Zhiyu paddling a kayak in the puddles, Wen Zhiyu rushing off to play games with duct tape in hand, Wen Zhiyu constantly stealing glances at the eggs... Countless figures overlapped in my tear-blurred vision, then gradually shrank.
He remained that little boy sitting alone in his room playing with building blocks, always hoping that the door would open from the outside, always waiting for someone to hear his silent call.
"Don't cry." Wen Zhiyu kissed her wet face, kissing away the endless tears. "I'm fine now. It's just that seeing the father of the boy who died covering his face and crying today reminded me of the past, which is why I had this dream... Actually, I've long forgotten about it."
"You're lying to me." Han Shu cried even harder. "I really forgot. How could I have persisted in writing this story? You... you always had dark circles under your eyes back then, and you wouldn't sleep until you could write a single word. I thought you had run out of ideas!"
Wen Zhiyu chuckled, "You've run out of ideas? Darling, I just published a new book."
Han Shu rubbed his face with the back of his hand. "Anyway, anyway, you're just lying to me."
Wen Zhiyu sighed softly, "It's really impossible to completely forget it. I still feel sad when I dream about it occasionally. But I really like my life now, that's the truth."
"Yes." Han Shu nodded vigorously. "No matter what, I will definitely be a part of your life. So when you're in a bad mood, you must tell me."
Wen Zhiyu tightened his arms again, a warm current flowing through his body with the rise and fall of the person in his arms' breath. "Okay."
The man and woman on the steps clung tightly to each other. As the cold, pale moonlight was replaced by the warm dawn, the daylight dispelled the darkness, and the misty love dispelled the helplessness of midnight dreams.
Han Shu's consciousness drifted for a moment, then he jerked his head forward and suddenly woke up with a start, "I...I fell asleep?"
Wen Zhiyu squeezed her hand. "Go back to your room and get some sleep."
"Hmm." Han Shu nodded blankly, then stood up in a daze—
He didn't stand up.
Wen Zhiyu pulled her back and glanced at the corner of the stairs on the second floor. "The previous check-in manual stated that guests are not allowed to set foot on the second floor."
The exhaustion from not sleeping all night completely overwhelmed Han Shu's thoughts. She asked blankly, "What's wrong?"
"You're not a tenant anymore."
Wen Zhiyu propped himself up with one hand, then scooped the person up by the back of his knees.
Han Shu quickly wrapped her arms around his shoulders and neck, exclaiming in surprise, "Hey! What are you doing!"
Wen Zhiyu easily carried the over 100-pound weight with one hand and strode up to the second floor. "You are now the mistress of this house, so of course you should sleep in the master bedroom."
Han Shu: !!!
What? Does this mean sleeping together? What happens when we sleep together?
Before she could even process what was happening, the arm around her loosened, and she sank into the soft bed. Instantly, the cool, refreshing scent of the mattress enveloped her.
Wen Zhiyu pulled the blanket over him, wrapping him up like a silkworm cocoon, before retracting his knees from the edge of the bed. "Go to sleep."
Han Shu hid her chin, revealing only her two blinking almond-shaped eyes, "Then, what about you?"
Wen Zhiyu pointed to the sofa next to him, "I'll sleep there."
Han Shu looked over and saw it was a small two-seater sofa, at most 1.5 meters long. Wen Zhiyu was tall and big, so he definitely wouldn't be able to stretch out comfortably.
Seeing Wen Zhiyu pick up the pillow, she reached out her arm and grabbed his wrist.
"You...you come with me." She pursed her lips and whispered.
Wen Zhiyu was stunned, unable to believe his ears. "What?"
Han Shu, emboldened by some unknown source, first moved to the other side of the bed, then, as he lay back, he exerted force with his arms—
Wen Zhiyu lay down beside her without any warning.
Their eyes met, and Han Shu blushed so much that her eyelids turned red, but she still forced herself to pretend that she didn't care. "The sofa is uncomfortable, let's sit together."
Wen Zhiyu, smelling the fragrance in her hair, stiffened completely. "Then I'll go to the guest room next door."
"You are also the owner of the house, and you should sleep in the master bedroom too."
Han Shu unfolded the quilt, covering half of it over Wen Zhiyu, then placed it on his chest and remained still.
At this moment, along with joy and shyness, there was also a faint sense of worry and confusion.
North City, North City.
What does the future hold for her and him?
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