Chapter 12 More Than Desire... An Old Friend You Can't Avoid
Wen Zhiling tore open the instant noodle lid, bit the fork in her mouth, and watched the water in the kettle boil, bubbling and gurgling. She opened the seasoning packet and poured it into the cup noodles, the hot water stopping at the standard line.
The kitchen ceiling light was warm, making her black hair look slightly orange. Her hair was wet and hadn't been dried properly. She had casually tied it into a bun, and a few strands of hair clung to the back of her fair neck. Tiny water droplets slid into her nightgown. She straightened herself up and touched a wet patch on her back.
A slight pain throbbed in her lower back, and the hot water stung and itched when she touched it. At first, she thought it was because Zong Linhan had resisted her during the blood-sucking incident and retaliated by beating her. So she stopped showering, angrily grabbed the showerhead, and looked at herself in the mirror. The person in the mirror was turned to the side, with marks on her waist—finger marks, as if she had lost control and couldn't restrain herself from pinching her skin.
The sound of water in the bathroom stopped. Wen Zhiling looked outside and saw that the living room was pitch black without the lights on. The boxes that had been packed had been violently torn open, and clutter was piled up all over the floor. Tape was spread out next to the chair legs by the bathroom door.
With a click, the bathroom door opened, and Wen Zhiling quickly looked down, poking at the still-soft pancake with her chopsticks. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a hand reach out and take the change of clothes from the chair inside, and then the door closed again.
Sigh. Wen Zhiling put the instant noodles back on the table and watched the hot water slowly boil over the noodle cake through a corner of the cup. After a long time, no aroma of seasoning wafted out, and the sweet smell of citrus still lingered in her nostrils.
She recalled what had happened half an hour earlier. She had pounced on Zong Linhan, and he had held her in his arms, letting her mark him. The skin on his neck was easy to bite, smooth and soft. His sharp teeth pierced through it like biting into soft dough, releasing citrus juice that was sweet and delicious. But what she felt most directly was his physical reaction. The arms around his waist were strong, his chest was hard against hers, and his abdominal muscles tensed for a moment, trembling as if from excitement. His inability to resist her gave Wen Zhiling a strong sense of control and security… After all, if it were a hair-pulling fight, she definitely couldn't beat him.
"Whose clothes are these? How come you have men's clothes?"
A cold, indifferent voice came from the side, containing undisguised disdain. Zong Linhan leaned against the door, his lean upper body bare, wearing only jeans. He clutched a white T-shirt in his hand, which Wen Zhiling had placed on the chair. His original clothes were splattered with blood, just like those retrieved from a crime scene, and had to be thrown away.
Wen Zhiling glanced at him, then looked away, took the cup noodles back, and poked the half-soft pancake. "Qiao Yan's."
Zong Linhan: "That guy from last time?"
Wen Zhiling: "Yeah, last time he came to my house to fix my computer, it rained on the way and he got soaked. I went to the supermarket and bought him some clothes, but after I dried them, I forgot to bring them to him."
Zong Lin sneered, "Ex-girlfriend, you're really something, giving me other men's clothes to wear."
“It’s very clean after washing, and you weren’t wearing anything.” Wen Zhiling looked him up and down. “Being naked in someone else’s house, shameless.”
“Little friend, this is called half-naked.” As soon as Wen Zhiling mentioned it, he got excited. His slender fingers rested on the edge of his pants waistband, pretending to pull them down, actually explaining the difference between half-naked and fully naked. His fingertips slowly moved down, revealing the edge of his underwear, with the embroidered gold logo letters faintly visible.
"Please." Wen Zhiling took out her phone, switched to photo mode, and faced the person's erotic performance directly. Zong Linhan clicked his tongue and uninterestedly turned the camera away.
The clock struck nine. Steam rose from the instant noodles. Zong Linhan brushed away the pungent tomato smell, his brows furrowed so deeply they could snap the noodles in two.
"What grudge do you have against tomatoes? You hate tomatoes, tomato juice, and even tomato-flavored instant noodles." Wen Zhiling handed over the instant noodles, noticing that the label said tomato flavor. "Don't worry, it's not tomato. Want a bite?"
"Do you think I'm stupid?" Zong Linhan used a sofa cushion to block Wen Zhiling's hand, his expression one of disgust. "Just because you changed your name doesn't mean I won't recognize you?"
Wen Zhiling said regretfully, "Then you can go hungry."
Humans are born with a desire to share, yearning to share their favorite movies, music, and food with others. Some people can't share, at most secretly cursing the other person for having no taste. Others, unable to share, rack their brains and scheme, going to any lengths to promote their products.
Seeing that her feigned indifference was ineffective, Wen Zhiling retreated to advance: "Then I'll make you a soup without the seasoning packet. You should eat some; your lips are turning pale."
Wen Zhiling stood up, but Zong Linhan grabbed her wrist to prevent her from leaving. Her eyes darted around, and he knew exactly what she wanted. He'd been forced to eat things by her countless times before—wasabi-flavored potato chips, raspberry-flavored cola, sea salt-flavored cake—she insisted he appreciate whatever she liked. If it weren't for his excellent acting skills, their relationship would have broken down countless times. Tomatoes, a crucial territory Wen Zhiling hadn't been able to conquer, once again rekindled her competitive spirit.
Zong Linhan rested his forehead on his hand and looked up at her. "I didn't say I wouldn't eat."
Wen Zhiling pushed the instant noodles in front of him, but Zong Linhan didn't move. He looked at her and said, "My hand is broken."
Wen Zhiling: "..."
Wen Zhiling hesitated for a moment, then used a fork to twirl the instant noodles. The soft noodles rolled twice on the fork, and the tomato-flavored sauce dripped back into the cup.
Feeding someone is an intimate act, like an interaction between lovers, which doesn't quite match the ex-girlfriend and the ex-boyfriend who pretended to have lost a hand.
Wen Zhiling placed the fork back on the rim of the cup. Zong Linhan raised his eyelashes slightly, but his expression remained unchanged, as if he had expected this scene.
“Zong Linhan, your Bureau of Extraordinary Investigations should have written in its files that marked people develop a strong emotional dependence on the marked person.” Wen Zhiling took a bite of instant noodles. “Just like a fledgling bird’s dependence on the first person it sees, this strong emotion has nothing to do with who the other person is. It’s just because the other person happened to be in that position at that time.”
“I always thought that I was marking you unconsciously during our relationship. Later, someone told me that I had been marking you for a long time, and then I realized that when you fainted at my doorstep in the beginning, it might not have been your choice, although I don’t remember much about what happened that day.”
Wen Zhiling's memories are fragmented. She remembers her parents and childhood, but not how she became a little monster. She remembers the two families she stayed with and how she left in a sorry state, but she doesn't remember if Zong Linhan was knocked unconscious and dragged to the door by her. She now strongly suspects that he was just unlucky enough to run into the hungry little monster and become its prey.
Zong Linhan said calmly, "You don't believe my feelings, and you think that my concern for you comes from the irresistible force of the mark."
Wen Zhiling looked up. "Can you say no?"
Zong Linhan curved his lips into a smile. "No."
He observed her expression, seemingly quite interested. Wen Zhiling curled up her hands hidden under the table, but her face didn't show any inappropriate expression as she calmly ate two bites of instant noodles.
Only when she spoke those words did Wen Zhiling realize that her decision to leave three years ago might have been because she cared deeply about this mark; without it, he wouldn't have given her a second glance.
Humans are strange creatures. To protect their fragile self-esteem and avoid the possibility of being abandoned, they will eagerly pack their bags and jump on trains, no matter where they are going, thinking only of getting as far away as possible, even if they know in their hearts that some choices are poisoned daggers that will hurt themselves and others.
Zong Linhan: "Are you heartbroken?"
Wen Zhiling sighed, glancing at the bandage on his neck. "What's there to be sad about? Well, now you'll never know the answer again."
The answer should have been available after three years.
Wen Zhiling: "What's the procedure after that? Will I be taken away by the Bureau of Extraordinary Investigations and taken into the air under official physical purification? Or will I be treated as an important extinct and revived species, and an armored vehicle will come and take me to the research lab, where you'll be my blood bag until the research is over?"
She imagined the Bureau of Paranormal Investigations' laboratory, a blinding white light shining down from above. She struggled to turn her face away, and heard a man's voice, soothingly calling her name. Wen Zhiling shook her head, the fragmented images sinking back to the bottom of her memory.
A note from the author:
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Hmm, writing about emotional dependence reminded me of Xiao Zhan next door. Xiao Zong and Xiao Zhan are a different story – one is overtly flirtatious, the other is covertly flirtatious. But Xiao Zong has been living the high life lately, poor Wen…
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