Feeling somewhat annoyed, he took his cigarette case, went out onto the balcony, and leaned against the railing to smoke.
He still had the same obsessive-compulsive disorder, only taking three puffs of each cigarette, but by the time he realized what he was doing, he had already finished a whole pack of cigarettes.
A stack of cigarette butts in the ashtray.
Rong Zhaonan closed his eyes briefly, then let out a self-deprecating scoff: "Tsk..."
This kind of self-deception is just like what I've been doing these past few days.
He stubbed out his last cigarette. He decided to quit smoking altogether; she didn't like it.
Rong Zhaonan turned and went into the room, only to find that there was no one on the bed, but there was the sound of water coming from the bathroom.
There were two slippers on the ground, along with clothes that had been left behind.
He frowned and immediately headed towards the bathroom. She was drunk and confused; how could she go to take a shower?!
The more you evaporate the alcohol, the more intoxicating it will become!
"Ning Yuan, stop washing! You'll slip and break your leg!" He opened the bathroom door.
Amidst the swirling smoke, a slender, snow-white figure could be seen standing under the showerhead. Hearing the door open, she didn't turn around, but instead stretched out her two hands to scratch her hair while washing it.
The sudden glimpse of her delicate, soft skin made Rong Zhaonan gasp for breath, and he instinctively looked away.
Once they arrived in the capital, they didn't do it.
The scene was too stimulating for him, especially since he was at such a young and vigorous age.
But out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ning Yuan had haphazardly washed her hair, leaving it covered in bubbles. She hadn't even taken the hair tie off, and her hair was tangled and knotted.
As she washed her hair, she scrunched up her face and struggled to pull it out, making herself wince in pain, all the while yelling, "Get out! Get out!"
I don't know if she's lucid or confused.
Rong Zhaonan took a deep breath, suppressing his agitation. Ignoring whether the water would get his clothes wet, he went straight in and grabbed her two scratching hands: "Stop scratching."
Ning Yuan was held down by him, and struggled a few times in annoyance and frustration: "Let go!"
Rong Zhaonan used a clever trick to hold down one of her hands.
Ning Yuan reached out and pushed him, her voice muffled: "No need! Go...get out..."
Rong Zhaonan pressed down on her snow-white back and said patiently, "Don't move, I think you want to go bald!"
As he spoke, he took out a knife with his other hand and deftly pried open the tightly tangled rubber band.
Ning Yuan struggled but couldn't break free. She was both sleepy and hot, and the heat made her dizzy.
She felt as if a huge tree was pressing down on her.
She stopped struggling and leaned against him, closing her eyes and remaining still: "Rong Zhaonan...you...are really annoying."
Rong Zhaonan reached out and ran his hand through her hair, slowly untangling it: "I know."
Ning Yuan buried her face in his chest and mumbled sleepily, "I wish I could stop liking you... but..."
She suddenly pointed to her heart: "But... I still like you, and that's really annoying... Can't I stop liking you...?"
She speaks incoherently.
But Rong Zhaonan paused, his hand holding the showerhead clenching tightly.
He took a deep breath, slowly rinsed her hair with soap, and said in a hoarse voice, "No!"
Perhaps it was because the water was warm, or perhaps Ning Yuan was intoxicated by the alcohol, but she leaned against him, muttering something unintelligible, and slowly stopped talking altogether.
Rong Zhaonan carefully washed her hair and body, then took a large towel, wrapped the petite woman in it, and carried her out.
He placed the drunken Ning Yuan on the bed and then went to take a ten-minute cold shower.
He also took the opportunity to wash away the pent-up frustration he had generated while bathing Ning Yuan.
After taking a shower, Rong Zhaonan first opened the window to let the night breeze in, and then lit mosquito coils in the room.
Finally, he sat down on the bed, let Ning Yuan rest her head on his lap, and took another large towel to dry her hair.
Ning Yuan had been asleep, hugging her pillow, but being woken up and, combined with the effects of alcohol, she irritably patted his hand with her eyes closed, muttering—
"Minglang...don't pull my hair...I...want to sleep, we have to get more stock tomorrow..."
Rong Zhaonan's hands froze, a feeling of suffocation rising in his heart, yet he had nowhere to vent it.
Is this how she felt when she heard him mention Ye Dong?
He took a deep breath, his expression complicated, and pressed a towel against her long, curly hair. He said calmly, "I'm not Ou Minglang. If your hair isn't dry, you'll have a headache tomorrow. Be careful you don't end up in the hospital getting a shot."
Perhaps the word "hospital" suddenly brought Ning Yuan to her senses.
She suddenly opened her eyes, staring blankly for a long while, as if recognizing him: "Rong Zhaonan..."
Ning Yuan closed her eyes, suddenly hugged her pillow, turned her head away, and murmured, "I must have seen wrong... Ye Dong is in the hospital... I'm going boating... Don't be angry... Be magnanimous... Don't fall for their tricks..."
As she spoke, she grew sleepy and gradually fell silent.
Rong Zhaonan didn't fully understand those incoherent words, but he could grasp the general idea.
Looking at the girl curled up in a ball next to him, clutching a pillow, a hint of guilt flashed in his cool, deep eyes.
He suddenly remembered what Peng Qianjin had said earlier that day—"The one who feels most wronged is my sister-in-law; she's done more than enough."
“Ning Yuan, you don’t need to be magnanimous and dignified. You should be angry with me. These are my debts, not yours.”
Rong Zhaonan closed his eyes and gently hugged her, pillow and all.
The girl in his arms was asleep and did not respond.
Rong Zhaonan didn't speak, but slowed down his movements, gently propped himself up, and continued to use a towel to dry her hair strand by strand.
A gentle night breeze blew in through the window, ruffling Ning Yuan's long, seaweed-like hair that was spread out on the bed.
The scent of her shower gel, her soft breathing, and the distinctive smell of mosquito coils burning slowly created a unique and peaceful atmosphere on a summer night.
Rong Zhaonan felt increasingly irritable, anxious, and depressed since entering the capital. His suffocating heart was slowly soothed by this atmosphere.
Half an hour later, he ran his fingertips through the sleeping girl's long hair to make sure it was dry, then said softly with a self-deprecating laugh—
“I resent his heartlessness and cruelty, which caused his wife to suffer so much, but my ‘kindness and loyalty’ has caused you so much suffering. I really am his son… It’s absurd, isn’t it?”
Rong Zhaonan raised his head, looked out the window, and muttered to himself softly—
"I really dislike the capital city. Every time I step into it, I'm reminded of how I went from being an ignorant and useless thirteen-year-old Zhou Zhaonan to the fearsome Rong Taisui on the battlefield at the age of twenty..."
He gave a self-deprecating smile: "But even if you are covered in blood and gore, the things you have gained through life and death—family, comrades, pride, dignity, honor, and even faith—can still be trampled and crushed at will, and then shattered."
He paused: "It's like no matter how hard you try, you're still that thirteen-year-old trapped in the same place, a powerless piece of trash and a caged beast... A person's greatest enemy has always been themselves."
The moonlight outside the window was serene, with only the chirping of insects and no one responding.
He put down the towel and said calmly, "In this huge, ancient city, it seems that the more you care about something, the less likely you are to keep it or hold onto it..."
He turned his head, looked at her sleeping profile, and placed the antique velvet box next to her pillow.
Rong Zhaonan gently embraced her slender waist and closed his eyes: "But this time, I want to... protect you!"
Moonlight streamed through the window, the night breeze carried the damp scent of plants, and the clock ticked slowly past midnight.
The girl, who should have been fast asleep on the bed, seemed to have a faint glimmer of tears in the corner of her eyes.
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