Chapter 180 He Doesn't Want You Anymore
Mo Huaizhi's face suddenly darkened, his eyes narrowed, and his expression turned cold.
He turned to the waiter blocking his way, his tone leaving no room for argument: "My friend is in a hurry, let him through."
The waiter glanced at Song Zhiwei's flustered face, then at Mo Huaizhi's unyielding expression, hesitated for a moment, and ultimately didn't dare to ask any more questions. He silently raised his hand and gestured for her to come in.
Song Zhiwei didn't linger and rushed into the hall as if she were bursting through the air.
Her gaze swept quickly across the surroundings like a searchlight, passing over the elegantly dressed, bustling crowd, and finally locking onto the direction of the elevator.
She took off running, her high heels clicking rapidly on the marble floor like drumbeats.
Mo Huaizhi quickly caught up, pressing him as he went, "What exactly happened? Explain yourself! What happened to Sheng Tingzhou? Why is he here?"
She shook her head, her breathing rapid, her chest heaving, her hair soaked with sweat and clinging to her cheeks: "I...I don't really know either. I just got an anonymous call saying he had an accident in 301 and told me to come quickly...I'm afraid...there are other people inside, the door is locked from the inside, I can't get in..."
Mo Huaizhi frowned, but didn't ask any further questions. Without saying a word, he took out his phone, quickly dialed a number, and said in a calm but urgent tone, "Front desk, room key for 301, bring it up immediately, now!"
—
Finally, we arrived at the third floor. The corridor was dimly lit, and the air was filled with a faint scent of perfume mixed with the air conditioning.
Song Zhiwei stood in front of room 301, her heart pounding in her throat.
She raised her foot and kicked the heavy door with all her might. The wooden door made a loud "bang," which seemed to make the corridor lights flicker.
Her voice trembled as she cried out, "Sheng Tingzhou! Are you inside?! Answer me! Sheng Tingzhou!"
After Chen Yun finished showering, water droplets slid slowly down her smooth shoulders and dripped onto the floor, making a soft sound.
She grabbed a snow-white bath towel and wrapped it tightly around her wet body, her hair still dripping wet and clinging to her neck.
She stepped out of the bathroom in soft slippers, her steps light, like a cat poised to pounce.
Just as she was thinking of rushing to the man on the bed with his eyes closed, to feel the warmth of his body, there was a sudden, urgent, and sharp knocking on the door.
It's Song Zhiwei.
Chen Yun's pupils suddenly contracted, and her heart skipped a beat, as if she had been doused with ice water from head to toe.
Her mind went blank, and only one thought flashed through her mind—how did she get here?
Shouldn't she be waiting in the banquet hall to offer toasts?
How did she find us so quickly?
After a few seconds of silence, she quickly calmed down, her fingers trembling as she pulled her phone from her wet pocket. Her fingertips swiped across the screen, and she dialed a number. Her voice was extremely low but unusually firm: "Immediately, have all the guests go up to the third floor. Now, right now, not a minute later."
A brief "Okay" came from the other end of the phone, and then the call ended.
She slowly put down her phone, took a deep breath, and her gaze fell on the man on the bed who still had his eyes closed.
She slowly untied the bath towel, letting it slide silently to the ground.
Barefoot, she walked step by step to the bedside, her footsteps so light they were almost inaudible, like a silent hunt.
Sheng Tingzhou noticed her approach and suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze sharp as a knife.
He gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his neck, his voice hoarse and cold, filled with bone-chilling hatred: "Chen Yun... if you dare touch me, I'll make you regret being born. Believe me or not, I'll personally wipe you off this world."
Chen Yun stood by the bed, looking down at him with an almost sickly smile on her lips.
She leaned closer, her lips almost touching his earlobe, and whispered, yet every word was like a knife: "So what? Sheng Tingzhou, even if you hate me to the bone, even if you swear to kill me... at least... I can sleep with you. You can't escape, you can't escape tonight."
——
Outside the door, Song Zhiwei's palms were already red from clapping, and blood was even seeping from the edges of her nails.
She pounded on the door repeatedly, her voice hysterical: "Open the door! Chen Yun! I know you're in there! Open the door!"
At the end of the corridor, the manager heard the commotion and rushed over.
Upon seeing Mo Huaizhi standing at the door, his expression changed drastically. He hurriedly pulled out his room card from his uniform pocket, his hand trembling so much that he could barely aim it at the keyhole.
With a "whoosh," the door lock opened.
The door had barely opened a crack when Song Zhiwei burst inside, like a wild beast out of control.
The next second, she froze on the spot.
The scene before her was like an ice pick, piercing her heart—on the bed, Chen Yun's skin glistened with moisture, like a coiled snake.
Sheng Tingzhou also had a cold expression, but he was clearly bound to the headboard.
Song Zhiwei's face turned deathly pale instantly, her lips trembled slightly, and her pupils blazed with fury.
She rushed forward and, with a forceful tug, dragged Chen Yun off the bed.
"Smack!"
A crisp, loud slap landed on Chen Yun's face, the force of which caused her to fall to the ground, her cheek instantly swelling and turning red.
Song Zhiwei's palms burned with pain, but she was completely unaware of it. Her chest heaved violently as she held her breath for too long, and finally, it exploded.
"You dare touch my boyfriend?! You bitch! Are you tired of living?! Do you even know who he is? He's my fiancé! How dare you—how dare you insult me like this?!"
Chen Yun fell to the ground, her ears ringing and her vision going black.
She was stunned for two seconds before she came to her senses. The burning pain on her face made it almost impossible for her to breathe.
She cursed through gritted teeth in her heart: Zhou Yuze is such a useless piece of trash. He can't even keep track of a woman's whereabouts. He couldn't even hold Song Zhiwei back for ten minutes!
She looked down at her disheveled appearance, her hair in disarray, the blanket slipped to her feet like a discarded rag.
Humiliation and anger surged within her, and hatred almost consumed her.
She dug her nails deep into her palms, but didn't utter a sound.
Song Zhiwei grabbed the thick quilt from the bed and threw it hard at Chen Yun.
Then, she straddled Chen Yun, pressing her knees down on Chen Yun's arms, grabbing her shoulders with both hands, and slapped her again and again without any mercy.
"I'll teach you to touch him! I'll teach you to be shameless! I'll teach you to be despicable!"
Each slap was filled with blood and tears of anger, making Chen Yun's face more and more swollen, with blood seeping from the corner of her mouth.
Her palms were already red and even chafed, but she just couldn't stop.
That was not just a physical outburst, but a frantic counterattack after one's dignity had been trampled upon.
Chen Yun finally couldn't hold back anymore, tears mixed with blood streaming down her face. As she cried, she screamed, "Are you crazy! You're a lunatic! Sheng Tingzhou abandoned you a long time ago! What right do you have to point fingers at me like that!"
Song Zhiwei gritted her teeth, her eyes bloodshot, and her nails dug deep into Chen Yun's shoulder, leaving bloody marks.
She pinned her down, giving her no chance to turn over, each word a accusation crawling out of hell: "He is mine, and he will always be mine. You can't take him away, and you can't sleep with him. Today, I'll show you what it means to wish you were dead."
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