Chapter 44
Looking at his humble expression, Meng Yingying suddenly stopped. She reached out her hand, and just as she was about to touch his face, she twisted her wrist and slapped him hard. He suddenly woke up. Shang Mang turned his face away. He was already very familiar with the strength and temperature of her hand, as well as the prelude to her slap.
But he didn't even try to dodge, letting the slap land on his face. Shang Mang's pupils turned blood red, a fake smile played on his lips, and his eyes were filled with resentment.
Snap!
The crisp sound of a slap rang out, and Meng Yingying rubbed her wrist, her voice turning cold: "You should learn how to talk to me properly."
"You can talk to me in a sarcastic tone, but I won't allow you to lecture me with such hatred. You should understand that I don't owe you anything."
Shang Mang looked at her, his resentment only deepening. Meng Yingying sneered, reached out and grabbed his chin, pulling it towards her, then said, "You really like to play the victim, seeing the heartache in my eyes for you, doesn't that make you feel good?"
The system's shrill voice suddenly rang in my mind.
[Villainous Male Supporting Character's Favorability: 1000%]
Meng Yingying's face tightened, and Shang Mang was stunned. After a moment, he grabbed her wrist, and the cold body temperature made her shiver. But Shang Mang did not let go and held on tightly. The emotions hidden in his eyes were gradually revealed, and he struggled with resentment.
He suddenly burst out laughing, the joy overflowing from his eyes. Meng Yingying looked at his fox-like eyes, which curved into hooks, and felt puzzled. She was the one who had exposed his pretense, so why was he laughing like this?
Shang Mang's fake smile faded, and his bloodshot eyes stared intently at her. He approached her, and Meng Yingying watched as his nose drew closer and closer, his pale face highlighting his striking features.
"You noticed?" he smiled, his hand moving like a python coiling around her wrist, cool and icy, slowly drawing closer.
He said definitively, "You noticed." Meng Yingying was confused; this development was clearly not what she wanted.
As they drew closer, Meng Yingying, wanting to project an imposing presence, didn't consider backing down. He pressed his forehead against hers, and after a few seconds of eye contact, Meng Yingying felt something cold being shoved into her left hand. She tried to look down.
Shang Mang grasped her other hand and reached down. Meng Yingying's soft fingertips touched the sharp edge, a very light touch, and her fingertips itched.
“Use this dagger to pierce my heart veins, pull out my bones, skin me alive, and kill me.”
He grabbed her hands, forcing her to grip the cold hilt of the knife. A sharp pain shot through Meng Yingying's head, and Shang Mang's strength remained undiminished. In her vision, the sharp point was about to pierce his abdomen.
Her hands were stained with blood, and terror filled her eyes. She had never killed anyone before, so was she about to kill someone now? But was he even human? Meng Yingying asked herself this question.
She tried to pull her hand away, but he was too strong. His voice came to her ears, hollow and clear: "Kill me, and everything will start anew. Kill me, and Zhou Xiuqi won't have to die."
The sound of piercing flesh suddenly became very clear. She stood up abruptly, her hands trembling, and lowered her head.
My hands were clean and white, with some red spots from exertion, but otherwise no other color.
She looked up at Shang Mang; his forehead was covered in cold sweat, and one hand, clenched against his chest, slowly shrank back.
She pounced on him, ripping open his collar. At his chest, the red spider lilies stretched across his entire body, blooming alluringly and beautifully.
Shang Mang reacted a second late, turning away to avoid her gaze. Meng Yingying remained silent for a while before wearily speaking, "You can leave. I want to rest."
Shang Mang's lips were pale as he looked at her, "I...".
Meng Yingying glanced at him, then suddenly leaned in and kissed him forcefully, their teeth clashing together in a sickening sound. She pulled away and stared at his face: "You're right, a liar will eventually fall for his own tricks, but I won't affect you in the slightest. Let's just keep going like this; it's better for both of us." Meng Yingying then stood up.
Shang Mang snorted coldly, biting his lip as he looked at her: "As long as you exist, you will affect me. Give me your life, and I will be alright!" His voice was somewhat angry. After speaking, he stopped looking at her and dissipated into a cloud of blood-red smoke. The thick, choking aura made her cough.
Meng Yingying lunged at the bed, her favorite way to move in modern times. But the bed wasn't very soft, and she bumped her nose, letting out a muffled groan of pain. Before she could even curse, a strong fragrance suddenly enveloped her nose, and a large hand encircled her waist, pulling her into an embrace.
He hunched over, holding her body firmly in his arms.
Meng Yingying was stunned. Shang Mang spoke from the back of her neck: "I will not do as you wish. The more you want me to do something, the less I will do it your way."
Just as Meng Yingying was about to open her mouth, Shang Mang covered her mouth and said coldly, "Shut up."
"I don't want to hear another word from you." The voice trailed off, sounding somewhat dejected.
Meng Yingying closed her eyes, her mind a complete mess. How could she make herself look like a heartless woman? She was anxious inside, but her body was exhausted. Before long, she fell into a deep sleep.
Shang Mang stared at her with his eyes open. He never slept, never felt pain, never laughed, never showed weakness—he was incapable of anything. Only today did he try to be a good person, but was that enough...?
......
A-Qiao strolled home slowly. Her mother was sitting on a stool embroidering clothes, a happy smile on her face. A-Qiao skipped over, picked up the clothes from the basket, and asked, "Mother, why are you embroidering clothes again? I already have so many clothes."
Her mother had a fleshy face that bunched up when she smiled, and she looked very kind: "I thought you would wear them, so I started embroidering them early."
Looking at the two identical garments, A-Qiao asked in confusion, "Then why are there two? I'm all alone."
The mother looked dazed and muttered to herself, "Someone will wear it, someone will wear it."
Today is market day in the village, and the sounds of chickens and ducks are lively and bustling. Xiao Zheyu looked around and could only see happiness and peace; there was nothing else.
An old man, holding a chicken, called out, "Fairy, fairy, this is a chicken we raised ourselves. It'll make a really delicious soup if you buy it."
Xiao Zheyu glanced at it and gently shook her head: "Thank you, no need." She continued walking forward, but there was duck and chicken droppings on the ground, so she had to walk carefully to avoid stepping on them.
"Zhou Xiuqi, where is the source usually hidden?" Xiao Zheyu turned around and asked, only to see him standing in one place, his back straight, like a pine tree standing tall.
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