Chapter 50 When you came up with me...
As the banquet ended, Zheng Yaotian helped his slightly tipsy younger brother to his feet, glancing back at the two people beside him.
Zhou Yue leaned back in his chair, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, the collar slightly open, and a faint breath escaped his lips.
His cheeks were flushed with a faint blush, yet his eyes were unusually clear, bright like a glass of unmelted ice wine, both cool and intense. A barely perceptible curve played on his lips as he gazed at the few glasses on the table still stained with wine, a half-smile playing on his lips, his silence revealing nothing of his thoughts.
Zheng Yaotian withdrew his gaze, casually patted Xia Zhiyao's shoulder, and said in a relaxed tone, "I'll take this troublesome girl home first, and Zhou Yue is in your care."
Zheng Xiaotian was yawning, his voice lazy and slightly drunken: "You all seem fine. Sister Zhiyao has the best alcohol tolerance. As for Zhou Yue in this state... I don't feel comfortable letting him take a taxi by himself."
Before he could finish speaking, Zheng Yaotian half-pushed and half-dragged him toward the door. Halfway there, he turned back and waved, smiling as he instructed, "Take him back, keep a close eye on him, and don't let him say anything out of line."
Zhou Yue heard this and chuckled softly. The chuckle carried a relaxed air of intoxication and a subtle provocation. His voice was like sand polished by alcohol, deep and warm, as if it could touch the earlobe through the air.
He stood up, leaning on the edge of the table, his movements unhurried. He had broad shoulders and a narrow waist. The hem of his suit jacket was slightly open, revealing a section of his smooth collarbone. His skin was warm from the alcohol, giving it a soft, warm glow under the light.
He had naturally sharp features, and at this moment, still slightly intoxicated, his demeanor was relaxed and languid, yet subtly dangerous.
What truly captivated her was his gaze. Behind his glasses, his eyes, tinged with the color of wine, seemed to hold an unsettling flame, or like the tide of night. When they fell upon her, he uttered not a word, yet they seemed to see right through her, to the bone.
Xia Zhiyao stood beside him, looking up. What was originally just a casual glance was instantly fixed on her gaze.
Up close, his features were even sharper than under the light, and the alcohol softened his coldness into a languid dullness. She could even smell the scent of alcohol mixed with a faint tobacco on him.
After a few seconds, Zhou Yue turned his head slightly, lowered his gaze, and asked in a low voice, "What are you looking at?" His voice seemed to come through a layer of hot mist, with a slightly husky tone after being slightly drunk.
Xia Zhiyao seemed to snap out of her daze, letting out a soft breath, withdrawing her gaze, and deliberately softening her tone: "Can you stand up?" She paused, then asked, "Can you walk?"
Zhou Yue curved his lips into a slight smile, but didn't answer immediately. Instead, he moved his hand off the edge of the table, leaning slightly towards her with a hint of malice: "Why don't you give it a try?"
For a moment, Xia Zhiyao was somewhat dazed.
She boasted that she had seen countless men in suits, from elites to politicians, from polite smiles to cold indifference, but none of them were like him, even in their drunkenness, they possessed such a strong and dangerous attraction.
It wasn't just beautiful; it had an undercurrent of tension, like the deep sea churning silently, making it hard to tell whether to take a step back or be irresistibly drawn closer.
He stood there, the light falling on his shoulders, casting dappled shadows on his slightly open collar and collarbone, making his languid air seem all the more inviting. When his gaze fell on her, it was as if he were offering a silent invitation, or as if he already knew her reaction.
Xia Zhiyao seemed to be drawn by some invisible force, her breath so light it almost spilled from her lips. Her fingertips trembled slightly, but she still reached out her hand, with a hint of tentativeness and an unknown acceleration in her heartbeat.
Zhou Yue lowered his eyes, reached out and grasped her hand, with a firmness that was impossible to break free from. The warmth of his palm spread through his knuckles, a heat tinged with the scent of alcohol, as if he had inadvertently seized her pulse.
He braced his left hand on the edge of the table and stood up slowly and deftly. Xia Zhiyao subconsciously took a step forward, as if to help him, but he suddenly grabbed her waist. The action was swift and steady, like the instinct of catching prey, casual with a hint of drunkenness, yet undeniably close.
Xia Zhiyao's whole body suddenly tensed up, as if something had struck her chest, and her breath caught in her throat.
But the next second, Zhou Yue acted as if nothing had happened, casually released her, turned around, took a long stride, and walked towards the door.
She stood frozen in place, watching his back sway slightly in the dim light. His composure and nonchalance made it seem as if the touch just now was merely her illusion. Yet, she knew clearly that the warmth of that moment was still firmly locked around her waist, lingering.
Outside the club, the night wind was chilly to the bone, and the streetlights cast a cool light from above, casting long, thin shadows of the two people that swayed gently on the stone pavement as if being pulled by the wind.
Xia Zhiyao walked ahead, her coat billowing slightly in the wind, and the hem of her dark green skirt fluttering in the night breeze. She deliberately quickened her pace, as if trying to shake off something, but the gaze behind her remained fixed on her, neither approaching nor moving away, its composure unsettling.
The footsteps drew closer, carrying a leisurely weariness. Her heart tightened; he was always like this, controlling his own pace and never cooperating with anyone.
"Why are you walking so fast?" His voice was low and hoarse in the night wind, like a dark line soaked in alcohol, easily breaking through the cold air.
Xia Zhiyao felt inexplicably irritated. This way of asking questions forced her to speak even though she already knew the answer.
She didn't stop, a mocking smile playing on her lips: "You think I want to pay attention to you?" She turned around abruptly, forcing herself to meet his gaze, her tone sharp, "If it weren't for President Zheng asking me to take you, I wouldn't even want to waste time looking at you."
Zhou Yue paused for a moment, then smiled, a tired and self-deprecating smile, as if laughing at his own naivety. Under the streetlights, his hair was disheveled by the wind, his brows and eyes were cold, as if separated from the temperature of this world by a thin mist.
The wind picked up, and Xia Zhiyao unconsciously tightened her coat, as if to ward off the chill, but she couldn't tell whether it was the night wind or the approaching footsteps that brought it.
Zhou Yue approached, each step echoing her heartbeat. He lowered his eyes, his fingertips slowly clenching in his palm. After a long silence, he nodded gently, his voice low and husky, carrying a chilling sharpness: "Very good, very clear."
The driver had already slowly moved the car to the door, and neither of them spoke as they got in.
Xia Zhiyao turned to look out the window. Neon lights swept across the glass, casting cold, white shadows on her profile, making her expression clear, calm, and almost indifferent.
Zhou Yue leaned against the other side, his eyes closed, his posture relaxed as if he were drunk and unconscious, but in reality, he was as clear-headed as could be.
The entire space was so quiet it was almost suffocating, as if both of them were hiding fire, just waiting for a spark, but neither was willing to reach out first.
The car slowly stopped downstairs at Zhou Yue's house. The driver gently reminded him, and he opened his eyes, but didn't move for a long time.
Xia Zhiyao originally intended to get out of the car and leave, her hand already on the door, but after glancing at him, an inexplicable sense of responsibility welled up in her heart, and she forcibly withdrew her hand. She told herself that this was just out of basic humanitarianism.
However, as soon as she approached, even though he was still standing firmly, he seemed to suddenly lose all his strength and naturally leaned most of his weight against her.
Caught off guard, Xia Zhiyao instinctively reached out to support him while holding her coat in one hand. The warmth emanating from his body, tinged with a faint smell of alcohol, made her inexplicably flustered.
She frowned, using a sarcastic tone to mask her inner turmoil: "You've really drunk yourself into a useless state?"
Zhou Yue didn't reply, but just stared ahead. The light reflected off his face from the elevator mirror, making his features sharp, but it couldn't illuminate his empty eyes.
Xia Zhiyao couldn't help but whisper, "Zhou Yue, can't you even stop pretending that nothing matters for a second?"
He slowly turned his head, a smile playing on his lips, the meaning unclear—whether it was a coldness or a smile: "And what about you? When have you ever genuinely cared about me?"
Xia Zhiyao choked, as if something was stuck in her throat. Not wanting to appear guilty, she retorted coldly, "I can't give you the kind of concern you're looking for."
Zhou Yue's smile faded as he stared at her, as if forcing her to back down, or perhaps waiting for her to say something.
The elevator arrived, and the doors slowly opened in the silence between the two. He suddenly whispered, "But you're still here, aren't you?"
Xia Zhiyao gripped the coat in her hand tightly, said nothing more, and simply helped him inside.
Stepping out of the elevator and into the long corridor of the high-rise apartment building, the corridor was so quiet that you could hear the echo of the elevator doors closing in the distance.
Zhou Yue's fingers curled slightly as he swiped the card, unlocked the door, and pushed it open. His movements were slower than usual. As soon as the door opened, warm white light poured out of the room.
Xia Zhiyao stopped in her tracks. She had thought he was living in a temporary apartment where she could just pack her bags and leave at any time, but it turned out to be a standard three-bedroom apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows covering an entire wall, offering a panoramic view of the night and the city lights.
The living room is decorated in a simple and modern style, with clean lines and cool colors. The open kitchen is filled with utensils that are arranged in an orderly manner. But if you look closely, the countertops are empty, there are no books or cups on the coffee table, and even the shoe cabinet only contains a few pairs of shoes that are neatly arranged.
It's beautiful here, but it feels too empty. It's as empty as a showroom, as if no one has ever really lived here.
She chuckled, a hint of mockery in her voice: "Pretty good, bare walls, just like you."
Zhou Yue didn't look up. He walked to the sofa, sat down, sighed softly, and loosened his tie, as if he didn't care at all about what she said.
Xia Zhiyao stopped looking and went straight to the restroom.
She didn't close the door. She turned on the tap, and cold water gushed out, splashing onto her palm. The coldness made her fingertips twitch slightly, but that chill couldn't wash away the lingering warmth from when he held her hand. It was like an invisible fire, sticking to her skin, haunting her.
She looked up at herself in the mirror. Her makeup was still perfect, her eyeliner was flawless, and her lip color was vibrant and precise. But her eyes were as cold as ice holding shards of light.
It was an absolutely perfect mask; the smile was an act, the tears were an act, even the silence was calculated, only showing others the side she wanted them to see.
In the mirror, that familiar shadow seemed to solidify into form without anyone noticing. Zhou Yue leaned against the doorway, one hand supporting the door frame, his posture languid yet shrouded in the silent atmosphere before a hunt, like a wild beast crouching in the shadows, dangerously still.
The light from the bathroom doorway slanted down behind him, casting him in a half-lit, half-shadowed silhouette. In the interplay of light and shadow, his broad shoulders and slender waist were clearly visible, his suit jacket casually draped over his shoulders, outlining his sharp proportions.
His collar was open, two buttons undone, revealing his well-defined collarbones and chest that rose and fell slightly with his breath. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing sharp lines on his wrists and faintly visible veins. Even when he was standing still, he looked like a bowstring ready to strike at any moment.
The gold-rimmed glasses sat firmly on his nose, and his single eyelids drooped slightly beneath the lenses, softening his sharp features but adding a fatally gentle illusion. The alcohol made the corners of his eyes tinge with a light red, as if he had just weathered a long night, revealing a dark, emotional glow.
He didn't smile; his thin lips were tightly pressed together, but his gaze was fixed on Xia Zhiyao. He was so calm that it was almost cruel. In the dim light behind his glasses, his eyes seemed to be scrutinizing her, or approaching her, as if he would trap her in his arms if she took another half step back.
The aura was almost tangible, a deep, scalding, and oppressive hormone that slowly spread from where he stood, making people subconsciously hold their breath.
"What are you doing standing here?" Xia Zhiyao's voice turned cold, the last syllable carrying a burning impatience, like a blade slicing through the air. "Get out."
Zhou Yue's Adam's apple bobbed, and he chuckled softly, his voice hoarse and deep: "This is my home, Xia Zhiyao."
His eyes darkened, and he slowly took a step closer, as if trying to exhaust her escape route step by step. His tone was unhurried, yet suffocating: "When you came up here with me, didn't you think... what might happen?"
Xia Zhiyao frowned and instinctively raised her leg to kick him. The movement was swift and decisive, but it was slightly swaying due to her drunkenness. It wasn't particularly fierce, but it was her usual temper and the stubbornness etched into her bones.
But before she could lift her foot halfway, he firmly grabbed her ankle.
Zhou Yue bent down, his gaze, hidden beneath his single eyelids, peering through his gold-rimmed glasses at her, like a predator holding down its prey, calm yet imposing.
He held her fair and slender ankle firmly in one hand, his palm burning hot, his knuckles distinct, and his muscles slightly taut beneath his suit sleeves, his breathing becoming uneven.
The heat spread from her palms up her ankles, like a warm chain etched onto her skin. The coolness and heat intertwined in that instant, causing her body to shudder slightly.
She was somewhat drunk, and all her senses seemed to be shrouded in a thin veil. The sounds of the outside world faded away, and the temperature of the air became painfully clear.
She could feel her reaction was a beat slow, and her heart was pounding erratically, but she couldn't suppress the emotions that had been building up all night and the instinctive trembling of her body.
She knew he remembered that action, just as she remembered it clearly, down to the last detail of his breathing, his gaze, and the oppressive feeling that left no room for escape.
The scene from that night flashed through her mind. She was lying on the edge of the bed, her hair disheveled, her breathing rapid, her mind a complete blank. Zhou Yue was in the same state, holding her ankle tightly. But back then, he only pulled her gently, and she lost her balance, completely dragged into his world.
During that time, he suffered from insomnia and anxiety, tossing and turning every night, as if trapped in a silent storm, feeling like the world was about to collapse. She was the only piece of driftwood he could grab onto, and the obsession he would never let go of.
Reality and memory overlapped at this moment. Zhou Yue's hands trembled slightly, her knuckles clenched so tightly that she almost strained. The alcohol made her reaction a beat slower, but her heart was pounding uncontrollably in her chest, and every nerve was screaming.
He pulled her sharply, his movements rough and swift, as if to tear her from the edge of reason and drag her into that abyss that belonged only to him, a place from which there was no way out.
Xia Zhiyao was pulled forward and staggered. Her coat slipped from her hand and fell to the ground. Before her fingertips could grab anything, her waist was firmly held by his other hand.
The long-suppressed emotions finally broke free and poured out from the edge of control. His breath was hot and smelled of alcohol, close to her ear, like a heat wave that even the wind couldn't penetrate, trapping her in his arms.
"Zhou Yue, are you a fucking dog in heat?" she muttered, her voice trembling from her rapid breathing, her eyes a mixture of anger and panic, her face taut as if it might burst at any moment.
His eyes were bloodshot, and his gold-rimmed glasses gleamed coldly under the light. Through the lenses, his gaze seemed even more oppressive. The alcohol mixed with heat emanated from him, relentlessly approaching her like a scorching fire, close enough to burn through every inch of her skin.
Zhou Yue almost forced her to sit in front of the sink, the movement so sudden that she almost lost her balance.
Behind her was his hot, disordered breathing, the rise and fall of his chest hitting her back through her clothes, carrying an undeniable urgency; the mirror in front of them reflected two intertwined figures, his face hidden in half light and half shadow, blurry yet even more dangerous.
She instinctively tried to break free, her fingertips gripping the edge of the sink tightly until her knuckles turned white. But Zhou Yue, at that moment, was like a wild beast cornered, his muscles tense, his breathing heavy, and she became his only escape.
She instinctively wanted to close her eyes to block out the overwhelming burden that was making it hard for her to breathe, but his hand suddenly rose, his rough palm gripping her chin, forcibly lifting her face and forcing her to look directly into the mirror in front of her.
“Look at yourself.” His voice was deep and rumbling, like thunder pressing down on his chest, hoarse yet carrying an irresistible force. “You said I’m like a dog in heat…”
He paused, his gaze meeting hers in the mirror, his voice lower, like warm breath against her earlobe: "And what about you?"
In the mirror, Xia Zhiyao's pupils trembled slightly, her gaze swaying violently between chaos and resistance, yet deep within lay a desire she herself was unwilling to acknowledge.
His lips parted slightly, but he couldn't say anything; all that remained was the rapid beating of his heart and a sense of bewilderment as if he were being swept into an abyss.
Xia Zhiyao was abruptly lifted from the sink by him, and before she could even think for a second, her body slammed heavily into the center of the mattress. All her consciousness was completely disrupted at that moment.
She instinctively reached for the edge of the bed, futilely searching for something to steady herself in her sudden loss of control. Every inch of her skin felt like it was burning, as if even her nerve endings were throbbing.
Zhou Yue followed closely behind, pouncing down like a beast, his heavy aura pressing down on the surrounding air, trapping her firmly in his shadow.
His burning breath was so close, his lips and teeth brushed against hers with ruthlessness and force, as if he wanted to tear her apart and then piece her back together, bit by bit. Every touch carried an uncontrollable dominance and a deep-seated obsession, leaving her nowhere to escape.
His movements were like a storm, each approach stealing her breath away.
The feeling was like being pushed off a cliff, spiraling out of control, slowly escalating until she could hardly breathe. She also inexplicably grew accustomed to this oppressive feeling, a habit of having no way to retreat and only to face it head-on.
He remained silent, even his breathing was almost icy.
His gold-rimmed glasses had long been removed, and his wet hair clung messily to his forehead. The dark emotions in his eyes were as heavy as the night, devoid of tenderness, wavering, and even the slightest hint of passion.
At that moment, she was overwhelmed by a feeling of weightlessness. In the blankness of her blurred vision, she almost instinctively reached out to hug him, or even kiss him, even if it was just for a moment.
But when she opened her eyes, it was as if everything that had just happened had nothing to do with her emotions or her.
Her hand froze in mid-air, then silently withdrew, the movement so light it seemed as if she were pulling her entire heart away.
The tide receded instantly, and they were still so close they could hear each other's heartbeats and their breaths mingled, yet there wasn't even a kiss between them.
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