Chapter 69 You slept with me and then ran away…
Chapter 69
Zheng Xiaotian sat to the side, the veins on his forehead bulging slightly, his lips twitching as he muttered a barely audible curse.
He quickly realized the atmosphere was too stiff, coughed twice, and then forced a smile, but the smile only stayed at the corner of his lips, and his eyes clearly showed his frustration and helplessness.
"Oh my..." he drawled, trying to sound casual, "Didn't we agree to relax after a busy week? Why does it feel like we're settling old scores right from the start? What grudge do we have against each other?"
After he finished speaking, he flicked his wrist, raised his glass, and with a deliberately light tone, lightly touched it to the air, his voice carrying a joking perfunctory tone: "Never mind, never mind, bottoms up, tonight's gathering of acquaintances!"
The remaining three exchanged glances for a moment, each with their own thoughts, but all of them raised their glasses in response.
The wine rippled gently in the glass, its amber light flickering under the lamp, illuminating several faces with composed expressions and perfectly measured smiles. Everyone maintained a proper demeanor, and no one was willing to be the first to break through this facade.
Xia Zhiyao finally raised her head, her gaze slowly falling on Zhou Yue. Her eyes seemed gentle, yet they were so calm that they made one's heart race.
There was no blame, no resentment, just quiet and indifferent silence, as if bidding farewell to oneself in one's heart, taking one last look at a landscape that did not belong to oneself.
Zhou Yue would rather she mocked him, would rather she tear off all the pretense in public, but she just glanced at him and made it harder for him to bear than any criticism.
He barely ate anything, just sat silently, occasionally glancing at her impassively.
Halfway through the meal, he suddenly said in a low voice, "Excuse me for a moment." With that, he stood up and left the table, his back as cold and hard as if he were trying to suppress some emotion.
Not long after, Xia Zhiyao also stood up. She turned into the bathroom corridor, turned on the tap, and icy water gushed out. She frantically rubbed her hands.
The sound of water drowned out everything. She washed her hands again and again, as if trying to wash away the surging emotions in her heart, but the more she washed, the colder her hands became.
She stared at the sink, breathing rapidly, her chest heaving violently, the light in her eyes gradually dimming, as if she had been pushed to her limit and could no longer hold on.
Just then, footsteps sounded behind him. Zhou Yue came out of the restroom and, as he looked up, bumped right into her.
She lowered her head and submerged herself in the cold water, as if trapped in a moment from which she could not escape. That scene made his heart tighten suddenly.
In the dim light, their eyes met fiercely in the air, a suppressed flame burning within the silence.
Zhou Yue's eyes were as dark as night, but anger was slowly burning within them: "Is this interesting?"
Xia Zhiyao turned slightly to the side, leaning against the sink, her arms crossed over her chest in a standard defensive stance. She looked up at him, her expression calm yet sharp: "So you've learned to turn the tables? Who came to this blind date first?"
Zhou Yue approached step by step. He reached out as if to grab her shoulder, but then withdrew his hand, which froze in mid-air for a moment.
He leaned down, his gaze fixed on her, his deep voice almost grinding between his teeth: "So you were just hugging and cuddling with Zheng Xiaotian? And calling him 'darling'... Do you two always do this?"
Xia Zhiyao raised an eyebrow, her smile mocking yet sharp: "And you? Zhou Yue, what are you doing here?"
Her tone was light, but every word was barbed: "You're sitting over there, on a blind date with another woman, chatting happily. Do you look like you were forced into it? Aren't you enjoying it?"
Zhou Yue laughed in anger, his lips curving into a cold, hard smile. He gritted his teeth, his voice low and chilling: "Xia Zhiyao, didn't you say we were just friends with benefits? It's none of your business who I go on blind dates with."
Xia Zhiyao paused for a moment, then smiled. She slowly raised her eyes, her gaze clear, and said softly, "Yes, I said, since we're just friends with benefits, why are you in such a hurry?"
She paused for a moment, her eyes gentle, but her smile was chillingly cold: "Oh, right, I also wish you and your Miss Lin a perfect match, a handsome man and a beautiful woman, and a long and happy marriage." Her words were light, yet they were like icicles, piercing Zhou Yue's heart inch by inch.
Zhou Yue couldn't understand it at all. The woman in front of him was beautiful in a sharp way, and cold in a heartless way, as if she wanted to tear him apart: "Xia Zhiyao, you really have guts."
She didn't back down at all, raising her eyes to meet his gaze directly: "What? Are you getting angry because you were seen through?"
Zhou Yue suddenly retorted in a low voice, "Didn't you say that we'd only sleep together, and neither of us would take responsibility?"
The moment those words left his lips, it felt as if he were being torn apart, blood gushing from his most hidden old wounds—pain he buried deep in his heart, pain he least wanted to touch, yet it was brutally exposed before her.
At the end of the corridor, the restaurant was brightly lit, bustling with people, and clinking glasses. But in this narrow, dimly lit restroom corridor, the two people's breathing mingled and echoed, like a storm that could erupt at any moment.
Xia Zhiyao was slightly taken aback by his voice. For a fleeting moment, a hint of wavering seemed to flash in her eyes, but it was quickly masked by coldness: "Yes, I said it. Since you know so clearly, why pretend as if you've suffered a great injustice?"
Zhou Yue suddenly reached out and gripped her wrist tightly. Cold water dripped down her soaked sleeves and flowed into his palm. It was icy cold, but it did nothing to extinguish the fire burning in his chest.
"Xia Zhiyao!" His voice was low and trembling, as if torn apart by anger and pain. "Do you think I should just be tortured and toyed with by you like this?"
His eyes were bloodshot, and he spoke each word with clenched teeth: "You slept with me and then ran away! You abandoned me! You just fucking disappeared without a word!"
Xia Zhiyao was firmly pinned to the sink by him, unable to move. She did not struggle, but just stared at him quietly. The tears in her eyes trembled, but she stubbornly suppressed them. She did not want to show weakness, and her regret was too deep to explain, so deep that she could not utter a word.
Looking at her silence, Zhou Yue suddenly laughed, a broken laugh filled with heartbreak: "After you abandoned me, you seemed to be living quite carefree."
He took a step closer, his breath brushing against her face, his voice low but sharp: "Working overtime until late at night, surviving on instant noodles, skinny as a shadow... Is this what you wanted? You came all the way back from New York, I thought you were so amazing, but what happened? You risked your life to live like this, was it worth it?"
Xia Zhiyao closed her eyes, and after a long while, she finally forced out a heart-wrenching confession: "Zhou Yue... Before New York, I always thought I was your sister." Zhou Yue was stunned at first, then laughed angrily, a near-mad light flashing in his eyes. He suddenly raised his hand, pinched her chin, and forced her to look up and meet his gaze.
"Fuck your sister." He gritted his teeth, his voice like blood being squeezed from deep in his throat, "She's not anymore."
"I'm not your fucking brother!" Zhou Yue almost roared, his voice shattered, as if his whole body had been torn apart. "And I'm not someone you can just throw away!"
The next second, he suddenly leaned down and kissed her fiercely, as if it were not a kiss, but an out-of-control revenge. It was love, pain, grievance and collapse, all of which he could not shout out and could only pour out in this moment.
Their lips intertwined, his kiss hot and wild, tearing and biting without any order, rough to the point of being out of control, the taste of blood filling her mouth, crimson seeping out.
Xia Zhiyao's eyes widened suddenly, her fingers gripping his shirt tightly. She was forced to breathe heavily, and through the chaos, she gritted her teeth and muttered, "Madman."
Zhou Yue stopped abruptly, his forehead pressed heavily against hers, hot breaths escaping his lips, his eyes bloodshot: "Yes, I've gone mad." His voice was hoarse, as if scorched by flames, "From the day you left... I've gone mad."
The taste of blood spread between their lips and teeth, and the intense ambiguity and pain intertwined, pushing the two of them to the brink of sanity collapse.
Just as the breaths were becoming so intense that they were almost completely out of control, the bathroom door clicked open.
A man stood frozen in place, his gaze lingering on the two men. The atmosphere was suffocatingly awkward. He stammered, coughed dryly, and awkwardly looked away, "Uh... excuse me, could you... continue?"
Before he could finish speaking, the door slammed shut again, and the footsteps outside hurriedly faded away, as if afraid of not running fast enough.
Xia Zhiyao was stunned for a moment, blood still lingering at the corner of her lips. That moment of daze was quickly pulled back by reason. She pushed him away sharply, neatly straightened her collar, and raised her hand to wipe away the mess and bloodstains from her lips.
She didn't stop or look back, but strode straight out. Yet, deep within that silhouette, her heart was breaking apart, each step feeling like stepping on a blade.
Zhou Yue stood frozen in place, his throat tight, the warmth of her still lingering on his fingertips, and the metallic taste of blood between his lips and teeth, burning his heart with pain.
The dinner party finally ended amidst polite laughter and insincere small talk.
Lin Zhiyi calmly stood up and bid farewell to everyone present, her eyes and brows displaying a gentle and generous demeanor, her smile appropriate and considerate.
She didn't look back, but walked away step by step, as if she had shed her role in the entire play the moment she left her seat. She no longer needed to care about everyone's opinions; she seemed to be embraced by the night, her silhouette lonely yet elegant.
That figure gradually faded into the distance, a composed demeanor tinged with a habitual detachment, as if it had long been accustomed to gathering its emotions alone after the crowd had dispersed and walking into the darkness by itself.
Zheng Xiaotian stood there, stunned, his hand still holding the glass in the same position as before, half-suspended in the air, neither falling nor dropping.
It was as if they had forgotten how to move and where they were supposed to be.
His gaze followed her retreating figure intently, hovering in the air, feeling empty and adrift. Gone was his usual carefree frivolity; his eyes clearly revealed bewilderment and unease, tinged with resentment, absurdity, and above all, helplessness.
Xia Zhiyao watched quietly from the side. In the end, she raised her hand and gently placed it on his shoulder, patting him lightly. Her voice was soft, but it hit her heart like a nail: "Why aren't you chasing after him? If you miss this chance, you'll never have another one."
Zheng Xiaotian turned around abruptly to look at her. His absurd smile was torn away, and his unconcealed regret and resentment surged out, even revealing a faint glimmer of hope. But he said nothing, only grinned and forced a smile.
The wine glass in his hand finally slammed down on the table with a "clang," the crisp sound shattering the hypocritical facade of the scene.
He took a deep breath, his eyes hardened, and he turned around abruptly, striding after her.
At the street corner, neon lights flickered, flowing with vibrant colors, reflecting on people's shadows like crumpled and discarded old paintings, fragmented and broken.
Lin Zhiyi walked very fast, almost as if she were fleeing in panic. She plunged into the night, as if she would completely collapse if she slowed down even for a moment.
Zheng Xiaotian caught up in a few steps, stepped aside to block her path, his breathing uneven, still sporting a nonchalant expression: "Hey, why are you in such a hurry?"
He grinned, a slight smirk playing on his lips, but the weariness in his eyes was impossible to hide. "Long time no see. Shall I see you off?"
Lin Zhiyi stopped in her tracks. She slowly turned around, her eyes as cold as frost, her voice soft yet sharp as a blade: "Zheng Xiaotian, what are you doing here?"
Her throat bobbed slightly, and she suddenly sneered, "Isn't your girlfriend still sitting in the restaurant?"
Zheng Xiaotian paused for a moment, his smile freezing on his lips. He then lowered his eyes, put his hands in his pockets with a wry smile, and looked up at the neon lights that flickered in the distance: "There's nothing to do on the way back. Seeing you off is better than just standing there in a daze."
Lin Zhiyi stared at him, her eyes filled with bitterness and anger, her stubbornness trembling with suppressed rage. She gritted her teeth and spoke, her voice trembling but clear: "Zheng Xiaotian, stop pretending to be ignorant about the score between us."
Zheng Xiaotian lowered his head and chuckled. The chuckle was as light as the wind, yet as fragile as an old wound being reopened. "I wasn't pretending."
He paused, lowering his voice even further, "However... we both know in our hearts that this debt has long been unresolved."
Lin Zhiyi's eyelashes trembled slightly, and her eyes reddened. She desperately tilted her head back to keep the tears from falling, but a bitter, sharp smile appeared on her lips, like a last act of stubbornness.
"Yes, it's impossible to count." She choked back tears, emphasizing the last sentence: "After all, you were the one who wronged me first."
This sentence was like the last straw that broke the camel's back.
Zheng Xiaotian stood frozen in place, the pain so intense he almost forgot to breathe. His Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty, and his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he couldn't squeeze out a single word. The explanations he had prepared long ago now became the most ridiculous silence.
The wind howled from the street corner, lifting the corners of their clothes. It was as cold as a knife, cutting straight to their hearts. This moment felt like an old dream from which they were destined never to wake up.
Lin Zhiyi sniffed, forced a smile—a clean and resolute smile, devoid of any expectation—turned around, her steps firm, without looking back.
Zheng Xiaotian remained standing there, silent and motionless. He lowered his eyes, chuckled softly, his voice so low it was almost drowned out by the wind, "...I'm sorry."
"I've long since lost the right to speak." He leaned against the streetlamp, lit a cigarette, and the flash of the flame illuminated the shadows in his eyes, as well as the lingering resentment that trembled and burned in the wind.
He stubbed out the cigarette violently against the trash can as soon as it burned out, as if he wanted to strangle something to death.
But my heart was churning even more violently, filled with regret, guilt, grievance, pain, and the helplessness of having reached out and grasped something but letting it slip away.
He lit a second one, took two puffs, and then extinguished it. He lit a third one, and then extinguished it again, repeatedly judging himself on the street.
He lowered his head, forcing a smile that sounded bitter and resigned. He wiped his face haphazardly, then casually straightened his askew coat, trying to hide his disheveled state.
Then he turned and walked toward the restaurant.
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