Outside the window, brilliant lights shone into the dim room, casting a patchwork of light and shadow over the man lying on the bed in a haze.
The air was thick with the strong scent of alcohol, oddly pleasant. Wen Ling crouched by the bed with her arms around her knees, quietly watching the drunk man. His cold, pale complexion was flushed red; stripped of his usual arrogance, with the corners of his eyes damp, he looked unexpectedly fragile and pitiful.
Wen Ling suddenly leaned closer and gently began undoing the buttons of his shirt.
She had only undone a few when her hand was seized with force. Wen Ling’s heart raced, and she lifted her eyes to look at him.
The man’s eyes were unfocused, as if veiled by a thin mist. His gaze could not settle. Only after his long, narrow eyes blinked a few times did he finally make out who the person straddling him was.
“Wen Ling.” He called her name, his voice thick with drunkenness.
Wen Ling gave a guilty “Mm” and turned her face away, not daring to look at him.
“You finally came to see me in my dreams…” His voice began to slur, yet his tone was filled with boundless grievance. “It’s been three years. Why did you only come to see me now?”
“Zhou Yinhe, I…”
But before she could finish, Zhou Yinhe flipped over and pinned her beneath him, biting her lips roughly. Wen Ling gave a pained “Mmph,” and just as she was about to tell him to be gentler, she heard Zhou Yinhe murmur softly, “You heartless bastard. I missed you so much.”
Wen Ling could no longer bear to say anything. She let him bite her, broke free from his restraint, and went to undo the remaining buttons of his shirt.
Their shadows pressed together and tangled into one. Scattered pieces of clothing were thrown all over the floor; a black shirt and a black skirt gradually piled atop each other. The scent of alcohol in the air slowly mingled with another kind of breath, enough to make anyone blush.
Zhou Yinhe sensed that something was wrong. This feeling was both unfamiliar and familiar, yet it should not exist in a dream.
He lowered his eyes to look at the woman before him, her cheeks flushed crimson. His hands, braced on either side of her, clenched. The pain made him somewhat sober.
Wen Ling lifted her eyes at him in confusion, clearly feeling his wild heartbeat and heat. Thinking only that he was terribly drunk and needed a moment, she hooked her slender, fair arms around his neck and turned them over.
In the end, he had drunk too much. The alcohol steeped Zhou Yinhe’s thoughts and burned away the last of his reason, leaving him to be dragged into the deep sea to roll with the waves.
The rich breaths gradually dissipated. Wen Ling lay at the edge of the bed, calming her breathing, but Zhou Yinhe behind her abruptly pulled away as if he had seen some terrifying beast.
“Wen. Ling.” He pronounced her name word by word in a stern voice.
Wen Ling looked back at him hazily and met his eyes, where desire had not yet faded before anger dyed them over. Her heart trembled uncontrollably.
“When did you come back? Why am I here?” he demanded.
Wen Ling came back to herself at his words. Biting her lip, she climbed up and pulled the blanket over herself, half her face hidden beneath it as she said guiltily, “I came back yesterday. I… I had someone intercept you.”
The fragmented memories from before entering the hotel returned. Zhou Yinhe gave a cold laugh, irritably raking a hand through his already disheveled hair. He said mockingly, “So those bodyguards were your people. What? No men around you these past three years? You had to come back and find your ex-boyfriend to do this?”
The flush on Wen Ling’s face drained away rapidly. Pale-faced, she stammered, “It’s not like that. I… I was afraid you wouldn’t be willing to see me, so I…”
Zhou Yinhe let out a cool “heh.” His chest rose and fell as he suppressed the anger surging within him. Through gritted teeth, he said, “You really are capable, Miss Wen. You dumped someone and then came back, thinking one sentence—‘I regret it’—would be enough to summon him at will and dismiss him just as easily?”
“It really isn’t. Will you listen to me? It really isn’t what you think. Back then, I was because…” She edged closer to him, wanting to reach out and take his hand, but she had only spoken halfway when it felt as though countless tiny needles were stabbing into her head. The pain made her collapse onto the bed, cold sweat instantly breaking out across her forehead.
Zhou Yinhe only thought she was pretending to be pitiful. Pressing his thin lips together, he picked up his clothes and put them on, saying coldly, “Stop acting. I don’t fall for this anymore.”
Back before they had gotten together, Wen Ling had often pretended to be pitiful or unwell to make his heart soften. Just like that, step by step, she had won him over. Then, when he had already sunk completely into it, she had suddenly turned on him and dumped him, ignoring all his attempts to make her stay.
Wen Ling pressed her fingers against her temples and forced herself to sit up, shaking her head. Before she could say anything, she saw Zhou Yinhe turn and stride away.
Hearing the door slam shut with force, Wen Ling collapsed weakly onto the bed. The needle-like pain in her head had already vanished once she no longer intended to keep speaking. She stared blankly at the ornate chandelier overhead.
So she couldn’t tell Zhou Yinhe. Then why had she been able to tell Lu Zhaoye? Just because Zhou Yinhe was the male lead in the book? Wen Ling frowned and sighed. She, the male lead’s white moonlight and vicious ex-girlfriend who had only awakened after dying once, really was miserable. She couldn’t even honestly tell the truth.
The phone that had fallen to the floor suddenly rang, especially piercing in the quiet room. It startled Wen Ling out of her daze and made her tremble. She got out of bed, picked up the phone, and pulled on a bathrobe as she answered.
The man’s voice that came through the phone was languid, sounding thoroughly unserious.
“How did it go? Did you tell him?”
The corners of Wen Ling’s lips drooped. She pouted and said, “I had just been about to explain the reason to him when my head felt like it was being stabbed with needles. I couldn’t say it at all.”
Hearing Wen Ling’s words, the man laughed aloud without giving her any face.
Only when he sensed that Wen Ling was about to get annoyed did he stop laughing and say lazily, “Anyone who hears this matter of yours would find it absurd. So I still advise you to take it slow. Otherwise, even if you could say it, he’d only think you were trying to trick him back into your hands.”
“…”
After hearing that, Wen Ling fell silent for a while. She sorted through her thoughts and rallied herself, saying it both to the man on the other end of the phone and to herself: “It doesn’t matter. In any case, sooner or later, I’ll coax him back.”