Chapter 14 Day Three
The summer rain came and went quickly.
One moment, a torrential downpour battered the car from every angle, the surround-sound effect of rain inside the vehicle drowning out even the radio. The next, it had quieted down, and the bright sun after the rain spread across the sky.
The driver turned the knob. The traffic report mentioned a three-car pileup ahead causing congestion and suggested detouring.
A female passenger in the back lifted her eyes from her phone—eyes like clear water—and said softly, "Driver, turn around. We’re not going to the InterContinental Hotel anymore."
"You sure? If you’re sure, I’ll exit at this intersection. The opposite lane is moving fast."
"Yeah."
The woman rolled down the window. Damp, hot air instantly swept through the car. She squinted, gazing at the clouds in the gradually brightening sky outside, then gently wiped away water droplets that had splashed onto the back of her hand from the window. Her expression was calm, showing neither joy nor anger, and no trace of sorrow.
The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror, quirking his lips oddly. At the next intersection, the car turned and headed back the way it came.
-
InterContinental Hotel.
Dayun Medical’s frontier consultation and sharing session on proton and heavy ion therapy was about to end.
Inside the venue, Song Xu, as a conference partner, sat with several executives from Dayun and representatives from two other teaching hospitals.
He was the youngest and best-looking among them. His shirt collar was casually undone, and the tie Wen Bairan had urgently dry-cleaned for him at noon was nowhere to be seen—whether he’d forgotten it or something else. His long legs were casually crossed, and he held an unattractive attendee badge, idly playing with its blue lanyard as he listened to others.
It was a simple, boring action, but because of his cold, aloof face, he seemed to exist on a completely different level compared to the other middle-aged executives nearby.
A female executive in black-framed glasses, seeing him seemed disengaged, struck up a conversation with him.
Qiao Yi only found out today that Song Xu was quite familiar with these individuals from Dayun, especially this female executive, who was his alumna from studying abroad, named Zhong Yu.
Zhong Yu’s features were average. Like her colleagues, she wore a black professional suit, though hers was a skirt—a conservative length, much like herself, giving off a stern impression. Her only advantage was her fair skin, though even that was half-hidden by those black-framed glasses.
She was chatting happily with Song Xu, her eyes sparkling so brightly it shone through her glasses.
Zhong Yu was short and covered her mouth when she spoke. Song Xu leaned slightly, bringing his ear closer to accommodate her height. Their heads were close together, and for some amusing reason, Zhong Yu’s face broke into a wide grin.
Song Xu remained his usual aloof, indifferent self.
Maybe it was just an illusion, but Qiao Yi felt he’d been a bit displeased ever since he found out Wen Bairan wasn’t coming.
Though his expression showed nothing unusual, his eyes were colder than usual.
Ugh, who knows what Wen Bairan was up to? One call she said she was on her way, the next she suddenly said she wasn’t coming.
It caught everyone off guard.
Zhong Yu and her group were staying in Shenjiang for about a week. Song Xu suggested booking rooms for them at the InterContinental, on the company’s dime, along with arranging a dedicated car available 24/7.
After the conference, Song Xu would host them for a meal at a high-end private dining establishment in Lingang.
That place was notoriously hard to book, and they were doing it last minute. Qiao Yi had heard Wen Bairan’s boyfriend was a VVIP there and had wanted to ask her to pull some strings. She thought they’d be left empty-handed, but fortunately, a table had just freed up due to a last-minute cancellation. Otherwise, her job could have been at risk.
Remembering how merciless Song Xu had been with the intern that morning gave Qiao Yi chills. She couldn’t help but send Wen Bairan a message to vent.
[Qiao Yi]: Where are you? I haven’t been able to reach you all afternoon (frustrated)(frustrated)
[Qiao Yi]: I have to go to this dinner soon (crying)(crying)(crying)(crying)
[Qiao Yi]: Hey, hey, are you there?
[Qiao Yi]: Just between you and me, I think Master Song and this female executive have something going on (shush)(shush)(shush)
-
The bathroom was filled with steam.
Thick mist covered the glass, condensing into droplets that slid down the mirror.
In the white bathtub, a few rose petals floated on the berry-colored water. The water level wasn’t high, exposing the woman’s glowing white calves and bent knees. Her tender, lotus-like arms rested on either side of the tub, her fingers slender and elegantly shaped. A pink, glistening droplet hung from one fingertip, trembling precariously.
She had her eyes closed, as if asleep. Her bare-faced was delicately featured, and her skin, wet then dried, was soaked with moisture, plump and dewy.
Her neck had been resting on the back cushion for too long, feeling stiff. She shifted, causing the water to splash. She drew her right arm back into the water, turning slightly to the side, her left side emerging above the surface.
Her neckline was elegant, her shoulders smooth and gleaming. Her left arm bent behind her, her appropriately sized chest half-hidden, half-revealed. Her skin was soft and supple, like a peeled peach soaking in water—soft curves, juicy and tempting enough to bite.
The bathtub ledge was too high, and the position strained her neck. She frowned uncomfortably, waking up feeling a chill.
She’d been soaking too long; the once-warm water had turned cold.
Faintly, she heard her phone vibrating nearby. Reaching for it instinctively, she splashed water on her face with her movement.
Wen Bairan blinked her eyes open, shifting from reclining to sitting halfway up. Afraid of slipping, she draped herself over the edge like a towel, her underarms supporting her on the cold porcelain rim, the chilly porcelain made her shiver.
"...Hello?"
Answering the call, deafening electronic music blasted through, jolting her awake.
Ke Shumin yelled at the top of her lungs, "Hey? Ran Ran? Why haven’t you been answering all night? I’ve been looking for you forever!"
Wen Bairan frowned, holding the phone slightly away. Before she could ask what was wrong, Ke Shumin continued yelling, "Did you and Zhou Lin really break up?! He brought someone new today, surnamed Su, a pianist. That woman’s figure is so much like yours, even that artsy vibe she gives off is just like you back in college! Do you think he’s doing it on purpose? Hey? Wen Bairan? Are you listening?"
Wen Bairan stared at the water stains on the dark floor tiles, some almost dry, some still damp—a small, circular patch with irregular splashes around it, not a complete arc.
Zhou Lin’s words in the car—"Let’s get married."—still echoed in her ears.
Just a few hours later, he was already showing off with someone new.
She sat up in the water. The chilled air in the bathroom made her shiver. Hanging up, she texted Ke Shumin to find a quieter spot, then stepped out of the tub.
Barefoot, berry-colored water trails meandered down her pale, delicate skin. Instead of showering immediately, she stood before the mirror, looking at her naked reflection.
Her phone rang again.
Putting it on speaker, the now-quiet background highlighted the intentional or unintentional sourness in Ke Shumin’s words.
"Not to be mean, but that woman is nowhere near as good as you. Just because she can play piano, she acts all fragile and pitiful. She claimed it was her first day meeting Zhou Lin, but she spent the whole night glued to him, not moving an inch, like she was afraid someone would snatch her away. Seriously, everyone’s here to have fun. Who doesn’t see she’s putting on an act? I was so annoyed."
Wen Bairan looked away from the mirror, her gaze cold and unfamiliar as it fell on Ke Shumin’s name on the screen. "What are you trying to say?"
Ke Shumin detected the change in her tone and lowered her voice, dropping the earlier attitude. "I just wanted to ask—are you two really over? Zhou Lin might’ve played around before, but never this openly. Even Old Jiang was shocked. They just found out you two were having issues the day before yesterday, and today he shows up with someone new, all touchy-feely right in front of everyone. What does that mean for the future..."
She wanted to ask more but feared sounding too calculating. Pausing, she said, "It’s not like you two had some huge fight, right? Zhou Lin has really straightened up these past couple years; we’ve all seen it. As for marriage... people are all about not marrying these days anyway. Couldn’t you two just stay in a loving relationship? What does a piece of paper matter? Don’t you... think?"
Ke Shumin’s voice grew softer toward the end.
Having been friends with Wen Bairan for so long, she knew her temperament well. Wen Bairan might appear soft on the outside, but she was stubborn. The quieter she was about something, the more it meant her decision was irreversible.
An eerie silence stretched through the receiver.
Ke Shumin was feeling uneasy.
Suddenly, she heard a faint sound, like a keycard being swiped open a door.
A keycard...
She was on the verge of realizing something when Wen Bairan abruptly cut her off.
"I have nothing left to say to Zhou Lin. As for Jiang Shijin and the others, whatever history you have with them—or don’t—is none of my business."
Ke Shumin jumped. "No, Ran Ran, listen to me—"
"From now on, keep their business to yourself. I don’t want to know."
"Ran Ran..."
The executive suite’s bathroom was doorless, and a man’s face, hidden in the shadows of the hallway, appeared without warning in the mirror.
"I have things to do. I’m hanging up now."
Wen Bairan hung up and calmly looked at the reflection in the mirror.
Song Xu’s eyes were deep, a faint haze clouding between his brows.
He had been at a business dinner, had drunk some alcohol, and his suit jacket was draped over his arm. The bathroom light didn’t reach the darkness at the corners of his eyes.
Like a hungry wolf spotting its prey, he stared at her unblinking, a dark glow burning in his gaze.
Wen Bairan was unnerved by his stare and said flatly, "How much longer are you going to stare?"
In response, he tossed his jacket to the floor and walked in.
Step by step.
Slow and heavy.
Wen Bairan had thick, black hair that she had casually tied up before her bath. Now it was a little disheveled, with a few wispy strands loosened at the nape of her neck, unable to conceal her snow-white skin.
Facing the mirror, the light gave her face and lips a pallid glow, her only striking feature being her calm, starry eyes—bright and timeless.
Song Xu stopped behind her, lowered his head, and gently inhaled her damp, sweet scent.
Beside them, the un-drained bath was tinged with the vivid colors of roses and berries, intense and alluring.
Wen Bairan shivered at his breath on her skin, inhaling softly.
"Why didn’t you come this afternoon?" he asked in his CEO voice.
But the lips grazing the back of her neck belonged to Song Xu.
She stood stiffly, the small of her back tensed and deepening as if pushed by invisible hands. She leaned forward involuntarily, yet could still feel the cold buttons of his shirt digging into her.
"Didn’t feel like it."
"Why?"
"I met my ex-boyfriend."
As he questioned her, he casually made trouble behind her.
Song Xu’s kisses were like him—outwardly cool and detached, seemingly devoid of desire, yet in reality, blistering and overwhelming.
Their intimate encounters over the past two nights had made him keenly aware of every sensitive spot on Wen Bairan’s body.
She truly wondered if he really had no girlfriend.
Even if he didn’t now.
He must have had many in the past.
Perhaps those didn’t even count as girlfriends.
Otherwise, how could he so quickly master every sensitive spot on her body?
One touch, and she went up in flames.
"Hmm." Having soaked in the water for so long, her skin was tender. A blush spread up from her chest, and the poor red mole on her chest began to rise and fall with her breath.
Song Xu suddenly bit down harder, his teeth sinking deep.
Wen Bairan gasped in pain, "It hurts..."
He seemed not to hear, instead taking a tender patch of skin on her shoulder, his teeth worrying it repeatedly. "Rules."
What rules?
Weren’t they his idea in the first place?
With the hard marble counter in front and Song Xu’s inescapable presence behind, Wen Bairan had nowhere to escape.
Clenching her jaw, she held her ground, her lower abdomen still some distance from the sink. "Haven’t you also just entertained an old flame? We’re even."
She had seen all of Qiao Yi’s WeChat messages.
That Zhong Yu, whether a client or a classmate, had designs on Song Xu.
Even a blind person could see that.
Sensing his movements slow behind her, Wen Bairan pushed further. "CEO Song, the company’s future development rests on you."
She teased sarcastically, trying to turn around to face him, but the moment she raised her hips to push him away, she was subdued.
"Mmm..." The woman’s moan sounded like a mix of pain and pleasure.
The sudden impact left Wen Bairan struggling to catch her breath for a long moment.
Song Xu’s heavy panting washed over her, unreasonable and domineering. "One more rule."
"Shut your mouth."