Chapter 20 Day Eight
Zhongzhan Mall was a great place, so great that everyone had come over the weekend.
Zhong Yu picked up a pair of leather charms shaped like little horses. "Xiao Wen, what do you think of these..."
Turning around, she noticed someone standing in front of Wen Bairan.
He appeared to be in his late twenties, tall with spiky hair, and carried an air of sophistication that clearly marked him as coming from a wealthy family.
He had jumped directly over from the adjacent sofa—a display of impressive agility.
Yet such fidgety agility seemed somewhat out of place in the upscale vibe of a luxury boutique.
His emotions were intense: his dark, bright eyes showed a mix of excitement, surprise, disappointment, guilt, and even a hint of fearful evasion.
He acted exactly like a guy whose long-distance girlfriend just caught him cheating—evasive and familiar in his hedging.
He asked Wen Bairan, "What are you doing here?"
Zhong Yu stepped forward curiously. "Xiao Wen, who is this?"
On the sofa, Wen Bairan rose gracefully, her expression calm and unreadable. "Ms. Zhong, President Song will be here soon."
She sidestepped both of their questions.
Her calm face was still pretty as she gave a slight smile toward Zhong Yu—a hollow gesture, nothing more than an empty imitation of a smile.
It didn't reach her eyes, nor did it come from the heart.
It felt like forever since Zhou Lin had last seen her.
Five days.
It felt like five years.
As if she'd completely forgotten he existed.
Her cold indifference made him furious.
His expression turned stormy.
As if afraid she would just walk away, he clenched Wen Bairan's hand and said in a low voice, "Wen Bairan, let's talk."
It was only when Su Yi saw his suddenly changed expression that she remembered—she was the woman from the café that day.
Zhou Lin's ex-girlfriend.
She'd heard they'd been together for eight years.
She understood what eight years meant to a woman.
But she understood even more that Zhou Lin had never once looked at her that way.
Tolerance, protectiveness, achingly deep longing, even a touch of apology.
How laughable.
A man as arrogant and domineering as him—since when did he feel sorry for anyone?
Wen Bairan was very thin, her arms so slender they seemed as if they would snap if pinched. Her soft, smooth skin felt just as extremely delicate to the touch. The slightest carelessness left red marks on her wrist.
Shocking to see.
She didn’t cry out in pain, nor did she ask him to let go.
Her eyes lifted indifferently, the stubbornness in them making Zhou Lin love and hate her at the same time.
She was always so stubborn, preferring to hide away and cry rather than show the slightest vulnerability to him.
He frowned, his displeasure evident.
Noticing this, Zhong Yu’s eyes darted cleverly, and she tactfully took half a step back, giving them space.
But unexpectedly, Zhou Lin didn’t escalate further.
None of the imagined physical struggles or verbal clashes occurred. All his emotions were bottled up but obvious.
Wen Bairan felt a little surprised.
It had only been a few days, and he seemed to have learned restraint.
Who had brought about this change in him?
Behind Zhou Lin, Su Yi’s face was pale in a way she recognized.
A long time ago, she seemed to have seen that same look in the mirror as well.
The color drained from her cheeks, like leaves abandoned in the wind, her heart adrift and uneasy, scared to land.
She stammered helplessly, hoping Zhou Lin would glance back at her.
Watching Su Yi’s tear-filled eyes, Wen Bairan felt a wave of sympathy.
Where Zhou Lin’s heart lay couldn’t be won back by tears alone.
At a time like this, whether she stepped forward or not would mean admitting defeat.
With a slight twist of her arm within Zhou Lin’s grasp, Wen Bairan freed herself without much effort.
She had to point out to him, “Your girlfriend is watching.”
“I don’t care who’s watching!” Without her warmth, Zhou Lin felt empty.
His voice rose again, the storm in his eyes seeming on the verge of breaking.
He gripped her shoulders tightly, as if he wanted to crush her. “Wen Bairan, don’t look at me with that expression! Do you have any idea how I’ve suffered these past few days? Why haven’t you called me even once? I don’t understand—are you really that heartless? After all these years of feelings, can we not even be friends? Fine, even if you treat me like a stranger—if you can really treat me like a stranger. Why won’t you look at me?”
He couldn’t stand Wen Bairan’s calm, detached demeanor, as if nothing mattered and everything was in the past. But it wasn’t!
“What are you afraid of? Huh? Scared you’ll break? Afraid I’ll see that you’ve been missing me too?”
“Ran Ran, look up. Look up at me and say it right to me—”
“You, Wen Bairan.”
“Don’t miss me at all.”
His low voice was rough, like sandpaper.
The coarse voice grated against her eardrums, a jagged, suffocating sensation shooting through her head.
After all the time they had spent together, he knew exactly how to drive the knife deeper into her heart.
Of course, she couldn’t treat him as a stranger.
How could she possibly treat him as a stranger?
Restraint and composure were nothing but illusions.
Zhou Lin was still the same as ever.
He was heedless of the setting.
He disregarded the timing.
He cared for no one else.
Wen Bairan was jostled so roughly she almost blacked out, her brows knitting slightly as her face turned paler than paper.
The throbbing pain at her temples and the dizziness left her momentarily speechless.
Her ears buzzed with tinnitus, a crushing pressure expanding relentlessly.
Nausea churned in her stomach.
Most staff at luxury retailers were well-trained.
They stood quietly to the side, reducing themselves to air, hoping the customers wouldn’t turn their anger on them the next second.
But Wen Bairan wished someone would step in and rescue her.
Anyone would do.
Just take her away from this place—she didn’t want to be sick in front of everyone.
She couldn’t focus at all; the moment she tried, she felt on the edge of collapse.
Out of the corner of her eye, Wen Bairan saw Su Yi cover her mouth not far away, two tears of disbelief rolling down her cheeks before she turned and ran out without looking back.
Song Xu, who had just come up from the underground garage, was only three steps from the entrance when the girl suddenly rushed out and crashed directly into him.
Her tear-streaked face briefly caught his attention.
He gallantly steadied her, his concerned voice carrying into the store.
"Are you alright?"
Zhong Yu, who had been maintaining her spectator's pose, worried that things would become even more awkward when he entered, stepped forward to intervene for Wen Bairan. "Xiao Wen, and you... sir, perhaps you could take your conversation elsewhere? Her supervisor is here. It wouldn’t be good for him to see this."
She worded it diplomatically.
But Zhou Lin wouldn’t listen to her.
Damn her supervisor, damn her job—none of it mattered in his eyes.
He only wanted Wen Bairan.
Zhou Lin fixed his gaze on her, and when he noticed her pained expression, his hold slackened.
After all, he couldn’t bear to truly hurt her.
The dark, burning intensity in his eyes made Wen Bairan’s heart sour with anguish.
She knew his nature better than anyone.
Once he decided on something, he never changed.
If she didn’t give him an answer today, even if it meant clearing out the entire mall, he wouldn’t let her walk out that door.
Outside the store, Song Xu handed Su Yi a gray-and-white checkered handkerchief.
She could almost smell his scent on it.
Dry, steady, and distant.
The shop window was polished to near-invisibility, and at that moment, all Song Xu had to do was turn his head to see everything happening inside.
It felt as though her nerves were sliced and reattached, her heart suddenly began quaking uncontrollably.
She couldn’t tell whether she was afraid of Song Xu seeing Zhou Lin or Zhou Lin noticing Song Xu.
In any case, she had only one thought.
They must not meet.
Calmness gradually receded, replaced by panic.
Wen Bairan finally became desperate.
She mastered her frustration, trying to sound as gentle as possible. "I’m entertaining a client. Can we talk about this later, please?"
Zhou Lin frowned. "What client is more important than me?"
"Please." She didn’t explain, her voice trembling.
Her cold hand suddenly gripped his tense wrist on her shoulder, her faintly reddened eyes pleading.
Zhou Lin started violently.
In a voice only the two of them could hear, she said:
"A Lin."
"Please, don’t put me in this position."
Song Xu’s gallantry was time-bound.
/
He wasn’t particularly willing to expend excessive attention on a stranger.
After giving her the handkerchief and a few consoling words, the girl still couldn’t stop crying.
He could only suggest she go home first to avoid squandering her day here.
Perhaps unaccustomed to such frankness, the girl looked up in surprise, her dewy, almond-shaped eyes swollen from crying. Seeing the detachment in his demeanor, devoid of any pity, she sobbed more bitterly.
Song Xu hesitated momentarily. Not because of her tears, but because her eyes evoked someone's likeness.
Inside the display window, Wen Bairan’s figure looked as thin as a sheet of paper. Her gray sleeveless top clung tightly to her slender frame, her slender waist slightly bent as she hugged her arms tightly. The slightly loosened bun at the nape of her neck resembled a large black dahlia. Even on the verge of wilting, her distressed beauty was heart-stopping.
Zhong Yu patted her back gently, seemingly saying something with a worried expression.
Song Xu’s brow furrowed slightly.
What had happened?
At that moment, a person came out of the store.
Without clearly seeing their face, the person hurried away in the opposite direction from which he had come.
The crying girl, seeing him come out, immediately stopped her tears and hurried after him.
"Zhou Lin, wait for me!"
Song Xu passed by her, both of their steps hurried.
Inside the store, Wen Bairan had just fixed her expression when Song Xu arrived by her side.
"Sorry, it seems I’m late."
His eyes were intense, looking down from above. Wen Bairan instinctively averted her face.
The intent to avoid was clear.
She seemed to have been crying.
Red streaks, like from tears, marked her cheek.
Song Xu shot a subtle glance at Zhong Yu.
The latter shook her head, signaling him not to ask.
"You came just in time. We’re already done here," Zhong Yu said with feigned lightness, stepping forward to show off the pair of charms she had just had her eye on. "What do you think of these?"
"I originally intended to give them to you, but Xiao Wen spent the whole day with me today, so it’s better to give them to her instead. What do you say?" She held the charms next to Wen Bairan’s arm. The classic orange pony charm made her skin appear even fairer.
Song Xu said, "Not bad."
He was unusually agreeable rather than indifferent.
Without waiting for Wen Bairan to refuse or agree, he placed another white winged pony charm on the counter. "Are there any others? Let’s check out together. I’ve got it."
Wen Bairan knew he was looking at her.
His look was heavy, filled with inquiry and a subtle hint of comfort.
He didn’t ask. He didn’t say anything.
He simply held her in his deep, ocean-like gaze.
Warm.
Her heart shriveled in this moisture, faint cracks starting to form.
She felt even more upset.
"Since President Song is here, I’ll take President Zhong’s purchases to the car and head back first," Wen Bairan said, glancing at the pile of shopping bags at her feet. She bent down to pick them up one by one, with some effort.
But it was enough to hide the odd tone in her voice.
Zhong Yu pretended to be surprised. "Aren’t you joining us for dinner?"
"No, I have something else to do. I won’t disturb the two of you during your meal." After speaking, she nodded slightly and turned to leave.
As she passed Song Xu, Wen Bairan almost instinctively looked up.
One of the display lights in the store happened to be right above his head.
Silhouetted, his aloof face was wrapped in a fuzzy haze, surrounded by a rainbow halo.
His dark eyes pierced through that halo and met hers.
Half in light, half in shadow.
A quick flash.
Wen Bairan bit her lip involuntarily, lowered her head, and quickened her pace to leave.
Song Xu narrowed his eyes.
She was very different today.
Hard to describe.
Fragile, wounded.
Even a look hurt her.
Why was she like this?
"She’s in a bad mood. Earlier, her boyfriend was here shopping with his mistress, and the three of them ran into each other," Zhong Yu said.
Song Xu’s look returned from the elevator where Wen Bairan had disappeared, his brow furrowing. "Boyfriend?"
"Yes," Zhong Yu said, glancing at the charm he had just placed on the counter, as if hinting at something. "She said they broke up, but I could tell there are still feelings between them. Maybe they were just having a quarrel. Before you arrived, they almost got into an argument. Young people, after all, pursue passion in relationships. But her boyfriend seems a good match—just a bit quick-tempered, though he listens to Xiao Wen. When she told him to leave, he left. Who would’ve thought? Xiao Wen is beautiful, has a great figure, and is quite skilled in relationships too. Oh, by the way, you must have seen them—the girl who bumped into you while crying, and the one who followed her out was Xiao Wen’s boyfriend."
She deliberately reminded him, but Song Xu didn’t remember.
In his memory, there was only a reckless, unruly figure.
Unrestrained, hard to control.
Zhou Lin?
"I didn’t notice," he said.
"Oh, you were probably paying attention to Xiao Wen at the time," Zhong Yu looked up, her glasses reflecting light, sharp and bright. "Did you think she was crying?"
Song Xu’s deep eyes darkened almost imperceptibly. "Was she crying?"
"No, she’s tough."
Zhong Yu smiled, seeming somewhat impressed by her. "Honestly, I quite admire her. She keeps her cool under pressure. What about you?"
Song Xu remained silent.
Zhong Yu’s smile tightened, and she asked half-jokingly, "Song Xu, you’re not into her, are you?"