Chapter 40: How Infuriating
Wen Qianming searched the neighborhood twice but still couldn't find his daughter.
He called her—the first two calls went unanswered.
The third call finally went through, but the voice on the other end sounded strange.
"Hello? Ran Ran? Where have you run off to? I’m waiting for you at the south gate."
"Dad... I have something to do. You go back first... uh, I bumped into a colleague..."
"Hey, what did you say? Ran Ran......"
The call ended, and the screen showed "Call failed."
Just as Lao Wen was about to call again, he received a message from Wen Bairan on WeChat.
[Ran Ran]: I’ll be home later.
Just those few words, with no context or explanation.
Worried, Lao Wen tried calling a few more times, but this time, no one answered at all.
"It’s so late—what colleague meets this late?" he muttered suspiciously to himself.
Not far away, a pure black DBX lay hidden in the night.
Moonlight draped a silvery sheen over the car’s elegant, streamlined body. In the silence, the sound of a vibrating phone inside the car was barely audible.
[Lao Wen]: It’s too late. Be careful on your own.
[Lao Wen]: I’ll go upstairs first. Let me know before you come back, and I’ll come pick you up.
In the passenger seat, Song Xu hauled her up with one hand. Wen Bairan’s body, limp as a fish, was easily maneuvered into straddling him.
Without any warning, the sudden thrust brought tears to her eyes.
"Mmph!"
Her lit phone slipped from her hand, hit the center console, and slid into the gap between the seats.
Instantly, even the last bit of light vanished.
Song Xu gave her no chance to catch her breath, expertly teasing every nerve in her body.
The silence from their phone call earlier in the day was now returned with even greater intensity.
In the dimly lit car, Wen Bairan desperately covered her mouth, afraid even the slightest sound might escape.
The moonlight outside the rear window was cool like water. Struggling to prop herself up, she hadn't had time to see if anyone was still at the entrance of the complex when unbearable tears slid from the corners of her eyes into her hair. The man’s fingers wove into her hair, holding her in place as he pressed her down for another kiss.
It wasn’t until her mouth went numb and she could barely breathe, until the last bit of oxygen in her lungs was drained, that he finally slowed down.
"Didn’t you like being on top?"
"What are you crying for?"
Song Xu turned his head and gently kissed away the tear stains beneath her eyes, yet his invasion continued to seep deeper.
Exhausted, Wen Bairan lay panting heavily against his shoulder. She subconsciously squirmed, and her back was immediately pressed tightly against him.
He warned her sharply, "Don’t move."
She held her breath instantly.
It had been a while since they’d last been together, and both were acutely sensitive, on the verge of losing control.
Afraid that the slightest movement might undo their control, they remained locked in this stalemate for the moment.
The seatback slowly reclined, and the way he held her left not an inch between them.
The street was empty at half past midnight.
Time seemed to stand still.
Wen Bairan had never experienced such an open setting before. She couldn’t tell whether tension or shame was stronger—her senses were amplified infinitely, to the point where she could even feel the throbbing of blood vessels inside her.
Feeling herself sinking deeper, she fearfully wrapped her arms around his neck and listened to his low chuckle in her ear.
"You just wanted me to come find you, didn’t you?"
'No, I didn’t!'
"I didn’t ask you to come..." Her voice came out hoarse and barely audible.
She hadn’t made a sound, yet all her pleasure and pain were stuck in her throat. Intermittent, faint gasps forced her to tilt her head back.
Song Xu then nuzzled into her again, kissing the small mole at the center of her collarbone.
A tiny crimson mole, unable to withstand the friction of his lips and tongue, seemed to shimmer and plead for mercy in the narrow space.
Luxury cars often lack space despite their price. The cramped front seat left almost no room for escape.
"Song Xu..." she whimpered in distress.
He had been holding back for a long time.
His controlled, deep breaths grew heavier, reaching their limit.
Wen Bairan flinched instinctively at his scorching heat.
The man let out a low groan in the darkness.
Wen Bairan climaxed immediately after.
......
/
It was over.
The car was still filled with a lingering scent of sex. As the window rolled down, the cool night air slowly dissipated the warmth.
Song Xu returned to the driver’s seat—his trench coat had been casually tossed into the back earlier.
His cigarettes were in his pocket.
He leaned over to retrieve them.
When he turned back, Wen Bairan, who had been bending down to pick up her phone, straightened up at the same time he did.
The distance separated by the center console of this car was even greater than that of the Volvo, but the eyes of those who had just been intimate were still intertwined with thick, unbroken tension, inadvertently tangling together and stuck together.
Song Xu’s eyes were like the deep night sea, and within his boundless gaze, her flickering glance was the only moon.
Wen Bairan’s chest suddenly tightened.
It felt as though someone had squeezed her heart—his gradually spreading smile was the command, and the irregular, intense, rapid contractions followed his lead.
He leaned in, kissed her by the corner of her mouth.
Light as a dragonfly’s touch.
Yet it left behind ripples of lingering tenderness.
Rippling outward.
Song Xu leaned back against the seat and asked her once more, “Mind if I smoke?”
Her eyelashes trembled unconsciously.
Wen Bairan snapped out of it, looked away, and pretended her heart hadn’t raced a moment earlier.
“Up to you.” She lowered her head to look at her phone.
Wen Qianming had texted her after getting home to say he’d arrived safely.
Old Wen was already sixty-five this year.
He had waited so long in the chilly night wind, and a wave of guilt made Wen Bairan restless.
Had he doubted that phone call earlier—how should she explain it when she got back?
“How did you introduce me?” Song Xu suddenly asked.
Wen Bairan was startled and raised her eyes to look at him.
He rested his elbow on the window, squinting slightly as he eyed her screen. The faint bitterness of tobacco mixed with the scent in his car created a sense of calm that soothed her body and mind.
“Colleague?” He gave a low chuckle, recalling how she had described him during the call.
It wasn’t self-mockery, nor did it seem like sarcasm.
Song Xu’s voice was cold, sounding more like a threat.
Wen Bairan sensed he was a little annoyed, but so what? She had told the truth.
She put away her phone and said flatly, “What, is ‘colleague’ beneath you? Then next time I’ll say you’re my boss. Is that better?”
Song Xu’s dark eyes glinted dangerously, a threatening air drifting over with the smoke before quickly dissipating in the night breeze.
“You were cuter the way you were earlier,” he said meaningfully.
Earlier...
How dare he bring up earlier!
Earlier, before she could even react, he had pulled her into the car.
Wen Bairan’s face warmed; thankfully, the car was dark enough that he didn’t see her momentary blush.
“What am I like now?” she asked indifferently.
“Now?”
Song Xu clenched the cigarette between his teeth, his squinting expression as though he were chewing her out, muttering, “Infuriating.”
“......”
Alright, alright.
She’d asked for that.
Since that was the case, she might as well be infuriating, then.
“I’m going back. Suit yourself, President Song.” As Wen Bairan spoke, her hand reached for the car door, but with a click, the door locked.
She paused but didn’t turn around.
Instead, she leaned back against the seat, gazing ahead at the dark street.
Coldly, she asked, “Is there anything else?”
Her expression and tone now were completely different from how she had been ten minutes earlier—soft against him, calling his name.
Song Xu had never seen someone switch off so fast.
He let out a frustrated laugh. “I came looking for you. What do you think?”
Wen Bairan was startled. “...You came to find me?”
Song Xu: “What else?”
When Wen Bairan saw him under the streetlight, she had indeed wondered if he had come specifically for her.
But it was only a fleeting thought.
Soon, the idea was dismissed.
He was so consistently distant that she couldn’t imagine him capable of such an emotional gesture.
He simply had no emotions.
Besides, P&t had just been established, and there was plenty to do.
After securing several major deals in a row, Song Xu had been swamped with work.
Even when she was in Shenjiang, they hadn’t had time to meet. How could he possibly have come for her now?
She refused to get her hopes up again.
“I’m still thinking about it,” she said lightly.
Song Xu: “Considering what?”
“Joining your company.”
She knew P&t was taking off quickly. With him at the helm, the company’s future development looks bright.
There were just some things she couldn’t figure out.
Song Xu was meticulous, detail-oriented, and deeply calculating—traits perfectly suited for navigating the business world but not necessarily for interpersonal relationships.
She couldn’t read him.
Perhaps no one in this world could.
Whether in work or in his personal life, his approach was to issue commands and notifications, not to negotiate, and certainly not to seek anyone’s opinion.
The closest he'd ever come to negotiation was when he asked if he could smoke.
Actually, that was nothing significant.
If all he needed was a compliant subordinate who followed his every instruction, that would certainly be the most efficient approach.
But is that all?
She didn’t know.
Some of the things he had said had confused her.
It felt like there was more to him, but she couldn’t pinpoint what more.
Wen Bairan made herself calm down and create distance to see things clearly.
Both professionally and personally, she needed a reason that would satisfy her own doubts.
“Why are you so set on having me?”
The dark leather interior of the car had a subtle sheen under the moonlight, so faint it was almost unnoticeable.
In the silence, Song Xu watched her expression grow calm, his brows furrowing slightly.
He murmured, “You don’t trust me.”
“How could I?” The moment these words left her mouth, Wen Bairan suddenly wanted to drop the subject.
Perhaps it was because she felt they barely had a relationship yet, and talking about trust now seemed premature.
Or perhaps she had already presupposed an answer in her heart and was subconsciously avoiding it.
In the end, neither possibility appealed to her.
The depths in his eyes were too great; she no longer had the energy to figure anything out.
Turning her face away, Wen Bairan rubbed her aching temples and said softly, “Never mind, it’s late. Let’s talk tomorrow.”
“Did you get a room?” she asked.
Song Xu didn’t speak.
“There’s a Westin nearby. Let’s go there.”
As she spoke, she buckled her seatbelt.
“Drive.”
The next moment, his voice and the engine came to life simultaneously.
“You’re asking the wrong person.”
Song Xu’s tone was surprisingly not as sharp as she had imagined.
Wen Bairan was slightly taken aback and turned to look.
The lit console reflected the cold, sharp features of the man beside her.
He looked at her with a patient look.
“The one who isn’t clear-headed is you.”
“But it’s fine, there’s still time.”
…