Chapter 44: Subjectivity
That night.
The familiar suite.
The familiar night view.
The familiar Song Xu.
It felt like a long time since she had last been here.
The massive glass window framed the mesmerizing, dreamlike glow of the lights on both sides of the riverbank. Countless points of light swirled continuously with the undercurrents of the river, converging mid-air into condensed rings, each containing a miniature glowing sun within. The pure, fiery yellow light ascended, only to be dissipated by the cold air, scattering and bursting with a soft pop, splitting into more and more starlight.
The distant sky was full of it. The glass of the opposite skyscraper was full of it. The air was full of it.
Her eyes were also completely filled with it.
Wen Bairan leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, the warmth of her skin heating the cold glass into a fine mist that clung tightly to her pores.
Beads of moisture, whether sweat or tears, carried an indescribably alluring fragrance as they slid down along her jawline.
The glistening droplets gathered all the moonlight of the night, clinging to the tip of her chin, trembling and shimmering with intense, radiant flashes.
The man’s increasingly heavy breaths wandered beneath her collarbone until, finally, one droplet could no longer withstand his movements and fell.
It fell naturally, as if one could hear a muffled whimper of loss of control. The rushing wind hid the night’s dew in the darkness.
Pain. Pleasure. Impatience or tenderness. At times, Wen Bairan wished to be a bird in flight, a stream flowing through a valley. Soaring through the sky. Flowing through the valleys. Her soul detached from her body, looking down upon and yet experiencing everything on the ground.
So contradictory.
So exhilarating.
The falling bird dropped into the stream. Gravity vanished, and the water enveloped her, lifting her upward.
She had no understanding of this intense fusion, sensing it would be an extraordinary adventure, yet she instinctively pulled the man’s head closer.
"Song Xu..."
"Mm."
This was what made her feel most at ease with him.
No matter the time or how far they’d gone, she could always get a response from him.
She fell silent.
She just tightened her arms around him.
Her dependence molded softly against him.
Clearly, the man paused for a moment.
Song Xu never got distracted, his movements gradually slowing, driven by a fierce curiosity.
He wanted to understand what had caused that momentary pause.
Sex and love were two different things.
No one knew that better than him.
Sex was physical.
Where was *love*?
Human subjectivity about love was extraordinary.
How could love reside in the heart? If you cut it out, it’s just a piece of flesh that rhythmically contracts out of muscle memory.
Cut open the chest of a specimen, hold it, bloody, in your hands, and observe. There are no traces of love. Where is love?
He didn’t recall who had told him that one day, someone would also gut you.
He didn’t mind.
If possible, he even wanted to look on with this person, to see what shape his love took. Was it a sparkling diamond, a fragrant flower? Or perhaps a line of graves.
More likely, they’d find nothing at all.
Wen Bairan’s body was very warm, her scented sweat seeping into her pores, faintly reflecting the moonlight. Her delicate skin glowed with a moist radiance, turning increasingly slick.
Lower abdomen. Chest. Neck.
He kissed his way upward.
Leaving her even wetter.
His hand also moved up, feeling the beat of her heart.
Wen Bairan murmured, "...Be gentle."
He said, Let me see your *heart*.
"...How would you?"
Eyes. Hands. Mouth.
And heart.
Even though the two hearts within their bodies could only be seen through an X-ray, and so-called telepathy wasn’t scientifically proven.
But tonight was destined to be a subjective night.
For the first time, he felt curious about it.
Or perhaps not.
Sensing his unusual behavior, she wrapped her arms around him.
Wen Bairan gently brushed her lips against his.
"Song Xu..."
She whispered his name again.
Muffled in her mouth, unable to pass her teeth.
The metallic tang of his wound had formed an unyielding scab.
It was she who bit him.
He returned the favor with several deep purple hickeys.
He was never one to come out at a loss.
She asked him, "What is it?"
He was fine.
Couldn't be better.
He answered her with a wordless, sucking kiss.
Her detailed concern and soothing were like an adrenaline-filled stimulant straight to the heart.
The blood in his veins boiled instantly, the agitated, intense throbbing locked behind his sternum and pectoral muscles.
From a materialistic perspective, this was an exceedingly ingenious design.
Protection and concealment.
So is love also hidden somewhere in the same way?
Not in the heart.
Anywhere in the body.
Hands can love. Eyes can. The mouth too.
The way she relied on him—
Was that it?
Wen Bairan didn’t know what he was thinking, only sensing his movements suddenly became fierce.
The deeper an undersea earthquake, the less detectable it is.
Song Xu scooped her up with one arm, heading toward the bedroom while stripping off her last bit of covering. He kissed her madly.
Suggestive noises hovered in the dim room, echoing, lingering, refusing to fade...
/
Most of the night had passed.
Silence spread like smoke from the shadows.
Thin arms hung powerless over the edge of the bed, their jade-white skin and slim, white fingers almost grazing the floor.
She was completely unaware.
Wen Bairan pressed her cheek into the soft bed, her body feeling as if it had been taken apart and reassembled, an aching yet inexplicable satisfaction.
In the first half of the night, she had still been sane enough to struggle with him; in the second half, she was utterly at his mercy.
Song Xu acted like he’d taken the wrong pill today.
As if he wanted to pour all the pent-up frustration of these days into her, by the end, he no longer cared whether she cried or screamed.
The swelling, contracting pain and numbness in her lower abdomen wouldn’t fade anytime soon.
She didn’t dare move an inch.
She regretted it.
She never should have provoked him.
Wen Bairan clenched her eyes shut in annoyance, too exhausted even to furrow her brows.
The bathroom light was off, and the man’s figure approached without a sound in the dark.
Thinking she was asleep, he leaned over to hug her.
Before his arms could fully wrap around her, "Get away."
Her voice was raspy, a sob still stuck in her throat.
It sounded almost like a playful whine.
Song Xu paused, then continued to hold her.
She lay limp as a fish, and he pulled her into his embrace.
His large hand gently stroked her hair, a faint smile in his voice. "What, not giving up yet?"
"When did I ever surrender?"
"You forgot?"
"It’s fine, I can give you a hint."
He could recite every word of her pleas for mercy back to her now.
"......"
"Don’t say it!" Wen Bairan had no strength left elsewhere, so she could only nudge his chin with her head. He didn’t even flinch.
She opened her eyes in despair, her resentful gaze clearly warning that if he dared say a word, she would make him pay.
Song Xu’s eyebrows lifted slightly, an unconscious smile touching the corners of his eyes. He leaned down to peck her cheek. "Thought you were tougher than this."
His slightly doting tone probably wasn’t meant as mockery.
Whether it was or not didn’t matter.
Wen Bairan truly was no match for him.
She knew her limits.
The woman in his arms grew quiet, her faint breaths tickling his chest. Itchy.
He swallowed almost imperceptibly.
"Wen Bairan."
"......"
He called her name again.
Wen Bairan didn’t want to answer him.
Frankly, compared to the pressure when he called her by her full name, she would rather he kept calling her Vivi.
Song Xu had a talent for languages.
Paired with his voice like a cello, the unfamiliar Spanish rolled off his tongue with a lingering, almost tender tone.
It sounded gentle.
But not entirely.
It also carried a sense of detachment and indifference.
Anyone—she was sure anyone—would fall into an ambiguous, dizzy spell if called by him in such a tone.
Even without any expression, or even with just coldness, it still felt like being provoked.
As if it were all just her own fantasy.
Beyond the fantasy, this man had no heart or warmth inside.
Wen Bairan kept her eyes closed, feigning sleep, until her chin was gripped and lifted.
She still refused to open them.
As if her eyelids weighed a thousand pounds, she lacked the strength to lift them.
Silence.
Wen Bairan didn't feel him look away. Her chin had grown accustomed to the pressure of his hand, and the discomfort of being held had faded.
A long time passed, so long that she nearly fell asleep in that position. Only then did she quietly crack her eyelids open just a sliver. The darkness made everything blurry for a second, but the next second, she saw Song Xu’s face.
He was the most patient hunter, capable of lying in wait all night for his prey.
Locked on his target.
Waiting only for the right moment to strike with a fatal blow.
Meeting his deep, dark eyes, Wen Bairan jolted in surprise.
"......"
She instinctively tried to pull back.
But there was no escape.
In front of her was his intense gaze, behind her was his solid arm.
Song Xu himself was like a hunting net—once caught, it was hard to break free.
Wen Bairan began to regret again, regretting her greed for the comfort of his embrace.
She shrank back slightly, wanting to show weakness.
Song Xu didn’t give her the chance.
"I’m sleepy..."
"Have you figured it out?"
She paused.
It was a question.
She could sense Song Xu’s uncertainty about the answer.
He had moments of uncertainty too?
And about her, no less.
This was a rare sight.
She perked up a little. "Figured what out?"
Wen Bairan played dumb on purpose.
She wanted him to see right through it.
Song Xu saw through her act easily but still darkened his gaze. "I made myself very clear downstairs at your place."
Wen Bairan watched his slightly furrowed brows in the dim light, pressed her lips together, and sat up. "Since we’re on this topic, I have something to say too."
She got ready for a serious talk, and he sat up as well.
Both of them sat with their backs to the window, facing the shadows of the large wardrobe, unable to clearly see each other’s expressions.
"Have you ever thought about what it means for you to show up in front of my family without permission? Have you considered how to explain it to them? If I agree to be with you today, and one day we break up, how am I supposed to explain that then?"
She admitted she had been moved when Song Xu made the long trip to appear before her.
Deeply.
But that wasn’t enough to become love.
Wen Bairan frowned. "You want to be with me today, but what about tomorrow? The day after? Since we’ll have to part ways eventually, why make such a huge deal? I already have Zhou Lin giving me headaches—do you want to be the second?"
She drew her knees up, the thin white sheet tucked between her chest, stomach, and thighs. Seemingly troubled, she casually swept the hair hanging by her face back with her fingers. "Isn’t it fine the way it is now? You want me, I come over. We have our rendezvous here, just like before. Why can’t it stay that way? Fine, if that’s not enough for you, I have to tell you why I chose you."
They were very close; her pinky could even feel the pulse at his wrist. But his position kept him entirely shrouded in darkness.
Whether it was because she mentioned Zhou Lin or because she was being too blunt, all she could see was a cold, rigid line of Song Xu’s jaw below his left cheek.
The man’s tense shoulders looked like a mountain ready to collapse onto her at any moment.
She suddenly realized she had been constantly testing his limits.
Wen Bairan stopped, hesitating for a moment, but she still said it: "You’re such a cold person. I knew it from the first moment I saw you. You have no emotions. But that’s exactly what I need. The last eight years drained me of all my feelings. I need a partner who fits so well with me without me having to invest any emotions."
As her words fell, the atmosphere in the darkness clearly froze.
Song Xu’s presence sank deep into the ground.
She could barely feel it, yet she knew unmistakably that he was there.
She knew it made her sound despicable, but that was her honest thought at the time.
A person who could completely separate sex and love.
Someone who could have her body but wouldn’t demand her emotions.
She had completely severed all ties to her past.
Now, she had nothing left emotionally to give him.
The prolonged silence made her throat feel parched.
It was rare for Song Xu to go this quiet.
Perhaps he felt hurt, or perhaps he had finally seen her dark side and was completely disappointed in her.
There were too many possibilities, most of which would be devastating to their relationship.
But she had to make it clear to him—she wasn't the kind of person who could watch him sink deeper into this situation.
Besides, she had never hidden anything from Song Xu.
With him, Wen Bairan had shown every part of herself.
The positive and the negative; the gentle and the sharp; the calm and the out-of-control.
He had seen her bright side; he ought to see her dark side too.
Perhaps only by realizing she wasn't as otherworldly as he imagined would he come to his senses a little.
She lowered her eyes and changed to a more roundabout approach.
“Song Xu, I do like you. And I believe you like me too. You asked me to give you a role in my life, but aren’t you already part of it?”
Wen Bairan said, “At this stage, when we still have intense physical attraction and desire for each other, it’s natural to mistake it for something like love. But these hormone-driven feelings are too fragile. You might like me today, but tomorrow someone else might spark the same desire in you. As long as we keep this an open relationship, I won’t care who’s by your side. But if you take on a different role, I’ll grow jealous and possessive. When I’m besieged by all these negative emotions, will you help me?”
To be honest, even Zhong Yu’s presence wasn’t something she could tolerate.
But she endured it.
Why?
Because they were nothing to each other.
She couldn’t, and had no right to, demand anything from him.
Zhou Lin’s past philandering had already broken her heart. She had to protect herself and avoid any chance of getting hurt again.
She couldn’t accept a second heartbreak.
“You’re the lofty President Song, the object of countless women’s admiration. Wealth and status come easily to you. You’re already filled to the brim with these things. You don’t need my love, and you have no extra space for someone like me. You wouldn’t change for me on a whim. To you, people and their feelings are just a few programming glitches—you don’t even bother debugging them. How could I ever think I would be special?
“We both know that’s impossible.”
Wen Bairan was determined to lay all her cards on the table today. She held nothing back, nor did she need to.
Song Xu was mature; he could tell whether her intentions were good or bad.
She paused, then said softly, “Fundamentally, you’re no different from Zhou Lin.”
The only difference is that I loved him.
She left the latter part unspoken.
She had a feeling those words might bring unpredictable consequences.
She vaguely sensed that Song Xu might not be entirely unmoved by her.
But it was too slight.
Just like her own feelings of gratitude.
When both of them stayed in their own places, anything exchanged between them felt grateful and happy.
But when two people’s positions merged into one, anyone trying to take something away became unforgivable.
She had nothing left to give.
/
Dawn was approaching.
This emotional night was finally coming to an end.
Before leaving the suite, Wen Bairan knew it would likely be the last time she came here.
She looked out the living room window.
The heavy fog over the river shrouded everything.
Including that man.
Song Xu didn’t offer to see her out, nor did he say another word.
From the time before daybreak, he hadn’t spoken to her at all.
In the hazy morning light, the faint white smoke from his lips blended with the river fog, making his figure even more illusory.
Still superior and upright.
The desolation only flickered when Wen Bairan closed the door.
No one knew.