Chapter 49 Insight
Lingang Harbor.
Two figures locked in an intimate embrace on the moonlit sofa.
The abrupt ring of a phone cut through the moment.
It was Ding Benxuan.
His persistence seemed inexhaustible, fueled by boundless energy.
Wen Bairan moved to hang up, but her hand was caught midway.
Both wrists pinned firmly in his grip, he pushed them above her head without explanation.
The humiliating, insecure position made her struggle constantly. "Let me go."
Her body was soft, legs thrashing wildly.
The man ignored her completely, pinning her legs with one knee while planting the other on the floor. He straightened up, freeing one hand to grab the glowing phone from the coffee table.
He glanced at the time on the screen.
Instantly, his eyes turned ice-cold.
He pushed the incoming call toward her face.
"At this hour?"
"He’s still calling you."
Wen Bairan flinched at the phone’s glare, her dazed gaze trailing up his arm.
Pale skin, cold brows, bottomless eyes.
A man who never showed excess emotion, his dark desire overflowing with possessiveness, flowing out like lava, making her recoil from the heat.
She completely forgot he still held her phone. The ambiguous haze surrounding them, his overpowering masculine scent drowned everything else.
Wen Bairan suddenly stopped struggling.
"Song Xu."
As if testing his hearing, she called his name in a deeply seductive whisper.
Feeling the pressure on her legs intensify, Song Xu’s dangerous, mountain-like presence loomed over her at any moment.
Yet she didn’t shrink away.
There was no point—she couldn’t move anyway.
He had her pressure points completely immobilized.
Copying him, she narrowed her eyes, carefully searching for undetectable changes on his face.
She relished how he grew increasingly tense under her false, searching gaze.
She had gained the upper hand.
"Such strong possessiveness—it's not like you at all."
Wen Bairan laughed softly.
In the wild, prey discovering recent footprints in a deserted place would immediately recognize a trap.
But instead of fleeing, she calmly paced around, as if intending to follow the scent to the hunter’s hiding spot.
Unbeknownst to her, her calm provocation had already angered the eyes that had lain in wait for three days and nights.
She pushed recklessly onward, "Do you really like me?"
Restrained for too long, her hands were going numb.
Her eyes remained alluring.
A hint of innocence, unsure how he would react after her next words.
Wen Bairan’s mouth felt dry. She licked her lips, gathering courage to ask, "How much do you like me?"
"More than you like Little Ding?"
The moment the words left her mouth, she was suddenly hauled upward.
She cried out, "Ugh—that hurts!"
Caught off guard, Wen Bairan felt herself lifted and then immediately went limp.
The edge of the sofa was too slippery. Kneeling on her feet, she instinctively braced against the man’s solid waist, only then realizing she had been released.
Before she could process it, Song Xu seized her neck, forcing her to look up.
His stance pinned her in a position where she couldn’t fall, but he was too tall. Even craning her neck, she could barely reach him.
It felt like her neck might snap.
Swallowing grew difficult, breathing too.
But he wanted her to suffer.
Clutching the nape of her neck, he held her like a dead rabbit, forcing her to accept his claim.
The kiss was so deep she lost all sensation.
Wen Bairan was completely miserable, pummeling his waist, but he wouldn't accommodate her.
To relieve her discomfort, she had to hold onto him and straighten up as much as possible.
She compromised, and his hold eased in response.
The kiss began to change.
Still domineering.
But slower now.
Wen Bairan felt like his kiss was suffocating her.
He was so intense.
He was so fierce it frightened her a little.
Her trembling fingertips clutched his shirt as she opened her eyes.
His face was too close, his eyes like two pitch-black voids.
She couldn’t see anything.
A surge of panic made her heart feel like it was about to leap out of her chest.
The instinctive swallowing reflex made her frown in distress.
“Mmph! Mmph!” Her ears turned red as she whimpered, wanting to stop.
Whether he understood or not, his long arm wrapped firmly around her waist, hard as iron. Tightening.
The next second, Wen Bairan felt herself lifted clear off the ground.
Her heart hammered.
!!!!
She gasped, but her voice was swallowed by his intensity.
Her hands quickly wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.
Song Xu was holding her up with one arm.
He turned and headed upstairs.
His strength was terrifying.
The adrenaline rush made her even wetter.
She finally managed to turn her face away, slumping weakly against his shoulder to catch her breath.
After a few breaths, he dropped her onto the bed.
The Simmons mattress was firm, barely cushioning her fall; the impact left her dazed for a second.
When she recovered and looked at the person by the bed, she froze.
The second-floor space was small, and when Song Xu straightened up completely, he nearly brushed the ceiling.
With one hand, he yanked his tie loose, knelt down, and planted his other hand next to her head. The enormous shadow that followed pressed her down involuntarily, pinning her to the bed.
“How do you measure liking?”
“Show me.”
He said.
This... how was she supposed to show him?
With what?!
She had just said it without thinking; he didn’t need to take it so literally......
Wen Bairan tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry.
All the moisture in her body had gathered in one place; she felt utterly parched.
“I was joking...” She tried timidly to shrink away from him, but her legs felt useless. She could only prop herself up on her elbows and scoot back inch by inch.
“I wasn’t joking.”
Wen Bairan was stunned by the wildness in his eyes, “......”
In that dazed moment, he swiftly tugged off his tie.
The tie was soft but strong,
cool to the touch,
ideal for tying someone’s hands.
It wouldn’t hurt,
there’d be no breaking free.
It wouldn’t leave marks if he was careful.
By the time Wen Bairan realized what was happening, her hands were already bound to the headboard.
She looked up in shock, only catching a glimpse of the sliver of moonlight through the window.
The man before her was a stranger.
Goosebumps rose on her skin, her body trembled uncontrollably.
The danger she sensed from him now was a hundred times greater than downstairs.
She felt like a lamb awaiting slaughter.
Overwhelmed by terror, the complex hormones surging inside her gave her a faint, thrilling buzz.
Tears welled in her eyes, unblinking, as she watched him, unsure what he would do next.
Song Xu seemed born for the darkness.
His infant-like long eyelashes cast deep gray shadows under his eyes, and the intense, unreadable darkness in his gaze seethed with a storm that felt apocalyptic.
Wen Bairan had never experienced anything like this; her mind went utterly blank, as if her very soul were caged.
“Song Xu, you’re scaring me...”
The shards of moonlight under the curtains illuminated the tear tracks by her temples, and his dark expression faltered for a second.
He used his thumb to smudge the makeup from her cheeks.
Wen Bairan’s lips were soft, as soft and yielding as pudding.
He liked it when she kissed him with those lips.
Her lipstick was smeared beyond her lip line, blurring into a stark red that glared back at him.
His breath caught.
His intense gaze darkened abruptly.
Song Xu detested this feeling of things spinning out of his control.
The words "out of control" had never existed in his dictionary.
Yet, meeting her had sent so many things off the rails, defying all his calculations.
Like, for instance.
In the break room, her smile was bright and sunny.
A paper rose?
Hah.
Just child's play.
But she had giggled with such delight.
The shadows over him deepened.
His grip grew rougher, more demanding.
Wen Bairan began to cry, pleading with him to stop.
She said, "Song Xu, don’t do this, you're hurting me."
Wen Bairan truly possessed a unique allure—no, a kind of magic.
Sometimes soft, other times tough.
Innocent one moment, seductive the next.
Her tearful voice was so pitiful it broke your heart, yet her eyes remained fixed on him, as if inviting him.
He gradually felt that something he had always held firmly in his grasp was slipping from his grasp, drifting toward her.
A web of invisible threads winding tighter around him.
"Don’t be afraid."
"I won’t hurt you."
He was lost in this strange, new sensation.
But the intense obsession on his face made the words utterly unconvincing.
Wen Bairan flinched away.
The next moment, he bent down over her.
His voice, deep and resonant as a cello, was like a demon whispering in the late autumn night.
"But you do deserve to be taught a lesson."
"Vivi."
He called her that again.
As if it were some kind of private joke between them.
He rolled the name off his tongue, saying it with such tenderness.
He brushed a kiss against her lips as comfort.
An apology for what was to come all night.
Wen Bairan trembled, crying into his neck.
He gently stroked her hair and said:
"I won’t make comparisons, but you can tell me—who,"
"made you feel better?"
……
The male competitive streak is a strange thing.
It knows no time, no place, and doesn’t even care whether the other person is thinking about comparisons.
They stubbornly insist on figuring out who’s better.
Wen Bairan had never brought up Zhou Lin to Song Xu before.
Not out of taboo or worry, but simply because she had no interest in sharing those stories with anyone.
Naturally, Song Xu had never asked.
She thought it was their unspoken agreement—to avoid digging into each other’s pasts, but to simply enjoy their nights together, ambiguous as they were.
But only today did she realize this was just her assumption.
Song Xu’s silence was built upon already being aware of every thought in her mind.
In a momentary lull, he said to her, "It never crossed my mind that you’d accept Ding Benxuan."
Wen Bairan’s mind was a jumbled mess, and she automatically asked why.
He replied, "Because he’s very much like Zhou Lin."
She went still.
Young and passionate souls, eyes full of fire and passion.
Her usually calm heart only raced under such heat.
But unfortunately.
The last time it boiled, she got scorched.
"You’re not as calm as you pretend to be. Your selfishness is buried deep down."
"Vivi, you have to admit—in that way, we’re very much alike."
Proud, aloof, with pride so strong they avoid any chance of being hurt.
The beauty of young campus love is that neither person knows the future would turn into something so irrevocably ugly.
She had fought and held on in the ways she could, but in the end, she decided to leave it behind.
Dignity isn't an accessory for her, but a necessity.
Xiao Ding is good.
His unworldly transparency helps avoid a lot of unnecessary trouble. With her current mindset and methods, dealing with him is effortless.
It's just too bad.
Her heart has limited space.
Zhou Lin may no longer exist in her life now, but forever—she will always remember the one who hurt her the deepest, for the longest time.
So long until that part of her is flattened by someone else's footsteps.
Not by retracing his footsteps all over again.
After listening, Wen Bairan couldn't calm down for a long time.
This was why she never thought Ding Benxuan and Song Xu resembled each other.
Apart from their facial features, their intelligence, way of thinking, and temperament were worlds apart.
Those who thought they were similar simply hadn't met Zhou Lin.
Zhou Lin at twenty.
How he looked when she loved him most.
Occasionally reappearing on the twenty-three-year-old Ding Benxuan.
She had always had many regrets.
Regretting that she should have chosen not to begin from the very beginning.
Just like how she rejected Ding Benxuan now.
This thought might be unfair to him, so she silently permitted his advances again.
She felt despicable.
Everyone was deceived by her calm and flawless exterior, except Song Xu.
In their repeated couplings, they entered each other physically and mentally.
Flipping through, inspecting,
spreading everything out under the moonlight.
Clear.
Unclear.
In a moment’s thought, grasping each other's weaknesses.
This dark connection invisibly drew the two closer.
The information he pieced together from her snippets was enough for him to construct an almost complete past for her.
Song Xu’s keen insight inspired both awe and unease in her.
Like Li Yuan, he had the ability to see through people.
But Li Yuan was a brother, a friend.
Seeing through was just seeing through.
But with Song Xu?
She didn’t want, and couldn’t allow herself to stand completely uncovered before him.
Bare emotions easily become unbalanced, and she could fall at any moment.
So she clutched firmly at his weaknesses.
“Since you already know everything, why are you working so hard?” Wen Bairan said.
Her ability to regain her composure instantly was another alluring quality.
Song Xu affectionately kissed her eyes, nose, and ears.
“Making love.”
“Making it into love.”
You love me.
Or,
I love you.
Wen Bairan almost lost herself in his labyrinth, pressing her toes against his thigh to stop him from coming closer. “...That’s not an answer, Song Xu.”
She laughed softly.
She could distinguish certainty or doubt from his aura.
As long as she knew he didn't yet fully hold her, it was enough.
No one wants to remain forever in the passive role.
Weapons cannot hide their lethal intent.
Wound each other, then treat the wounds.
Perhaps this method is fair to all.
She unwound the tie from her hands and coiled it around her wrist.
Reaching out, she grasped his shoulders and pushed down.
Turning over to be on top.
Under the moonlight, her body gleamed, tempting the hunter to lower his weapon.
They appreciated each other.
Checked each other.
Fell deeply for one another.
The tie already carried the warmth of her pulse; next, he ought to savor it in the darkness.
The moment his eyes were covered, Song Xu plunged into another realm.
Her ragged breaths guided him as he lowered his head to accept her kiss.
"Song Xu, I won't be crying by myself anymore."
"If there must be pain, then you're going to suffer with me."
The gulp in his throat was like a stone breaking the surface of a lake.
"Fine."
...