Chapter 56: Teeth Marks
There was something off about Song Xu today.
Very off.
Wen Bairan could sense something entirely different in his every move and every breath.
It used to be purely carnal desire, an animalistic instinct.
Tonight, there was something more.
She couldn’t quite articulate it.
It seemed to make him uncomfortable, and it made her suffer along with him.
The bathwater had long gone cold.
But the man beneath her was still burning up.
Waves churned violently around her waist. Wen Bairan, pinned down unbearably, braced against his chest and pleaded for him to stop. "Song Xu, I can’t... not like this...... Song Xu, mmm—!"
The man gripped her jaw, tilting her face up to kiss her. His tall body slid out of the water, the splashing droplets falling like a curtain concealing their shifting positions.
The threat of suffocation nearly overwhelmed her as the water covered her face. It felt as though he was intent on driving her to the edge. He gripped her neck, pushing her deeper into the water, his onslaught growing fiercer with each wave. Alarm bells went off in Wen Bairan’s mind. She hooked her legs around his waist, using her core strength to push herself up, but waves of deep ache and contraction in her lower abdomen quickly sapped her strength.
Her resistance lasted only a second before her upper body collapsed back down. The roar of water filled her ears, drowning her senses. The deep, penetrating thrusts underwater made her cry out instinctively, but she forgot she was still underwater and choked on water violently.
In her panic, her hands flailed wildly in the air. Song Xu reacted swiftly; he scooped her up and draped her over his shoulder.
As if sensing her fright, he rubbed her back reassuringly.
"Cough, cough—cough, cough, cough!"
It all happened too fast. The expected suffocation never came, but the water invading her trachea and nasal passages was agony enough. Slung over his shoulder, Wen Bairan coughed uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face.
"Song... Song Xu! You... you bastard!"
She cursed him between coughs, furious and feeling wronged. "Are you trying to kill me?!"
"Kill you?" He chuckled lowly in her ear, so infuriatingly taunting she wanted to tear his mouth off. "Mm, you guessed right."
"You—!" She was so angry she felt her lungs might explode, and he still refused to stop.
His hands on her thighs spread them apart.
Wen Bairan clenched her legs, moaning in a mix of pain and pleasure. In a breathless moment, without thinking, she dug her teeth into his shoulder.
Her teeth dug deep into his skin and muscle.
He was as tough as sticky taffy.
She ground her teeth in deeper.
He winced in pain but made no sound.
In retaliation, he gave two sharp smacks on her bottom, then lifted her and stepped out of the bathtub.
His wet footprints trailed across the floor as he carried her toward the bedroom.
Wen Bairan had never been spoken to harshly, let alone spanked, in her life. Though the spanks weren’t full-force, they jolted her sense of shame awake. A wave of inexplicable humiliation washed over her, reddening her eyes. In a fit of defiance, she bit down until she drew blood.
"Tch."
Hearing his sharp intake of breath, Wen Bairan felt a surge of satisfaction, but it was short-lived as he bounced her harshly twice.
Still restrained, the motion was too much for her. She cried out and released her bite.
Song Xu’s mind was too sharp—in an instant, he’d figured out her weakness from her reaction. Even when they reached the bed, he didn’t set her down, maintaining the position until she was sobbing, "Song Xu, Song Xu."
Her soft, clear voice was hoarse beyond recognition, unconsciously sweet, intoxicatingly seductive. It seeped into him like a drug, leaving a damp, aching emptiness somewhere deep in his chest.
He could no longer hold back.
He threw her onto the pillows, then pulled her tightly into his arms, kissing her hungrily as if he could never get enough.
"Wen Bairan."
Dazed and near unconsciousness from the exertion, Wen Bairan struggled to open her eyes at the sound of her name. In the stormy flicker of shadows around them, his dark gaze was like a lighthouse on turbulent seas—that faint, dim glow her only guide.
Just before the overwhelming tide consumed them completely, she faintly heard him utter a few words.
……
//
The executive suite at the W Hotel.
Two lonely nighttime souls converged here.
It seemed Song Xu had brought her here today specifically because he had something to say.
Wen Bairan stood before the bathroom mirror, examining the marks he’d left on her body—red and purple, with the worst concentrated on her chest, a truly shocking sight.
She frowned, thinking he must have lost his mind.
But he hadn’t gotten off unscathed either. Earlier, in the light, she’d seen his shoulder—mangled and bloody.
Wen Bairan wondered if she’d been with him too long, infected by his cold-bloodedness. She felt not an ounce of pity, instead reveling in the bloody retribution.
Served him right for what he did to her in the tub.
She slipped on the bathrobe, warmth enveloping her.
Damp strands of hair clung to her ears, itching slightly.
She brushed them away with her fingers, and as her fingertips grazed her ear, the hallucinated words echoed once more.
‘Wen Bairan. Marry me.’
……
Song Xu’s voice, rich and deep like a cello, sawed through her bones. The magnetic resonance disturbed the electrical fields in her mind, leaving Wen Bairan dizzy. She couldn’t help but feel that something must be wrong.
Was he sick?
Or was she?
Well, probably neither.
Shaking her head, Wen Bairan stepped out of the bathroom. The man in the living room had already prepared the red wine.
An exceptionally fine vintage Lafite.
No one knew how to enjoy himself better than he did.
He stood by the window, the hem of his white bathrobe reaching only to his knees. Facing the glass, with the glittering starry sky outside, the darkness left in the room made the silhouette of his back look imposing.
Wen Bairan hesitated for a moment before walking over.
"What’s wrong with you?"
This was the second time she had asked him that question today.
Song Xu glanced sideways, noticing the subtle glint of concern in her eyes. His sharp features softened under that light, revealing a rare softness. "Are you worried about me?"
Wen Bairan blinked and said, "Sort of."
"What does 'sort of' mean?" He handed her a glass of poured red wine, visibly annoyed with her answer.
Wen Bairan took a sip and gazed out the window. It had been a while since she had seen the night view from this angle. Indeed, vantage point determines what you see; from up high, everything looks better.
"Why bring me here all of a sudden? What's wrong with home?" She avoided his question, using the drink to help hide the dazed feeling she'd had since leaving the bathroom.
Song Xu didn’t press further, looking out alongside her. "It is, and it isn’t."
He didn't say why, wanting her to guess.
But she misunderstood his meaning.
She withdrew her gaze and suddenly asked, "Who did you meet today?"
From the moment she had received his call, she'd sensed he was keeping something from her. During their intimate moments, her intuition told her his unusual behavior was likely related to another woman. Though unverified, Wen Bairan felt she was slowly figuring him out.
"Is it Zhu Qiwei?" she ventured cautiously. "Is she back?"
Song Xu’s face tightened slightly, his eyes shifting to her. The softness from moments ago vanished, replaced by a chill that seemed to drop the temperature in the room. "Why would you say that?"
Wen Bairan shivered, thinking she'd hit a nerve. "Didn’t she get married? Did she get divorced? Is she here to rekindle things with you?"
His gaze grew colder, and she drained her glass for courage.
A light flush from the wine warmed her cheeks, and she mustered the courage to continue, "Seriously, will you be straight with me? If she really came back for you, would you agree? Would you go with her, or would you tell her to get a divorce?"
Song Xu narrowed his eyes, glaring coldly at her. "Why does it matter to you?"
"Well, obviously I need to be prepared," Wen Bairan said.
Though they now seemed caught up in this... thing between them, it wasn't that deep yet, with no unforgettable memories tying them together. If he wanted to leave, she wouldn't try to stop him, but it would still hurt if it happened too fast.
Truthfully, no matter what he said, she already had a pretty good idea. Men, when they're into you, might make promises, but if they change their mind, even the strongest promises vanish like dust in the wind.
But given Song Xu's notoriously high-handed pride, perhaps he'd scorn hiding or lying.
Wen Bairan said generously, "Don’t worry, I won’t cling to you. I know you feel differently about Zhu Qiwei and Zhong Yu. I know where I stand, and when it's time for me to bow out, I won’t stick around."
She extended her glass, gesturing for him to fill it up again.
Song Xu didn’t move.
He frowned, staring at her as if trying to see right through her.
Wen Bairan shrank back, her eyelashes fluttering as she averted her gaze. "Fine, fine, I’ll pour it myself. Why are you staring at me like that?"
She mumbled, the last part almost silent, but he still heard.
He suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled.
She stumbled into his embrace. Song Xu held the back of her head, tilting it up as he kissed her, nipping at her lips. Wen Bairan whimpered in pain, pushing at him wildly, and accidentally hit his wound.
He frowned and released her.
Wen Bairan took the chance to pull away, covering her mouth as she glared at him. "What are you, a dog?!"
Song Xu: "..."
Lately, she'd gotten a lot bolder. In bed, he could write it off as part of the act, but even outside it, her old fear of him was gone.
Admittedly, this spunk had its own appeal, but she'd definitely picked the wrong time.
No one had ever called him that to his face before. His eyebrow arched, and he pulled her back without another word, his arms locking around her like iron bands, he said ominously. "Who’s the dog? Want me to show you?"
He made as if to show the wound on his shoulder, but Wen Bairan had already noticed the blood seeping through his robe.
In the dim light, the dark crimson stood out sharply.
Her heart sank, and she reached out to part his collar. On his fair skin, a ring of bloody tooth marks glared back; the wound, barely scabbed over, had started bleeding again for some reason.
Likely, she'd been too rough with him earlier.
"How did it get so bad?" Wen Bairan panicked, any thought of revenge forgotten. She never meant to hurt him that badly.
Worried, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyebrows furrowed in worry. "I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to... Are you in pain? Maybe we should go to the hospital, Song Xu..."
She was filled with guilt, never meaning for him to get hurt like this.
But when she looked up, she found him looking at her with a complicated expression.
Wen Bairan went still.
"Song Xu...?"
She trailed off.
This suite was like their own private prison. Once inside, all rational thought seemed to disappear.
The eternal themes between people are passion and desire. The urge to do more and want more, to love and crave more.
For the first time, Song Xu felt that within desire, he was getting a taste of something deeper.
How to put it?
A little sour.
A little bitter.
It washed over him, leaving him feeling dazed and overwhelmed.
His temples and the area around his eyes ached with pressure, so intensely he made Wen Bairan close her eyes first.
He lowered his head to kiss her.
Desire coiled tight, ready to spring, but for now, he only kissed her.
Among the many things Zhu Qiwei had once said to him, one line came back to him now:
"Song Xu, when you close your eyes, can you still see me?"
He could draw her from memory with his eyes closed—did that count as seeing?
She said it didn’t; you have to actually see with your eyes.
He asked why she insisted on closing his eyes then—why not just keep them open?
She wouldn't drop it, demanding an answer from him.
He said, "Then no, I can't."
Zhu Qiwei fell silent after that. She lowered her head, her expression disappointed and lonely.
It was as though she had been utterly crushed. She wasn’t crying, yet one could sense the tears welling up inside her, her whole being damp and swollen like a sponge soaked with water.
It was only later, when Song Xu thought of her and remembered that expression, that he started to grasp what she had really been asking with that question.
Like now.
The suite was dark, the night deep, the encroaching darkness devouring every trace of light and brightness.
Wen Bairan went from startled to immersed in the moment, her tightly furrowed brows gradually relaxing. Her eyelashes fluttered like a kitten’s whiskers when it breathes, soft and delicate, brushing lightly beneath her eyes. The corner of her mouth, where he had bitten her, stung when she opened her mouth. Her eyelids twitched, wanting to ask him to be gentler, but she didn’t dare reach for his shoulder. Instead, she gripped the belt of his robe, tugging gently as if calling his name—Song Xu.
He tried closing his eyes, but every move she made, every breath she took, even the small vibrant red mole dancing at her collarbone—all of it remained vividly clear before him.
The kiss lasted until the lights in the opposite building had all gone out.
Wen Bairan, dizzy and unsteady, could no longer hold herself up. Song Xu finally released her.
He lowered his head, resting his forehead against hers, and said in a low voice, "Still want to keep saying those hurtful things?"
She breathed in quick, shallow pants, the tenderness in his voice sending her already racing heart even more chaotic.
She hadn’t even understood what he was saying.
"You don’t need to be jealous of her."
He said.
"Or anyone."
Wen Bairan flinched, her eyelids flickered open, but she could only see his impossibly sensual thin lips; she couldn't make out his face clearly.
She wanted to say she wasn’t jealous, truly not.
She just understood that Song Xu did love Zhu Qiwei once.
Even if he himself may not even know it.
His logic and detachment were his strengths, but also his weaknesses.
Otherwise, why wouldn't he even be able to mention that name?
It was his pain, perhaps the one real wound he had ever suffered in his life.
Wen Bairan had no confidence that someone like her, who had came into his life out of nowhere, could make that kind of impression on him. Nor did she know how to make him understand that there were really four people in their relationship.
Zhou Lin.
Zhu Qiwei.
Her and Song Xu.
"Song Xu, listen to me, I—"
"Wen Bairan."
Song Xu interrupted her.
Once again, he said those words that made Wen Bairan think she was dreaming.
"Marry me."
…
The thunderstorm outside came out of nowhere.
Perhaps the drizzling rain in the evening had been a warning.
No one had paid attention.
The heavy, rumbling thunder rolled continuously in the distance.
The thought came to her—
If marriage is the tomb for love,
I don’t know if we have any love to bury.
…