Lin Wan stepped out of the building with a heavy heart. She turned back once more to look up at the familiar third-floor balcony, crowded with flowers and greenery. A sharp ache welled up in her chest again.
It's over. Everything is over.
She raised her hand and wiped at the corner of her eyes. Just moments earlier, Wang's mother had broken down again, sobbing uncontrollably, while Wang's father had sighed and retreated into the study. Lin Wan hadn't known how to console them. All she could do was silently pull out tissues and wipe the old woman's tears. Through her sobs, Wang's mother had clutched her hand and said indistinctly,
"Wanwan… our Wang family owes you so much. You've suffered so much because of us…"
And at that instant, tears surged from Lin Wan's eyes—
So this is what it feels like… to cry for oneself.
Wang's mother had gone on through her tears,
"Xiao loved you so much… If he had known all this in the afterlife, he would never rest in peace. He would never forgive us. Such a good girl… ruined by bad people like this…"
Even now, Wang's mother's wailing seemed to echo in her ears. Those words were like a blade driven straight into her heart, then yanked back violently, tearing open a raw, bleeding wound.
Lin Wan drifted out of the compound in a daze. She didn't notice the black car parked at the gate until a shrill horn sounded. Startled, she looked over.
The car door opened. A man stepped out.
He was tall. The black suit he wore made him look sharp and imposing, lending him both elegance and an overwhelming sense of pressure. He strode straight toward her, his gaze fixed on her without wavering.
Fragments of memory flashed through her mind.
Two years ago, in the hospital—she had woken on the bed to see this man rising from the sofa by the window, walking toward her with that same suffocating sense of restraint.
And a few days later, in front of the Zhicheng building—she had rushed forward and slapped him. She still remembered how blinding the sunlight had been that day, how terrifying his expression was. Even now, when she recalled it, she could not understand where she had found the courage.
Time forces people to grow up.
And the mark of growing up… is learning to be afraid.
Before she could summon more memories, he was already standing before her. With familiar ease, he lifted an arm, intending to drape it over her shoulder.
She didn't think. She simply took a reflexive step back.
Chen Jin's hand froze in midair. He frowned.
"Wanwan?"
She lowered her eyes and asked softly,
"Why are you here?"
"I was worried about you." He held her left hand and said, "Come on. Get in the car. We'll talk on the way."
She didn't move.
He frowned more deeply.
"You've been walking all afternoon. Aren't you tired?"
When she looked up at him in surprise, he admitted honestly,
"That's right. I've been following you the whole time. With the way you were, how could I leave you alone?"
Before she could respond, he tightened his grip and dragged her along, regardless of whether she agreed or not. She didn't resist. Once inside the car, she quietly took the passenger seat and turned her face toward the window.
Chen Jin, too, was holding in a surge of pent-up anger—an inexplicable irritation with nowhere to vent. He slammed down on the accelerator. The car shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.
Lin Wan's eyes were unfocused. Her mind drifted back to that day again—to what happened afterward, when he had roughly thrown her into the car and frightened her into screaming with his reckless speed…
—
In the underground parking garage of the apartment building, Chen Jin got out and pulled Lin Wan from the car, once again dragging her toward the elevator. His grip was too tight. Her hand began to ache. When her steps faltered even slightly, he clenched harder, as if he meant to crush her bones.
It hurt badly enough that she cried out.
He stopped at once and turned back to look at her, loosening his grip slightly. Lin Wan shook his hand off in anger. Chen Jin froze for a second. She seized the moment and hurried past him.
They reached the elevator one after the other. When the doors opened, they entered in the same silent succession.
The confined space seemed to amplify the man's suppressed fury. It felt almost murderous.
Lin Wan stole a quick glance upward. His brows were drawn tightly together, lips pressed into a hard line, veins standing out at his temples. Unease crept into her chest, and she edged sideways without realizing it.
Though he faced the elevator doors, Chen Jin still sensed the movement. He turned abruptly and glared at her.
"What are you afraid of?" he sneered. "Do you think I'll eat you alive?"
As he spoke, he took a step toward her.
She backed up again, trapped against the corner wall. On instinct, she raised her guard.
"What are you trying to do?"
Chen Jin gave a low chuckle and braced his left arm against the wall beside her. His tone carried a lazy, dangerous provocation.
"You're still my woman right now. There's nothing I can't do."
The moment the words left his mouth, a bitter edge rose in his own chest.
Still—right now?
So that means soon she won't be soon?
The thought only fueled the storm inside him. The fire in his chest flared hotter and hotter. Before him was a pale, delicate face. His gaze swept past her dark eyes—filled with fear and fury—and landed squarely on her full, red lips.
Suddenly his throat went dry.
Dry as if he'd wandered three days and three nights through a desert without a single drop of water.
Those red lips before him were like a cherry—something that could quench his thirst.
He lowered his head decisively, raising his right hand to cradle the back of her head. The instant his lips closed over hers, the violent chaos in his heart finally found a moment of relief.
She struggled weakly, but it was useless against his brute restraint. Her hands fell limply to her sides, powerless.
He kissed her roughly, fiercely. The faint sweetness of orange juice from lunch lingered between her lips and teeth, tempting him further. His tongue swept inside chaotically, plundering without restraint, then withdrew—only to torture her lips again.
After tracing the beautiful curve of her mouth with the tip of his tongue, he suddenly a bit down hard.
Pain burst through her. A muffled sound escaped her throat—almost like a moan, trapped by his mouth. Satisfied, he left her now-swollen, torn lip behind and slid his wet kisses down along her sharp chin.
His right hand moved from the back of her head down to her left shoulder—and jerked sharply.
She wore a light apple-green cardigan over a striped dress. With that violent tug, the collar and the strap of her dress were dragged down together, exposing the smooth, round curve of her shoulder.
His lips descended without hesitation.
She never expected him to go this far. Her head tilted up by reflex—and her eyes collided with the surveillance camera mounted above them.
Shame and fury surged at once. She struggled desperately.
"Let go of me!"
He didn't listen.
His left hand slid down and covered her chest through the fabric, kneading shamelessly with no sense of restraint. After planting a few light kisses on her shoulder, he suddenly a bit down again.
She cried out sharply in pain.
Her mind went blank. Her gaze remained locked on the dark, unblinking camera above, imagining what anyone watching would think if they saw this scene. For a moment, she almost failed to notice how his actions were growing more and more unhinged—until one of his hands slipped lower, grabbing at her skirt as if to hike it up…
She screamed in panic:
"Chen Jin—don't make me hate you."