Suddenly, her vision went dark, and she lost consciousness.
Under the dim light, Pei Zhiyao repressed a surge of emotion and closed his eyes.
After calming the impulse in his heart, he took out a handkerchief and carefully wiped the water droplets from his fingertips.
He had been looking forward to what was about to happen for eight years.
But if she wasn't willing, he would never force her.
The bedside lamp was turned off, and Pei Zhiyao gently embraced the petite figure in his arms, letting out a heavy sigh.
...
So dark, so cold.
Wen Mian shivered, standing still and lost, listening to the howling wind by her ear.
"Mianmian! Run!"
A young man's urgent shout reached her ears.
Before she could react, Wen Mian was taken by a cold hand and began to run.
Soon the world was spinning, and to her astonishment, Wen Mian found herself standing on the rooftop terrace.
The young man beside her hastily pushed her into the storage room and walked out onto the terrace alone.
"Come at me if you want to! Leave Mianmian out of this!"
"Who do you think you are?! Bring that little slut out! It's only right for the daughter to pay off the father's debts!"
"As long as I'm here, you can't touch a hair on her head!"
"Hey! Stop moving back! What are you trying to do!"
"Somebody help! Someone's jumping off the building!"
The argument outside seeped through the slightly open door, making Wen Mian's heartbeat race, and her eyes, without her realizing it, had become moist.
It was Axuan!
She had to go out, she had to save him!
But her legs felt as if they were filled with lead; they just wouldn't move.
The door was flung open, but Wen Mian suddenly appeared at the bottom of the building.
The once cheerful young man lay in a pool of blood, never to breathe again...
Wen Mian trembled uncontrollably, crying out loud—
"Axuan—"
...
"Wen Mian? Wen Mian?"
That voice got closer and closer, seemingly desperate to take Wen Mian away from there.
Wen Mian suddenly awoke, her breathing as frantic as that of a drowning person.
As her vision cleared, the warm morning sun shone into the room, finally warming Wen Mian's cold hands a little.
Pei Zhiyao's thin lips were pressed into a straight line, and the knuckles of his fingers turned slightly white from gripping too hard.
Last night, she was obviously sleeping beside him, yet she was calling out for Zhao Moxuan.
For him, it was an immense humiliation!
Finally, Wen Mian came back to her senses and looked at Pei Zhiyao beside her.
He was loosely wearing a bathrobe, revealing attractive muscle lines. His perfect inverted triangle physique, combined with that outrageously handsome face and the light scar on his brow bone, added a bit of roguishness to an otherwise too-abstinent face, which was incredibly seductive.
In her mind, she involuntarily recalled the blush-inducing scene from last night.
Instantly, Wen Mian's face turned red without a fight, and she hurriedly tried to leave, completely unaware of Pei Zhiyao's darkly clouded expression.
As she opened the door, a familiar face caught her eye.
Wen Mian's movements halted, and her expression instantly turned as cold as frost.
It really was misfortune upon misfortune to run into Pei Qingqing again!
Pei Qingqing wore a Chanel style suit, and her face, with its immaculate makeup, also expressed shock.
As her gaze touched upon Wen Mian's disheveled collar and skirt, a flash of hatred crossed the depths of her eyes.
"Wen Mian? How come you are in my brother's room?"
A man and a woman alone in a room, with clothes in disarray.
Pei Qingqing had guessed some of the story.
Wen Mian's expression was icy, clearly showing no intention to engage, as she stepped to the side trying to pass by.
But Pei Qingqing persisted in blocking her way, hostility brimming in her almond eyes, as if she was determined not to let Wen Mian leave without an explanation today.
Unseen, the air filled with the scent of gunpowder.