Chapter 56: He Was Also A Bit Greedy Now

What continued wasn’t just the kissing.

She didn’t see passion as a bad thing, but the intensity that was apparent in him was undeniably strange.

A man who had the situation firmly in hand would never stray from elegance; even in the final moments of losing himself, he merely rolled his throat and furrowed his brows. Lightly, he could call her “baby.”

Of course, today was no exception. Zhong Yu Bai seemed even more awake, hardly closing his eyes.

But the more he was like this, the more uneasy she felt. It was a sense of anxiety, completely shackled and devoid of freedom. In the past, no matter what, he would always leave her some room—room to breathe, room to resist. Even if he trapped one of her hands, he would leave the other free to scratch an itch.

This evening’s invasion, the precise and seamless suppression, truly left her with nothing.

It also showed her that if he really wanted to trap her, he could control even her breathing within the palm of his hand. 

His inky black eyes blended into the night, like a boundless abyss that seemed ready to swallow her whole. 

The brand-new riverside apartment quickly lost its novelty, filled with traces and scents everywhere. She was forced to become familiar with it rapidly, brushing against it in every direction.

She always felt that he was so indifferent that one couldn’t see any traces of restraint. It wasn’t until she heard his heartbeat break the warning line, his body drenched in sweat, that she realized that those gentle, soothing experiences from before—rules that allowed for rest, infinitely lingering nights, the slow accumulation of tranquility—were all the result of his restraint.

But today, she witnessed something different.

Ji Zhen Tang stood on the floor, her whole body being lifted by him, needing to match his height, forced to stand on tiptoe with her toes pressed tightly against the redwood floor, her hand resting on the headboard.

Before her was a wall mural filled with vibrant flowers.

A small gap was left in the window, and the wind slammed the Roman blinds against the painting, shattering the wind chimes adorned with thousands of paper cranes that hung from the eaves, carrying them into the whimsical world.

If things continued like this, her legs grew numb, and her knees softened, threatening to collapse.

Zhong Yu Bai quickly reached out to support her face, slightly balancing the situation.

He leaned down, “Can’t stand?”

Ji Zhen Tang took a deep breath and weakly said, “Still ‘uncle’?”

Zhong Yu Bai fell silent for a moment, stabilizing her on the bed while looking at her expression: “What’s wrong?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, sitting against his waist, still in the mood for jokes, her eyes wide as she looked at him: “Oh, it’s you! I thought some fierce beast had come.”

Zhong Yu Bai’s lips curled slightly, but he didn’t smile. He pulled her tighter and said in a deep voice, “You just praised me.”

She was taken aback: “I thought you were very abstinent.”

“You should have known I’m not,” he said seriously, looking at her.

Not just not abstinent, but rather the opposite.

It was quite an eye-opener.

Zhong Yu Bai brushed his nose against hers, watching Ji Zhen Tang’s eyelids droop with fatigue. He observed her becoming somewhat active yet sinking, half-heartedly resisting, continuously falling deeper into the quagmire.

She opened her eyes and said in a fragmented voice, “I was just saying it casually; you weren’t like this before.”

After a brief pause, he asked, “How was I before?”

Ji Zhen Tang replied, “You said you would let me go.”

When a person appears to have no desires, it seems that nothing is important to him.

Thus, she couldn’t see greed, anger, or infatuation in his eyes—it had always been like this.

“Is that so?” Zhong Yu Bai replied lightly, tightening his grip around her waist, his doubt carrying a hint of threat.

Ji Zhen Tang asked, “Are you planning to renege on your promise?”

After a long pause, he finally said, “I won’t renege.”

He added, “You can leave.”

His words floated lightly, not demanding anything, giving her the freedom to leave.

Yet, selfishly, he hoped she would choose to stay here.

The thousand paper cranes were not made of paper; they were made of crystal. In the gentle, settled sound of the wind, they slowly stopped fluttering.

Ji Zhen Tang looked at him for a long time.

She gradually stood up and said, “Let’s talk about something happy. Let me show you my account; guess how many digits my followers have.”

Ji Zhen Tang took her phone and opened the account interface.

Zhong Yu Bai didn’t guess; instead, he lay sideways and watched her.

She laughed and held up her fingers to indicate a number. “I can’t believe I’ve actually become popular in self-media. With you supporting me, it feels like everyone around me is a good person, and everything goes smoothly.”

Hearing her say this, Zhong Yu Bai felt relieved for her: “It’s your time to shine; great things take time.”

He hoped she would notice her own advantages more.

She showed him a few videos, and Zhong Yu Bai watched calmly.

“Do you think the things I design are pretty?” Ji Zhen Tang asked, lifting her chin and waiting for compliments.

He generously praised her: “They’re very beautiful.”

She smiled shyly: “I have something to give you.”

Zhong Yu Bai gently replied, “Mm.”

She rummaged in her bag for a while and took out a small fish-shaped brooch.

“This is my one percent, a little gift in return for the Kashmir blue sapphire you gave me.”

The little blue gem was the token of their relationship, with the surname Ji.

Zhong Yu Bai’s calm demeanor, which had remained steady all night, finally softened into a genuine smile when he saw the brooch.

Ji Zhen Tang had learned to read his expressions; although she still couldn’t discern the differences, she could magnify the subtle fluctuations in his eyes, catching significant hints of joy.

“You like it!” Before he could give his opinion, she excitedly clapped her hands. “That’s great! I knew you would like it.”

Zhong Yu Bai held the small brooch, gently stroking the fish body, which was smaller than his fingertip, and asked, “How did you come up with this?”

“This is called a meeting of minds. Although I don’t completely understand you, I also don’t completely misunderstand you. Giving you a gift you like in this moment makes our relationship worthwhile.”

Ji Zhen Tang tilted her head to look at him, smiling proudly.

It seemed he liked the brooch, which made her even happier than him.

Zhong Yu Bai contemplated her roundabout words and smiled faintly.

He corrected her, saying, “There have been quite a few occasions.”

“Really, you’re such an old fox,” Ji Zhen Tang said as she draped a leg over his strong waist, applying gentle pressure. “If you’re counting like that, there have been dozens of occasions already.”

He wanted to tease her but kept his composure, placing the box on the bedside and formally saying to her, “Thank you, it’s very exquisite.”

Ji Zhen Tang smiled happily.

Her happiness and laughter were always heartfelt.

Though she was a somewhat false optimist, the deep beauty of her eyes, when they curved, was truly infectious.

Nothing—the dusk, the starry sky, or the fireworks—compared to even one part of her power.

Zhong Yu Bai lifted her chin and couldn’t help but lean in, kissing her forehead gently.

Ji Zhen Tang liked this kind of kiss, gentle and light, more akin to love.

She asked Zhong Yu Bai, “Do you think love is more important than sex?”

He nodded and replied, “That makes more sense. It can regulate and correct some moral errors.”

Ji Zhen Tang mumbled, “Yeah, if every man thought like this, there wouldn’t be so many illegitimate children.”

Her words hinted at something deeper, her expression clearly frustrated. She glanced at the ceiling and then turned to him, seemingly casual but suddenly asking, “Do you love me?”

The five simple words, spoken softly, hung in the quiet air after she said them.

“I thought it was already quite obvious,” Zhong Yu Bai replied. “I love you.”

Whether it was sweet talk or clear affection, he was unafraid to express it.

“If I have money, I’ll give you money; if I have a heart, I’ll give you my heart; if I have happiness, I’ll give you happiness. Love must be expressed.”

Ji Zhen Tang looked at him for a while and slowly smiled.

She said, “But my mom doesn’t let me play with you.”

She turned a serious topic into a joke.

Zhong Yu Bai was clever; he could hear the truth behind her joke. He reached out to pull her waist, drawing her closer into his embrace, smiling in a way that made her feel he had a hint of mischief.

He said slowly, “Being a good child to your parents is not as good as being my good child.”

Ji Zhen Tang paused for a moment: “…”

Her face flushed slightly with embarrassment. Then she turned her head and pointed at the crystal crane hanging under the eaves. “Why do you have wind chimes at home?”

Zhong Yu Bai glanced over and replied, “It’s for you, one of the decorations for Qixi Festival.”

Ji Zhen Tang smiled. “It’s beautiful! I love everything you’ve arranged for me, but what I love the most is you.”

She kissed him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Their accidental collisions felt like the wind blowing over the earth, bringing new life, making her sense the vitality of spring within him.

It was a vibrant and thriving spring.

Zhong Yu Bai held her, his palm tightening to cover her delicate back completely. In the deepest moment of their kiss, Ji Zhen Tang suddenly said, “Is there a moonlit river here? I want to listen to a song.”

Zhong Yu Bai thought for a moment; there really wasn’t a sound system at home. He suggested using his phone, but Ji Zhen Tang decided against it.

She lay back on the bed, looking out the window.

Below was the city, above was the starry sky.

The location of this room was truly great.

After looking at the sky for a while, she felt a sense of emptiness; urban pollution had long since choked out the starlight, making it far inferior to the pure skies of her childhood.

Ji Zhen Tang said, “How about I sing you a song? You should remember me.”

Zhong Yu Bai didn’t look at the starry sky; he kept his gaze fixed on her, gently stroking her hair and saying, “Sing.”

She began to sing, her voice clear and delicate, like a little lark. It was gentle yet sweet: “The rain softly falls, I hear your voice, you come closer with an umbrella, shielding me from the wind and blocking the rain.”

“You speak like the wind, flowing in my direction. You are like the waves in the sea, supporting my growth.”

“…”

She said, “Every time I hear this song, I think of you.”

Once again, there was an outpouring of tenderness in his eyes, as if he were overwhelmed by her presence.

She often said she was greedy. This time, Zhong Yu Bai suddenly felt that he too might be a little insatiable.

“Was it good?” Ji Zhen Tang asked him after finishing the song.

Zhong Yu Bai didn’t reply but showed his appreciation through his actions.

“Ah, no one told me that a thirty-year-old man would be like this!!”

He chuckled, not paying attention to her outburst, as it quickly faded into silence.

His veins and pulse felt like they had been washed by a heavy rain, warm and refreshing, awakening to the first light of dawn.

Zhong Yu Bai woke up to find her sleeping in a pose like an octopus, and he allowed her limbs to entangle around him. The twisted sheets resembled the chaos in his heart, crumpled by her.

—

The next day, Ji Zhen Tang woke up a little later. She saw the trending news about the fireworks from yesterday’s Qixi Festival and caught a glimpse of the begonia flowers he mentioned in the videos.

Many bloggers captured this scene, with several posts going viral. Everyone was celebrating the Qixi Festival and love, with no one aware of the secret that unfolded in the heights of the city that night, or who orchestrated this romance.

Zhong Yu Bai’s expressions were subtle and implicit; he wouldn’t openly display her name and photos. A single flower was enough. Sometimes, Ji Zhen Tang was too close to him, and in her effort to dig out the warmth in his demeanor, she stumbled upon traces of him being a husband.

She almost forgot where this man truly belonged; he was meant to stir up the world in the arena of fame and fortune.

She continued to spend her summer vacation time in this small apartment.

From the top floor, she looked at the cars below.

Zhong Yu Bai wore a suit, noble and aloof. He strode forward, hands in his pockets, not needing to act; the people next to him opened doors and escorted him. He was the tallest, and his aura was the strongest.

Once he bent to get into the car, the group of men clustered around him returned to their posts, each attending to their duties.

The Rolls Royce merged into the dense city traffic.

He also returned to his role.

She stood high up, bidding him farewell, feeling a sense of distance in that moment.

On the day of the Mid-Autumn Festival, Zhong Yu Bai went to Chen Zhang Garden as expected. He didn’t inquire about the Zhong family affairs, leaving it all to Ding Jialing to investigate.

Ding Jialing mentioned the dinner that night, saying a few people had come to the house, and Zhong Heng was absent, probably enjoying himself in New York.

“Oh, but this eldest young master just returned; it’s quite rare. He insists on acting the role of Zhao’s orphan; everyone knows what his plans are. What do they call it? The heart of Sima Zhao.”

Ding Jialing complained endlessly.

Zhong Yu Bai sat in the back seat, legs crossed leisurely, hands resting lightly on his thighs, eyes closed in contemplation, offering no response.

“In ancient times, a performer sang a revolutionary role for Empress Dowager Cixi, who became furious, saying, ‘Aren’t you just hinting at me?’ As a result, the performer was punished with fifty strikes and expelled from the palace.”

Zhong Yu Bai opened his eyes and said softly, “I can’t compare to Cixi.”

“You’ve got it wrong; Cixi doesn’t possess the cultivation of President Zhong. A small lack of restraint can disrupt a major plan.”

He smiled coldly for a moment and asked, “How do you know I can endure?”

Ding Jialing replied, “I don’t think you would act rashly. After all, the character ‘忍’ (to endure) has a knife above it; it’s just that the time isn’t right yet.”

Zhong Yu Bai remained silent.

Soon, the car arrived at Chen Zhang Garden.

Zhong Yu Bai stayed in the car and caught sight of the man waiting at the entrance.

Zhong Yu was standing there, chatting and laughing with Xu Ma. Although they were brothers, he didn’t carry an ounce of Zhong Heng’s roguish demeanor; he exuded a refined air. Beneath his thin glasses, his eyes, apart from being cultured, revealed an unmasked cunning.

The stars and moon reflected in the water, flowers blooming beautifully under the full moon. Through the car window, he vaguely heard the sound of a stirring wind, tinged with danger.

Ding Jialing leaned over to take a look: “Oh, we’ve arrived so soon.”

Zhong Yu Bai raised his hand and removed the small fish brooch from his collar, placing it on the car door.

He stepped out of the car.

“Third Uncle, you’re here.”

Seeing Zhong Yu Bai, Zhong Yu’s lips curled into a slight smile as he called out to him.

He didn’t resemble Zhong Heng but looked quite like his father.

Zhong Yu Bai didn’t respond. He walked forward to the nearly meter-high threshold of Chen Zhang Garden and paused, glancing at the door panel embedded in the wooden frame.

This threshold wasn’t meant for people to cross; in ancient times, it was designed to block the lower classes, allowing only distinguished guests to enter.

Zhong Yu Bai could easily push those two panels aside.

But he didn’t move—he didn’t lift a hand or a foot.

He simply gazed deeply at his nephew inside and said, “Put it down.”

Xu Ma, who had her back turned, heard the noise and quickly came over to help.

Zhong Yu Bai shot her a look, signaling her to stay put.

Xu Ma awkwardly glanced at Zhong Yu.

Zhong Yu was momentarily taken aback. Seeing the stalemate, he had no choice but to step forward and lift the firmly blocked threshold, stacking the three joined panels to the side one by one.

Though not clumsy, the action lacked any imposing presence.

With only one panel left, he bent down low to remove the one stuck inside, but as his hand barely touched it—

The last panel was firmly stepped on by Zhong Yu Bai.

With a crack, it was heavily crushed underfoot, the sound echoing slightly.

Zhong Yu Bai showed no pity as he stepped on the expensive wood, lowering his gaze to Zhong Yu, who hadn’t yet straightened up. Only then did he smile and say a belated greeting, “Long time no see, Xiao Yu.”

Previous

Next