She was still young, unable to withstand his intensity, yet their time together had been too brief. He was desperate to indulge fully, coaxing her with a blend of dominance and tenderness, calling her "good little sister" and "sweet baby." In the ten years they'd known each other, she had never seen him so tender—all of it poured out in the bedchamber.
On the day of her departure, he deliberately stayed home. Her room had been tidied neatly, with few belongings left behind, leaving the final cleanup to him. They went out together, and he drove her to the train station, accompanying her inside to wait. He seemed relaxed, even taking a few calls, as if untouched by the sorrow of parting.
As the bullet train slowly pulled into the platform, he stood casually before her—tall, young, and handsome, with a somewhat roguish charm, hands on his hips.
"The train's here. Time to go."
"Chen..."
"Call me brother." He let out a relieved sigh. "Miao Jing, we've known each other for ten years. It hasn't been easy."
She silently gazed at him. "Brother."
He wrapped an arm around her slender shoulders, gently kissing her hair, and whispered her name in a tone only she could hear—just like in the intimacy of the bedchamber.
As the train began to move, she watched his figure from the window. The moment their eyes met, he raised his brows with a captivating, faint smile. Yet, his dark eyes seemed veiled in a thin mist, carrying an emotion she couldn't decipher—like a fragile layer of ice floating on winter's foggy water.
Miao Jing blinked, and tears streamed down her cheeks. The train accelerated, and his figure vanished. That smile felt like an illusion, fleeting and gone.
On the train, she secretly shed more tears than she had in her eighteen years. Passengers nearby exchanged glances, puzzled by the young girl traveling alone with so many tears. They offered tissues, but she bit her lip, shook her head, wiped her tears, and stared blankly out the window.
When the train reached its destination, she smoothly boarded the university's shuttle bus. She called Chen Yi to report her safe arrival. His end was unbearably noisy, likely in a KTV, and he covered his ear, saying he understood and that she should live well. After a brief exchange, he hung up and never initiated contact or asked about her again.
Miao Jing clutched the bank card, went to an ATM, and her eyes widened in shock at the balance—he had given her 80,000 yuan. With annual tuition only 6,000, and given her lifestyle, it was more than enough for a peaceful and comfortable four years of university.
But Chen Yi's phone became increasingly hard to reach. Later, he explained that the amount was just right for an ordinary student's life—if it wasn't enough, she'd have to work part-time. The money was clean; he'd been saving since he was eighteen, and she should use it without worry, treating it as compensation for their last two months together.
Furious, Miao Jing clenched her fists, her face pale, feeling no gratitude toward him.
They maintained sporadic contact for a while, both seemingly detached. His replies were always delayed and casual. Their final call was brief: "Miao Jing, let's end it here. Don't call me anymore. I have other women now and I'm busy—no time to chat."
Soon after, Chen Yi changed his number and cut off all communication.
Chapter 39: Are You Fucking Serious?!
Miao Jing wasn't joking.The fruit knife was an old item, one Chen Yi had given Miao Jing over a decade ago to keep under her pillow for self-defense. With its silver long handle, substantial weight, compact size, and sharp edge, it could easily nick a finger if one wasn’t careful. Of course, it worked exceptionally well on Chen Yi’s cheek too. No matter how thick-skinned he was, with just a bit of pressure from Miao Jing, the broken skin would slowly seep beads of blood.
This level of pain meant nothing to Chen Yi. Even with his arm bandaged, his fingers could deftly control her wrist. But seeing her stern, serious face stirred a lazy, mischievous impulse in him, and he couldn’t help but laugh—did this brat even know who he was, what he’d held in his hands, or what kind of life he’d lived?
Damn, she had some nerve, pointing a knife at him from a hospital bed.
“Chen Yi!!”
Seeing his unrestrained laughter, she raised her delicate eyebrows and applied a little more pressure to her wrist. A needle-like cold pain shot through Chen Yi’s cheek as a line of blood suddenly trailed down his face. The arrogant smile reflected in her eyes gradually faded, finally settling into a cynical curl at the corner of his lips. His dark eyes gleamed brightly, his tone still casual and unruly.
“Trying to kill me?”
Her pretty face stern, she tilted her chin slightly, exuding an aura of cold aloofness. “Tell me!”
He turned his head, avoiding the knife right under his eye. “Tell you what?”
“Everything.” The silver blade pressed relentlessly against him as Miao Jing’s voice remained icy. “Why did the billiards hall catch fire? Why has Officer Zhou been coming to see you? He’s a criminal police officer—is this a criminal case?”
“How should I know? Go ask him. Things have been peaceful in Tengcheng lately; probably the cops have too much free time.” His reply was dismissive and amused. “Why don’t you move the damn knife away first? What’s gotten into you? Can’t you see I’m bleeding?”
She blinked her thick, curled lashes, her cherry lips pressed pale. The bloodstained blade lifted slightly before calmly sliding down again. With precise force, the tip traced from his cheek to his chin, the cold edge and her stern expression forcing Chen Yi to raise his eyebrows and lift his head. Threateningly, it came to rest against his Adam’s apple.
The threat was palpable.
The prominent Adam’s apple bulged beneath thin skin, its sharp tip rolling slightly, stained with a hint of crimson blood. Paired with the equally sharp, cool silver blade, the scene was both chilling and sensual. Adrenaline surged instantly, and even Chen Yi inwardly cursed, “Holy shit.”
“Why do you always try to send me away?”
“Why did you cut off contact after I started college?”
“Where have you been these past six years? What have you been doing? Why did you end up opening a billiards hall?”
Miao Jing’s face was coldly beautiful and solemn, her knife-holding hand incredibly calm and steady—so steady that one wouldn’t doubt it if the blade pierced his throat the next moment.
“What’s there to ask? It’s not like I haven’t told you before.” Chen Yi’s expression was lazy and indifferent as he stretched out on the bed, unable to resist turning to look for his cigarette pack. With the knife tip pressing into him and her eyes fixed on him, he felt an urge to smoke. “Get me my cigarette pack.”
OpenNovel