Chapter 665

The footsteps grew closer!

The footsteps stopped!

Xiao Han scanned the living room and balcony, then finally arrived at the master bedroom door.

But as soon as she stood by the door, her eyes narrowed sharply—she saw something unbelievable: her own honey was kissing the rival she dreaded most?

Kissing Zhou Shihe!

Their two bodies pressed so close—no gap at all!

Their lips fused together—completely negative!

In an instant, fury and an unprecedented sourness surged from her heart; Xiao Han, who always considered herself emotionally resilient, was about to go insane!

Wasn’t she supposed to come help her man? Now it turned into catching him in the act—who could bear this?

In that moment, Xiao Han screamed inside: Mr. Li, is it really just about eating red meat? Is it just about letting you taste my saliva? Don’t I have that?

She was so angry!

She desperately wanted to storm forward, grab those two lovers, and beat them senseless—slapping them left and right, dozens of times—but her face showed this, her voice spoke this:

Xiao Han forced a sweet smile, leaned against the doorframe as if deeply admiring, cleared her throat, and clapped her hands:

“Tsk tsk! Kissing, are you?”

“Oh my! Mrs. Zhou, you’re so stiff—never eaten chili candy? Don’t know how to lick? Can’t do a tongue kiss? Your kissing skills are worse than a dog’s—how could you possibly keep my man?”

“Oh dear, Mr. Li, I must criticize you. You were so skilled in my mouth, like a sprite—why are you like a stinking stone in the latrine with Mrs. Zhou? Don’t play favorites.”

Li Heng: “...”

Song Yu, who had just arrived, also froze, speechless.

Li Heng’s eyelids twitched violently; he pulled away from Miss Zhou.

Seeing this, Xiao Han stopped teasing, stepped into the bedroom, her sweet smile still on her face—but her gaze locked onto Zhou Shihe like a venomous snake: “Is Mr. Li’s saliva tasty? Since it’s so fun, let’s all three do it together.”

At this moment, Xiao Han appeared to be smiling, but radiated an icy chill—she clenched her fists, ready to fight.

Zhou Shihe, by contrast, remained calm, observing her rival’s micro-expressions with serene composure, confirming she had achieved her desired effect.

Song Yu stood outside the bedroom door, watching the scene inside with effortless grace, showing no intention to intervene.

That morning, she had already witnessed Zhou Shihe’s power—Zhou had kissed Li Heng and slapped him right in front of her.

Now, she couldn’t help suspecting: before she and Xiao Han arrived, Zhou Shihe had probably been confronting Li Heng—his reddened and bruised left cheek, the faint tear marks lingering at Zhou’s eyes, clearly proved it.

But why had it suddenly turned into Zhou Shihe and Li Heng kissing?

Drawing from the morning’s experience, clever Song Yu quickly understood all the underlying causes—but still said nothing, still showed no intention to help anyone.

In Song Yu’s heart, among all Li Heng’s romantic interests, she alone felt special emotions toward Zijin and Maisui, and would only favor and make concessions for Maisui and Zijin.

Moreover, Song Yu’s conduct differed entirely from Xiao Han’s: she loved Li Heng openly and honestly, never schemed behind the scenes; even if one day she lost to Zhou Shihe or Teacher Yu, she would depart with dignity, without shame.

Just as Fu Dan’s little cherry lips began to move, about to speak, Li Heng—who was thoroughly exasperated—spoke first.

Li Heng pushed aside the two women facing each other, muttering as a distraction: “Looks like you both ignored what was said in the kitchen. Fine! If you’re this disobedient, tonight you two will sleep with me together.”

Xiao Han’s eyes curled into a smile, giving him a side-glance.

Zhou Shihe remained silent.

Hearing this brazen, thuggish remark, Song Yu smiled gently, gazing at him with the grace of an orchid.

Was Song Yu jealous of what she just saw? She loved Li Heng deeply—of course she felt some pang—but she had long prepared herself, and showed not a trace on her face.

After muttering, Li Heng pushed the two women apart again with both hands, until both Xiao Han and Zhou Shihe stepped back, stumbling slightly—only then did he pass between them toward the door.

In the corner of Zhou Shihe and Xiao Han’s vision, Li Heng walked up to Song Yu, then swiftly extended his right hand, grabbed her wrist without hesitation, and pulled her away.

He pulled Song Yu’s wrist and left.

Song Yu made no resistance, glanced at his profile, and followed him step by step in silence toward the stairs.

With Li Heng and Song Yu gone, the bedroom was left with only the two rivals staring at each other.

Zhou Shihe and Xiao Han wore different expressions, their full attention fixed on the fading footsteps outside—no one knew what they were thinking, what thoughts churned inside them.

After all their fighting, both women seemed losers, while Song Yu won effortlessly, without a single blow.

But what were they even fighting for?

Of course—for Li Heng, for pride.

But now that their anchor, Li Heng, had left, both women instantly lost interest in continuing their standoff.

Or rather—they found each other utterly repulsive.

Zhou Shihe fell still, then turned slightly, stepping lightly out of the room.

Xiao Han reflected briefly, then didn’t linger on her rival’s territory—she slipped out of the bedroom without a word.

…

Down the stairs, to the first floor.

Song Yu gently withdrew her left hand from his palm, smiling faintly as she reminded him: “Your chest is damp.”

Li Heng looked down at his chest.

Song Yu added: “And your left cheek.”

Li Heng paused, then hurried into the first-floor bathroom, checked his left cheek in the mirror—faint red marks remained.

Damn it!

Miss Zhou’s slaps were powerful—after all this time, traces still lingered on my face.

He turned on the faucet, bent over, cupped cold water in his palms, splashed it on his left cheek six or seven times—until the marks gradually faded.

Outside, Song Yu watched his actions in silence, asking no questions.

Of course, the reason she had reminded him was, first, for his dignity.

Second, to give him a way out—to wait for Xiao Han and Zhou Shihe upstairs. She knew well: though this man had just seemed dissatisfied with Xiao Han and Zhou Shihe, and taken her away alone, his mind was surely twisting in knots.

She was, after all, a kind-hearted person; today was his birthday, and she didn’t want him to suffer too much.

After washing his face, Li Heng stepped out of the bathroom just as Zhou Shihe and Xiao Han descended the stairs one after the other—ten steps apart.

Seeing him look over, Zhou Shihe paused briefly, then passed him and quietly left the house.

Song Yu hesitated briefly, then, without waiting for Li Heng or Xiao Han, also left the 27th villa.

Xiao Han walked over, circled him once, saw he remained unmoved, circled him again, then looked up at him pitifully.

Seeing this sly wife’s expression, Li Heng chuckled and reached out to stroke her cheek.

But Xiao Han dodged nimbly, hands behind her back, speaking mournfully: “Mr. Li, I’m allergic to women.”

Why allergic to women?

Because Li Heng had just hugged Zhou Shihe—she was disgusted, jealous.

Saying this, Xiao Han also walked off directly, without waiting for him.