Chapter 203

Song Mo fell silent for a while.

He had actually been questioning his own heart all along.

Asking himself, what kind of image did An Yinuo actually hold in his heart.

In his past life, An Yinuo always brought him a lot of trouble, but that kind of trouble was only within the realm of annoyance, and couldn't be considered hatred at all.

Liu Meiyun and Leng Wanqiu, those two women, were the ones who truly deserved to die.

Song Mo felt that he was not a tolerant and open-minded person, but neither was he someone who couldn't tell right from wrong.

Was An Yinuo wrong?

Of course she was wrong.

But overall, it was actually still within an acceptable range.

Especially after awakening his past-life memories, An Yinuo had become more and more humble, as if Lin Weiwei had never been as proactive as An Yinuo.

For example, she spent three whole years helping Leng Wanqiu, never once suspecting her, only to end up being viciously backstabbed in the end.

Everything could be slowly trained.

【I want to take more than I give】

Song Mo had actually been a pure-love believer in the past.

【With conditions like these, will she accept?】

Of course, he still wouldn't now either.

But...

But in this life, Song Mo felt that there still had to be a bottom line.

Because his tastes were high, being chased and licked after by An Yinuo and Lin Weiwei, he now only played with the high-end goods.

【The An Yinuo I want is an An Yinuo who completely listens to me, who does whatever I tell her to do, everything must revolve around me, that is, becoming my vassal】

He had also never thought of going to indulge in the neon-lit, decadent, debauched world.

【It's a pity, after all so many things have happened, even if I were to accept An Yinuo, it would be very hard for us to have a normal romantic relationship】

But it seemed, being a little bad wasn't entirely out of the question?

Tell a joke.

What's more.

An Yinuo had set her posture very low, going to great lengths to curry favor with him, although she was still a bit clumsy at the moment, somewhat like a little puppy who had just learned how to please its master.

But overall, ever since Song Mo accepted the Xia Yu and Xia Rou sisters back then, he was destined to never again be a pure-love believer, and would most likely not be satisfied with merely two.

His physical constitution was very strong, able to withstand the test.

He had truly considered spending a lifetime with Leng Wanqiu back then; even though he was young and accomplished at the time, full of vigor, already a billionaire at the age of twenty-something.

Her attitude was very good.

Having gone through so much, if his past-life self still had a strong sense of justice, he could even be considered a foolish good person.

"An Yinuo, you like me that much?"

"Do you know how cheap you look right now? And, you should know, the more you have no reserve, the less I will actually cherish you."

Song Mo thought about it, he felt some things were still better said out in the open.

No need to harbor dark thoughts, then scheme and calculate, instead acting like a rat hiding in a gutter.

He could of course just coax and deceive An Yinuo, casually give her a little care, then like a bandit and robber, occupy everything she had.

He could rely on An Yinuo's affection, coerce and trick her into filming some lewd and shameless videos, constantly demanding everything from An Yinuo, making her whole world revolve around him, then the sunk cost getting higher and higher, the whole person sinking into the quagmire named "Song Mo."

Never to come out again.

In other words, Song Mo could tame her like a dog.

An Yinuo fell silent.

She said softly: "Song Mo, sometimes I struggle too, and that is, I do indeed look very cheap, and every rejection from you, and the silent treatment, actually hurts me a lot inside."

"But... if I can't see you, can't hear your voice, can't smell your scent, I'll feel even worse..."

"Some say love is equal, but I feel love can never be equal, there must always be one side that profits."

"However, simply measuring love by profit, measuring love by high and low, noble and base, is actually too vulgar, and it objectifies and rigidifies love."

"Like a simp, he can indeed get satisfaction in the process of simping, so no matter what outsiders say about him, he will never change."

"Love is an unequal scale, destined to have one side as the exploiter, one side as the exploited, but I think the romantic part of it is, even being exploited feels sweet..."

Whether what An Yinuo said was right or not, Song Mo didn't know.

But he roughly understood:

An Yinuo was dead set on being his dog.

Song Mo said directly:

"An Yinuo, are you trying to be my dog?"

The word "dog" was somewhat too humiliating; after hearing it, a feeling of humiliation and shame flashed through An Yinuo's heart.

However.

She was just that humble, just that base.

Her cheeks were burning, her body trembling slightly, and inside, besides shame, there was actually another kind of strange sense of fulfillment.

An Yinuo leaned her head against Song Mo's shoulder.

"I don't want to be your dog."

"I want to be your wife, but, if I can't be your wife..."

"Whatever you want to treat me as, just treat me as that."

When the love-brain gives itself away for free.

He really doesn't care about anything anymore.

Song Mo was moved; he knew there were people in this world who liked being dogs—some perverts in the letter circle, driven by sexual desire and stimulation.

They longed to be dominated, longed to be conquered by powerful force.

Some people wanted to be dogs, unrelated to sex at all.

It seemed that becoming a canine, having a master, being free from thought, releasing oneself from pressure, seeking a simple kind of happiness.

But.

Clearly, An Yinuo was not such a person.

She simply loved Song Mo.

She craved Song Mo's love.

She loved him so much that if she couldn't be loved as a wife, she'd be loved as a mistress.

Even.

Being treated like a dog, at least she'd get the love a master gives a pet.

(—Almost wrote a porn novel.)

Song Mo remembered a poem, a very famous poem.

"I wish to become a stone bridge, enduring five hundred years of wind, five hundred years of sun, five hundred years of rain, just to have her walk across me."

This poem is widely regarded as a romantic love poem.

Song Mo believed it was the best argument for the romanticism of love lying precisely in its inequality.

To offer up everything of oneself, merely to be stepped on—you say, how lowly is this person?

Yet everyone who sees this poem finds it romantic.

An Yinuo was equally lowly; she clung desperately just to give herself freely, claiming she wanted to compete for affection, but the moment Song Mo offered even a shred of care or favor, she'd wag her tail like a WoW team, beaming with joy.

Lowly or not? Lowly.

Song Mo liked lowly women.

His voice grew low.

Laden with undeniable power and resolve.

"An Yinuo, this is your choice."

"To be my dog, willingly."

(End of Chapter)