Chapter 21: Kiss First, Talk Later

While eating, Wen Ling would occasionally glance at Zhou Yinhe, but he merely lowered his eyes and ate seriously.

Wen Ling could only initiate conversation, using the public chopsticks to pick out what he liked and softly said, "I remember you like this."

Zhou Yinhe paused, then said indifferently, "I don't like it anymore."

Wen Ling pressed her lips, then embarrassedly put down the public chopsticks.

The lunch continued in silence. After finishing, Zhou Yinhe lifted his eyes for the first time since entering the restaurant and looked at Wen Ling, his tone still icy: "Finished?"

Wen Ling nodded, and Zhou Yinhe stood up: "Let's go after we're done."

He often came to this restaurant, so the owner put the bill on his account. The two stood at the entrance, Zhou Yinhe facing Wen Ling, his gaze like a layer of frost, cold without warmth.

"You can leave."

Wen Ling's fingertips trembled slightly; meeting his icy gaze, her chest felt as if a heavy, cold iron plate were pressing down.

"Zhou Yinhe." She uttered his name, stepped forward, grabbed his collar, rose on her toes, and lightly kissed him.

Zhou Yinhe stepped back, turned his head to avoid her, and snapped, "What are you doing!"

Wen Ling gave a bitter smile and softly asked, "May I hug you again?"

Zhou Yinhe remained silent. Seeing this, Wen Ling knew he had acquiesced—or was still hesitating—so she simply stepped forward and tightened her arms around his waist, her arms trembling as they drew tighter.

Zhou Yinhe lowered his eyes, his clenched fingers aching; he stubbornly resisted returning her embrace, feeling as if a crack had opened in his chest, cold wind whistling through, making him feel rather ridiculous at that moment.

After a long while, Zhou Yinhe said coldly and sternly, "Enough."

Wen Ling gave a muffled hum, stepped back, and with a forced smile said, "Goodbye."

Zhou Yinhe turned and left without a word; Wen Ling stood where she was, watching his back, then suddenly ran after him, intercepted the startled Zhou Yinhe, rose on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and bit his lips.

Caught off guard, Zhou Yinhe stumbled back a step as her assault hit him; his blood seemed to freeze, and by the time he regained his senses, Wen Ling had bitten a split in his lip.

He felt only anger and helplessness surge from his heart, shoved Wen Ling away hard, stared at her with a grim, fractured gaze, gritted his back teeth, and spat out word by word: "Wen Ling, what exactly are you trying to do!"

Wen Ling bit her lip, her eyes slightly red, lashes trembling as she complained, "Is it really so wrong that I just want to kiss you once before I leave? Before, whenever I left you, I would actively kiss others."

Zhou Yinhe let out a deep breath, feeling that if he stayed any longer he would go mad, and he strode straight past Wen Ling and left.

Wen Ling waited until he was far away before dropping her hurt expression, tilted her head to watch his retreating back, then suddenly burst out laughing like a child who had successfully pulled a prank.

"Leave? Dream on." Every word she spoke and every expression she wore was meant to deceive Zhou Yinhe.

Wen Ling walked lightly in the opposite direction from Zhou Yinhe, the corners of her mouth irrepressibly turning up.

Who cares? Kiss first, talk later—as long as she's happy now, that's fine.

Wen Ling is someone who seizes the moment for pleasure; just now, when Zhou Yinhe said he'd let her go back, her mind clicked and she figured out how to trick him into having a meal together, then seize the chance to extract some benefits.

Zhou Yinhe strode off fuming, went far before glancing back—Wen Ling was nowhere to be seen.

His lips pressed into a straight line, his brows and eyes filled with unresolved irritation.

Wen Ling had agreed to leave; he ought to have been pleased.

Zhou Yinhe rubbed his aching chest, which felt tight from his breathing, then returned to the company and locked himself in the rest room—no amount of knocking would help.

Qi Zhan called him, but he didn't answer, so he called Cheng Yu instead.

Cheng Yu glanced at the tightly shut rest room door and said softly, "General Manager Zhou has been in the rest room since he arrived at the company and hasn't come out."

Jiang Jibai stood beside Qi Zhan, hearing Cheng Yu's words, lowered his eyes to fiddle with a lighter, a flicker of emotion crossing his gaze.

Wen Ling had no idea how Zhou Yinhe looked after she angered him; she leisurely wandered the nearby malls and even got interested in doing a nice manicure.

She returned home to find Hehe asleep on the sofa; she didn't bother whether she was disturbing him, went over, hugged him, and smothered him in fervent kisses.

Hehe irritably tried to kick her off; Wen Ling knew Hehe well, dodged, then held up the back of her hand and asked, "Look, does it look good?"

Hehe flicked his tail, thumping the sofa with bangs; ignoring her, Wen Ling, pleased from taking advantage of Zhou Yinhe, didn't mind his indifference and hummed a tune as she went upstairs.

Wen Ling decided to hide for a few days, letting Zhou Yinhe think she had truly left; so she chose to spend a few days playing in a nearby city, returning to Sijiucheng only before the Glowing Light Banquet.

And Zhou Yinhe truly believed Wen Ling had left.

While drinking with his childhood friends, Jiang Jibai said, "That plot of land has been secured, and I've sent the video to Wu Feng."

Zhou Yinhe sat on a high stool, turning it with one foot, and gave a faint hum.

Qi Zhan and a few others were playing mahjong; glancing at him now and then, he finally said, "You've been acting off lately."

Even if he were slow to react, he could feel it—these past days Zhou Yinhe was like someone just emerged from an ice cellar, exuding a cold aura, indifferent to everyone, attending the gathering with a stern face.

Jiang Jibai snorted, unmoved by courtesy, and mocked, "Anyone with a brain could guess it's because of whom."

Zhou Yinhe lifted his eyelids coldly, glanced at the few people chuckling, pushed his glass aside, stood up, and was about to leave.

"Why are you leaving? Sulking because you're embarrassed, or just don't want to hear the truth?" Jiang Jibai leaned against the sofa back, drawling, "Since you've decided not to reconcile, just be more open-hearted—if they don't come looking for you and you're still unhappy, you were narrow-minded as a child, and you haven't changed."

Everyone present were Zhou Yinhe's childhood friends who had grown up with him, all a few years older, naturally well aware of his stubborn nature since youth; hearing Jiang Jibai's words, they no longer gave him face and all laughed out loud.

Zhou Yinhe gritted his teeth and said, "When have I ever been unhappy?"

Qi Zhan laid out the mahjong tiles and countered, "When have you been happy lately?"

"I'm sick, so I can't." Zhou Yinhe turned, glared at him angrily, and self-mockingly said.

"Fine, why not—hurry back and sit down; let me, your brother, give you a proper lesson." Ke Chengyu rose, pulled Zhou Yinhe to the sofa edge, pressed him down, then laughed, saying, "It's just a woman—if you want a brother with three legs, you could find a way; stop obsessing over one woman."

Zhou Yinhe crossed his arms, wearing a look that said, "Say whatever you want; I won't listen anyway."

"If you still like her, just make up." Jiang Jibai poured him a drink and handed over the cup.

Zhou Yinhe turned his face away and said coldly, "I don't like her."