Chapter 226: I can pretend this never happened

The door of the private room was pushed open; unlike the luxurious private room they were in, this one was slightly smaller. The front area was for entertaining and leisure, and behind the sliding glass door was a resting area with a bed and a sofa.

The glass on the sliding door was colored, covered with uneven patterns, so from the outer room you couldn't see inside.

Xu Yanfeng went around that door and saw an unforgettable scene. Xia Xi had bare arms, entwined with Zhou Du on the snow‑white large bed, and on the carpet beside the bed lay opened contraceptives.

The two, startled by the noise, simultaneously turned their heads; the surprise and panic on their faces were strikingly obvious.

Xu Yanfeng's pupils contracted then dilated; the scene before him overlapped with an image deep in his memory.

Back then he was little, just over eight, his ninth birthday not yet arrived; because he mistakenly ate beef and had an allergic reaction, the teacher sent him home early. The house was quiet, the butler and maid were out, he wandered alone, heard a commotion from his parents' room, pushed open the ajar door, and stood frozen in place.

Xu Guanshan noticed, propped himself up from the bed, and looked at him through the half‑open door crack.

That was the first time he saw a look akin to panic on his father's face.

A young woman, her upper body bare, clung to Xu Guanshan's neck and coquettishly asked what was wrong.

That woman he called Aunt Zhai; she was Xu Guanshan's secretary, whom he had seen many times. She treated him well, and whenever she came to the house to deliver documents for Xu Guanshan, she would also bring him a few books—adventure novels he liked.

He felt nauseous, stepped back, and hurriedly ran downstairs, but accidentally fell down the stairs, striking his elbow on the step edge and breaking it; he wore a cast for a month.

Zhong Yinghong returned from her parents' home, heartbroken and in tears, cupping his small face and saying, 'How can you be so careless? You're already a big kid—how can you still fall on the stairs?'

He didn't utter a sound.

At first he couldn't bring himself to speak, and later he simply couldn't open his mouth; to this day Zhong Yinghong doesn't know why.

His injured right elbow, to avoid affecting his studies, he always secretly wrote behind Zhong Yinghong's back, causing the bone not to heal properly; even now there is a strange bump on his elbow.

In his understanding, his parents were loving; at the age when he didn't yet know what love was, they gave him the finest example, and he always believed he lived in a happy, blissful family—until Xu Guanshan shattered the illusory mirror with his own hands and dragged him into reality.

For many years after, even to this day, that scene occasionally surfaced in his mind and dreams, becoming a thorn lodged in his heart, an inescapable shadow.

It sounds ridiculous—he who seemed omnipotent is actually troubled by such a matter.

Are such examples rare around him? In wealthy families, they can be said to be commonplace. Not speaking of far away, just take his few childhood friends: when Luojinnan was thirteen, the illegitimate son of his same age was taken back, causing an uproar in the household; a few days later, the family nevertheless sat happily together at the same dinner table, as if the grudge had never existed, as if that illegitimate son had always lived in the family.

Only he is an oddity, forever unable to let go, unwilling to believe again that any love in this world could be flawless and indestructible.

He does not believe in love.

Thus Xia Xi pursued him; although he clearly knew his own heart had been moved, he refused to give her an answer.

Compared with possibly breaking up in the future, even if the chance were only one in ten thousand, he would rather not start at all.

He is fearful by nature—afraid she is merely a passing fancy, afraid she will leave midway, afraid she will deceive… he overthinks endlessly, yet in the end he cannot resist his fondness for her; he lowered his guard, pulled out the thorn in his heart, and stayed with her.

When he agreed to be with her, how could he have imagined that one day she would personally drive that thorn deeper into his heart, deeper than when he was eight?

Xu Yanfeng's eyes turned blood‑red; he forced himself to look away, turned his back, blocked the gaze of the others who had followed him in, his thin lips parted, and a voice that seemed not his own said: 'Get out.'

Xia Xi wasn't wearing clothes; she couldn't just walk out like that.

Tang Yizhou was so shocked he could not speak; he had been the one to lead the charge in, though he shouted 'Catch the adulterers,' he never imagined they'd actually be caught in bed. He thought Xia Xi and that man would at most be intimate, never expecting them to end up rolling onto the bed.

If this isn't infidelity, what is?

The evidence is as solid as a mountain; there's no room for argument!

Ling Yan's heart raced wildly, she forgot to maintain her composure, her eyes stared wide as if about to pop out, the corners of her mouth twitched, wanting to laugh, but she clenched her teeth hard to hold it in.

Xia Xi truly was even more self‑destructive than she had imagined.

The several people present remained silent, withdrawing from the inner room with complicated feelings, not making a sound the whole way.

Xu Yanfeng braced one hand against the edge of the sliding door, veins standing out on the back of his hand; he closed his eyes, wanted to say something, but ultimately said nothing, walked out, and gave the two on the bed behind him time to dress and tidy up.

If he weren't so upright, turning his head just now would reveal Xia Xi lifting the blanket—inside she wore a white strapless top, covering everything except her arms and neck, which were tightly wrapped.

She put on a knitted sweater, smoothed the deliberately tousled hair into softness; her heart was already numb from pain, and instead she felt nothing at all—all her senses had vanished.

Zhou Du left before her; just as he passed Xu Yanfeng's side, Xu Yanfeng turned sideways, grabbed his collar, and punched him.

Half his face felt like it would kill him, a rush of bloody taste flooded his mouth; Zhou Du's expression remained blank, of course he couldn't fight back. He sighed silently, knowing the beating was inevitable and unavoidable.

Xia Xi approached, grabbed Xu Yanfeng's arm. She didn't use much force, but Xu Yanfeng released his grip; she stood between them, turned her head, and glanced at Zhou Du.

Zhou Du lowered his head, silent; probably feeling guilty, unable to face Xu Yanfeng, he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, cleaning away the blood.

It was precisely Xia Xi's glance toward Zhou Du that stimulated Xu Yanfeng; his tense facial muscles twitched, a sheen of moisture quickly covered his eyes, and he turned his face away.

Three seconds later, Xu Yanfeng turned his head back to look at her; the moisture at the bottom of his eyes had been suppressed, his Adam's apple rolled down, and he didn't know how he had managed to utter those words—so humiliating, so undignified, his pride fed to the dogs.

"Xia Xi, if you just say you were drunk, your mind not clear, I can pretend this never happened."

Tang Yizhou and the others hadn't gone far; they were still in the outer room, and each word Xu Yanfeng spoke came through clearly to their ears. They all agreed he had lost his reason from anger, which made him blurt out such talk.

Even without breaking up, he actually still thought of trying to keep her.

Tang Yizhou had nothing to say to Xu Yanfeng; he snapped at the dazed Xia Xi, 'Slut.'

Xu Yanfeng didn't even glance at him, roaring, 'Get lost!'

Tang Yizhou: '……'

Crazy, crazy—Xu Yanfeng really is crazy.

Not to mention others, even Xia Xi herself found it absurd; she clenched her palms tightly, repeating to herself, 'I've come this far—I can't be soft‑hearted, I can't fail at the last moment.'

She thought her heart was already numb from pain, but it could hurt even more, as if torn open, blood gushing out. Enduring that pain, she said, 'I haven't drunk alcohol.'

Xu Yanfeng stared at her, unsure whether he had laughed—probably he had, laden with bitter self‑mockery: 'Why?'

Why betray him? What's wrong with him?

Even now he still wanted to ask for a reason; he also felt foolish, his mind a blank white expanse, like after a snowstorm—nothing left but endless white.

"After talking with you I realized we're unsuitable; fundamentally I don't really like someone like you."

Xia Xi recited the lines she had rehearsed countless times, like an emotionless machine. But did she really have no feelings? If not, why did her whole body ache, why such pain, as if she were about to die?

It turns out people can die from extreme anguish; she felt she could not breathe.

Who will come to save her……