Lai Hui said, “Can we continue this after evening study?”
That evening, after study hall, they were the only two left in the classroom, and Jiayi kissed her. The taste of that first kiss was forgotten; all he remembered was the panic, fearing they’d be caught by a teacher or that classmates might return, yet unwilling to miss the golden opportunity he’d been contemplating all day. It was thrilling and nerve-wracking, his heart pounding as he clumsily held her face, kissing her eyes, nose, eyebrows, and chin before finding her lips, learning instinctively how to kiss.
Lai Hui said, “Your teeth hurt me.”
Jiayi replied, “I wanted to devour you then.”
After that day, Jiayi would walk her home every evening. Near the school was a steep slope without streetlights, their usual path. Going downhill, Jiayi would tell her to hold tight, and in the darkness, Lai Hui would hug his waist as the bike sped down, the chain clattering, the bike diving forward. Her face would be hit by the wind, and at that moment, they both thought he would carry her for a lifetime.
Jiayi only carried her for a month. One day, while going uphill, Lai Hui said, “Jiayi, let’s not ride anymore. Shall we walk home?”
Jiayi soon realized the benefits of walking; there were many routes home, and they could stroll through dark alleys where they could hold hands, hug, and kiss freely. Whenever they saw the light at the alley’s end, a sense of loss would creep in, signaling they must part ways where people and lights were.
Lai Hui suggested, “Shall we walk back?”
Jiayi agreed, turning back into the darkness with her hand in his. They walked that alley three or four times a day!
Looking back, Lai Hui would always say, “The security was really good back then!”
Jiayi would reply, “I was there to protect you!”
Xie Jiayi started the car and drove away from the Nanling Villa, the headlights illuminating the dark mountain road ahead, still endless black. On the way there, Lai Hui had been by his side; now, he was alone on the way back. The sign showed five kilometers to the tunnel; beyond the tunnel was the city where Xiao Yu lived. With Xiao Yu accompanying him on the dark roads ahead, his heart felt as solid as a rock, not lonely in the slightest. His hand moved to his left chest, where a sharp pain suddenly stabbed him!
Lai Hui sat back at her vanity, picking up a peach wood comb from amidst a pile of jewelry. As she combed her hair, tears inexplicably welled up, a sour pain in her heart. The comb caught on tangled hair, and as she tugged, a sharp pain from her scalp gave her tears a reason to flow, dropping onto the comb. A strand of red hair was caught in the teeth, and on the handle was engraved “Happiness and Auspiciousness!” Love and past memories had been cremated along with their hearts years ago, leaving only black ashes. She believed that her tears now were merely mourning, mourning the past on this day of reunion! As long as her mother was alive, she would be happy, she didn’t need anyone else’s protection, really didn’t!
The day before Zhou Yuqian returned, Cheng Lan was beaten and injured. When Lai Hui arrived at the hospital, she saw through the slightly ajar door a tall man pacing in front of the bed, his broad shoulders supporting a face full of rage, like a wandering knight from a martial arts drama. His large, dark hand slapped the bed frame.
“Damn it! That bitch actually hired someone to beat you, Alan. Don’t worry, I’ll divorce her when I get back. She doesn’t know who gave her the guts…”
Lai Hui pushed the door open and entered, saying, “Ouyang, your temper is quite something! Cheng Lan has just been wronged, and instead of comforting her, you’re throwing a fit here. Isn’t that a bit much?”
Seeing Lai Hui, Ouyang slightly restrained his anger, though his brows remained knotted with irritation.
“It’s good you’re here. Alan hasn’t said a word since she got to the hospital. Maybe you can talk to her…”
“You go handle your business; I’ll chat with her!” Lai Hui handed him his briefcase, ushering him out.
After Ouyang left, Lai Hui dared to look closely at Cheng Lan on the bed. Her face was swollen, with patches of ointment covering broken skin, her eyes black and swollen to slits, her right hand in a sling, her lips torn with raw flesh exposed. The sight was revolting! A delicate woman had been beaten into such a wretched state that Lai Hui was both furious and filled with compassion. Seeing that she was about to cry again, she quickly turned her back, rubbed her nose, and then sat down on the hospital bed. “Alan!” The slightly opened slit of her eyes revealed her battered lips moving, making a raspy sound. “Don’t ask how they beat me!” “No, I wasn’t going to ask, Alan, are there other injuries? I mean your legs!” Cheng Lan trembled with fear, and after a long moment, she said, “They’re broken!” Lai Hui could no longer hold back her tears, which fell freely as she gripped Cheng Lan’s only uninjured finger and cried, “Leave Ouyang, you don’t have to suffer like this for him. You can find a better job, why endure such humiliation?” A stream of clear tears flowed from the slit in her eyes, trickling to the back of her ear, her mangled lips trembling slightly. “I’d rather die than leave, at least not now. Even if it costs me my life, I won’t let her get away with this!” The finger Lai Hui was holding bent forcefully, leaving a burning mark in her palm. Cheng Lan’s voice rose sharply, sounding like a discordant flute, “Do you know? She hired five men to beat me. I passed out from the pain, and they broke my leg with a wooden stick while I was unconscious. I woke up in pain again, and she stepped on my face with her high heels. With such humiliation and pain, do you think I’d let her off?” Lai Hui shuddered in horror, her eyes wide as she looked at Cheng Lan. Through the slit, she saw not just tears, but hatred—a hatred deep enough to strip flesh from bone. She knew Cheng Lan was ruined; even if she left Ouyang, this traumatic experience would leave an indelible shadow on her life, and until death, she would hate that person. Perhaps, from this moment on, her life would be defined by hatred. Lai Hui didn’t know what Cheng Lan would do to retaliate, but knowing her fiery nature, which had changed much since falling in love with Ouyang, she might revert to her old self and do something foolish. Clutching her hand tightly despite the pain, Lai Hui trembled as she said, “Alan, don’t do anything foolish, promise me, don’t do anything foolish! Let Ouyang handle this, you just focus on healing, don’t overthink, okay?” Cheng Lan ignored her, her bruised eyes slowly closing like two black mandrakes of revenge, where her soul and blood were infused, nurturing a deep-seated hatred. Lai Hui’s heart went cold; any further words would be in vain. She could only grip Cheng Lan’s fingers with her sweaty palm, as if by doing so, Cheng Lan wouldn’t stray too far…
