Chapter 139: Liancheng’s Conclusion: He’s A Pervert
Liancheng’s gaze was focused on the dining plate. The tabletop pattern was a black and white checkerboard, a style that the West seemed to favor.
Starting from the racing flags’ black and white checkerboard pattern on racetracks in the earliest 1970s, it further influenced street culture with a new image of speed and passion, becoming a symbol of youthful trends.
The visual impact was extremely strong.
Liancheng did not grasp the racing culture within it. She was retro and old-fashioned, still seeing only a chessboard.
Offense and defense, back and forth, swordplay and shadows spread invisibly, ultimately seeing who was more skillful and won.
“My thoughts are simple. I often find myself ridiculously stupid and I’m reluctant to hit myself,” Liancheng said, lowering her head, revealing the thick, jet-black top of her hair. Liang Chaosu couldn’t see her expression. “On the other hand, you are veiled and mysterious, with deep thoughts.”
Liang Chaosu gazed at her intently.
His gaze was on the full contour of her head, her long hair falling loosely, covering her cheeks. Her delicate, fair ear tips were faintly visible between her strands of hair, like jade.
She was perceptive enough, and also cold enough, like a stone that was impervious to anything. If she decided someone was bad, she wouldn’t soften or waver for a moment during their long interactions, and would try every means to leave.
She always refused to stop, or to change direction, to look at him, approach him, contact him, or understand him.
“Then I was honest before,” Liang Chaosu leaned back in his chair. He had also taken off his thick jacket, revealing a close-fitting cashmere sweater. His chest was broad and lean, his stomach flat, making it impossible to tell if he had eaten.
“Do you believe it?”
Liancheng looked up. His posture was not proper; it even hinted at languor and carelessness, yet it was permeated with something boundless.
It was indescribable.
Liancheng unexpectedly thought again of the fright she had when he explicitly stated he would support her before she went abroad.
Their eyes met, and Liancheng suddenly asked, “Do you find resisting worldly affairs tiring?”
A small spotlight was suspended above the dining table, illuminating everything on the surface. They were separated only by this table, and the yellowish light and shadow made them completely exposed.
She was like a hedgehog that had curled up for too long and too tightly. When people outside knocked, even if it was earth-shattering, she finally perceived something was wrong, slowly relaxed, and glanced at him.
Liancheng saw his smile spread from the depths of his eyes, forming wrinkles at the corners. “Tiring, and not tiring.”
At this very moment, he wasn’t being erratic; he spoke properly, answering every question. She wasn’t going crazy; her attitude was calm, and she didn’t avoid the questions.
Actually, Liancheng had always felt that their relationship over these four years was extremely weird and especially tiring.
During the most critical explosions, it was sharper and more real. When it was warm and peaceful, they became more distant.
He had his own schemes, and she had her own plans.
Each with their own hidden agenda.
The present was no different.
The logic of her taming condition was only missing a little bit.
Liang Chaosu’s gains and what he paid were not proportional.
He would resist all worldly affairs just to marry a woman like her, who was neither rare nor precious.
It sounded like a typical “CEO falls in love with me” romance novel, completely absurd and unbelievable, controlled by a stupid author with a hopelessly romantic brain.
Did Liang Chaosu seem like that?
Liancheng looked back at the past four years and felt that he did not.
Liang Chaosu was too real. He was almost thirty, and the distant indifference he exuded became increasingly clear and oppressive, filled with the complexity of human nature.
He possessed the most primitive predatory instincts of humanity, capable of life and death, conquest and cruelty. With such an intense temperament, he was also extremely cold and aloof, rejecting anyone who tried to get close.
Liancheng hadn’t majored in psychology, but such a vast difference in personality either indicated schizophrenia or an extremely dangerous personality type, in short, a pervert.
They liked lives full of challenges; the higher the difficulty, the more pleasure they felt, and Liancheng was like the challenge Liang Chaosu set for himself, a goal placed in front of him.
“You are now—” Liang Chaosu leaned forward, staring at her for a while. “Insulting me.”
His tone was certain.
Liancheng raised her hand to signal a waiter while replying, “I’m thinking you’re smart.”
An extremely dangerous personality, emotionally indifferent, and extremely intelligent.
The waiter approached. “Hello, what service do you require?”
Liancheng impolitely indicated Liang Chaosu. “He’ll pay, and then please bring my clothes. Thank you.”
The first part was taken for granted, the latter part humble and kind.
Liang Chaosu would usually smile, but for some reason, he couldn’t today. He took out his bank card and handed it to the waiter.
…………………………
The next day.
Liancheng did not go out. She had preliminarily finalized a plan with Shen Lichuan. He needed time to communicate with the gang again, and she also needed to rest well and gather her strength to deal with Father Liang.
The light boat has passed ten thousand mountains, and outside the Wumeng Mountains are mountains upon mountains.
And this mountain beyond mountain posed by Father Liang, while seemingly dangerous, was not simple at all.
After her breakfast, she slept again early.
Indoors, the curtains were drawn, creating a dim, hazy atmosphere. A blurry shadow lay on the sofa by the bed, illuminated by the faint glow of the computer screen.
Liancheng turned over and sat up. “Why aren’t you in the study?”
Downstairs in the villa, there was an open-plan small study with a solid wood desk and a soft chair, which was a hundred times more comfortable than lounging on the narrow sofa in the bedroom.
Liang Chaosu looked up, his voice slightly hoarse. “Are you still sleeping? If not, open the curtains.”
Liancheng felt for the curtain remote on the headboard. “What time is it?”
Her voice was also hoarse. She hadn’t slept comfortably; it was like the suppressed calm before a major battle, something she could endure, but not true peace and reassurance.
Liang Chaosu put down the computer and walked to the bedside, handing her water. “It’s eleven. Do you still want to go out this afternoon?”
Liancheng drank some water and shook her head. It involved the hospital; even if the gang agreed to her plan, it would be considered lightning-fast if it took a whole day to implement.
But she had an agreement with Old Ghost to meet and leave tomorrow noon.
Father Liang’s men had already arrived in Iceland. He would definitely make a move domestically, forcing Liang Chaosu to return. If she lingered now, she would consume Liang Chaosu’s patience.
Annoying him might lead him to think of other extreme measures, causing changes and preventing her from escaping, which would be a huge loss for her.
A barely perceptible “click” from the curtain’s slider, and the curtain opened completely. It was deep night in Iceland, with no sunrise at this hour, and profound darkness outside the glass, all was silent.
Liang Chaosu’s brows showed a hint of fatigue, with bloodshot eyes and dark circles underneath, a sense of overwhelming, broken exhaustion. “Then what about tomorrow?”
Liancheng stared at him, and after a long while, opened her mouth as if to say something.
Liang Chaosu’s mobile phone rang. He picked it up, and a domestic number flickered on the screen, vaguely familiar, but he hadn’t saved it.
Liancheng couldn’t recall it for a moment.
The man raised his hand to press his forehead. “There’s food in the kitchen downstairs. I’m going to take a call.”
Liang Chaosu walked out of the bedroom and went to the small terrace on the second floor. It was called a terrace, but it wasn’t very large, less than two square meters, and seemed to be a place specifically left for men to smoke.
Su Chenghuai’s assistant rushed to the secretary’s office from the moment the call was connected.
For these past few days, they had found it extremely difficult to contact Vice Chairman Liang. Online communication via computer was met with sporadic replies, and phone calls often went unanswered.
Su Chenghuai had simply given his secondary number to his assistant and instructed them to call every hour, and if it wasn’t answered, to wait until the next hour.
Unexpectedly, the call at seven this morning went through on the first try.
