Chapter 209: Definition
Hanging up the phone, Lian Cheng turned around.
Xiao Da waited not far, not near, with an unnatural expression.
She didn’t expect Feng Shien to bring up her background again.
Xiao Da didn’t move away; Lian Cheng thought he had probably heard.
She didn’t ask, and brought up another matter, “I’m sorry if this is a bit presumptuous, but you must be able to sense Bai Ying’s feelings for you. Do you have any feelings for Bai Ying?”
Xiao Da was already prepared for her to bring this up, “Miss Lian Cheng, I apologize.”
“No need to apologize.” Lian Cheng paused. “The most basic principle of romantic relationships is mutual consent, and besides, this is your private matter.”
Xiao Da relaxed.
Lian Cheng perceived it and couldn’t say anything further.
She herself didn’t like being coerced. Xiao Da was hired by Liang Chaosu; his help was purely professional, and there was this existing relationship.
No matter how she phrased it, even if she stated there was no coercion, the pressure of their professional relationship was inherently present for Xiao Da.
It was a subtle form of being involved.
Lian Cheng retreated.
Xiao Da didn’t expect her to stop asking and felt a warmth in his heart. “Thank you for Bai Ying’s favor, Miss. I will explain things clearly to her in person.”
Lian Cheng breathed a sigh of relief and couldn’t help but smile.
This was the ideal state for a relationship: one party pursued just enough, and the other declined while still respecting their feelings.
She pointed the way, “Bai Ying is in the small garden downstairs.”
Xiao Da paused for a moment, “Okay, I’ll go now.”
He strode away, then seemed to remember something, looked at his watch, and apologetically asked Lian Cheng for a favor.
“Mr. He sent over a lot of documents from Qingxi Valley this morning and instructed that Mr. Liang must review them by 3 PM. I don’t have time to process them, and only a few are left now. Could you please help me organize them?”
His figure strode away quickly, not waiting for the elevator, and disappeared into the fire escape.
A gust of cold wind rushed in as the door panel lifted, shouting at him that he was doing this intentionally. He slammed the door shut forcefully, feeling guilty like a thief.
Lian Cheng couldn’t give Bai Ying good news, nor could she bring Xiao Da back. She steadied herself and returned to the hospital room.
The door had not been closed.
The man heard footsteps and looked up from the screen. The bright white sunlight had already flooded his bedside, clearly illuminating one of his hands.
His palm was large, his fingers long and slender. Apart from the raised scar, the strong bones were very aesthetically pleasing.
“I’m helping Xiao Da organize documents.”
He gestured to the window side, his calmness creating a sense of detachment. “They’re over there.”
Lian Cheng acutely sensed something was wrong, didn’t close the door, and walked towards the window.
“Close it.”
Liang Chaosu’s gaze remained fixed on the screen, as if saying it casually.
Lian Cheng stiffened and stopped near the foot of the bed, looking at him.
Liang Chaosu’s fingers tapped on the keyboard, still absorbed, without any deliberate action.
“The corridor is crowded and noisy.”
Lian Cheng returned and closed the door, then went to the window. Xiao Da had a habit of piling things when sorting files; depending on the folder material, stacking five could potentially cause them to slide.
He could stack over ten, maintaining a precarious “independence.” Lian Cheng skipped the highest stack and opened the lowest one.
She felt a gaze on her back, deep, profound, and gloomily fixed on her.
Lian Cheng turned her face.
Liang Chaosu didn’t dodge or evade, but looked directly into her eyes.
“Why didn’t you call the police?”
Lian Cheng: “Do you want to hear a lie?”
Liang Chaosu fell silent. He had once strongly disliked feelings stemming from lies; even if good, they felt false, offering no glimpse of true sincerity, a constant unease, like a lump in his throat.
Now, he even wanted to deceive himself; it would be fine if she had ulterior motives, even if she was just placating him.
“Are you going to Hong Kong?”
Lian Cheng wasn’t surprised. “Did Xiao Da tell you?”
The screen’s dim light shone into the man’s pupils. The light was white, his eyes were dark, and his eye sockets looked like wounds carved by a knife.
There was no blood, but it was a different kind of terrifying.
Lian Cheng’s heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively took a few steps back, wanting to leave.
She hadn’t immediately agreed to Feng Shien on the phone.
Now, she seemed free; working as a secretary after returning to the country, renting an apartment, and taking care of her teacher in the hospital, but there was a condition: she had to abide by the agreement, stay by his side, be permitted by him, and be controlled by him.
Investigating her background and contacting the Mo family undoubtedly went beyond Liang Chaosu’s control.
But that recording had confused her; her perception of Liang Chaosu seemed inaccurate, making his actions full of uncertainty.
Lian Cheng couldn’t confirm what he would do.
She stopped again, deciding to be straightforward and stop guessing, “I have intentions.”
Liang Chaosu “slammed” his laptop shut and tossed it aside.
“Do you believe Feng Shien?”
He sat on the hospital bed, a needle inserted in his wrist. The transparent IV line had limited reach. Lian Cheng wasn’t afraid. “It has nothing to do with belief; it’s just a trip.”
“And then?”
Lian Cheng suddenly didn’t understand. “What then?”
Liang Chaosu’s tone remained calm, so calm that there wasn’t the slightest ripple, a stiff sense of suppression.
“If you are connected to the Mo family, what will you do?”
Lian Cheng froze.
She stood in place, saying nothing.
The room fell into a gradually solidifying silence.
Liang Chaosu waited patiently. The more he waited, the more his eye sockets seemed to collapse, a heavy sense of falling away, like a loss of control, yet he remained motionless.
He remained silent, solemn, waiting for her.
Lian Cheng felt a sense of crisis and turned to leave in shock.
Just as she rounded the bed, a gust of wind suddenly lunged from her side. Liang Chaosu’s movements were exceptionally swift, and his arms were long. He grabbed her arm and pulled.
Lian Cheng lost her balance, her feet leaving the ground, and she fell into the bedding, fitting snugly into his embrace.
The steel needle in his hand was pulled out, and a crimson line of blood flowed, splashing onto Lian Cheng’s cheek and collar.
In the early spring sunlight, her fair skin tone, the rich, vibrant red, the ambiguous and dangerous posture, and the shocking location.
Lian Cheng’s hair stood on end. She struggled with all her might, her arms flailing. “Liang Chaosu—”
He ignored her, his broad, strong back arching forward, a suffocating shadow enveloping her from head to toe.
It was a kiss.
It couldn’t be described as wild, because he wasn’t intense; she often interrupted him with slaps.
The next moment, it happened again.
She interrupted him again.
This time, the man’s patience was gone.
In Lian Cheng’s vision, there were a pair of deep, cold eyes, thick sorrow, surging despondency, fear, and more like madness.
“Reject Feng Shien.”
Lian Cheng’s face sank, a look of profound horror, suppressing her gasps. “I reject you.”
Her eyes were piercingly cold, filled with animosity and vigilance. Liang Chaosu then kissed her eyes.
“I told you a long time ago not to trust Feng Shien. An ambitious illegitimate child who runs errands for others wants to drag you into trouble.”
Lian Cheng almost scoffed.
The trouble was real, she wasn’t stupid. Whether Feng Shien was acting deliberately was uncertain; people’s hearts are hard to fathom, and she wouldn’t judge rashly.
But his arrogance was real, his sarcasm was real, and within a day, his old ways had resurfaced.
“Why are you willing to let me record?”
Liang Chaosu gazed at her.
A thousand times, a hundred times, she didn’t believe him.
She brought it up proactively to refute him.
But she asked, and he answered.
“I want you.”
Lian Cheng’s breathing became erratic and rapid. The small mole on her nose trembled slightly, her eyelashes fluttered more intensely, like a long-marked prey, entangled by hot breaths and bodies until death.
Liang Chaosu lowered his eyes to gaze at her, raised his hand to caress her face, with affection and care, yet also like a deterrence. “Lian Cheng, do you admit it? This is not a game.”
