Chapter 22 Guess!

Sometimes, a love that burns too fiercely can only bring pain to both parties.

Xue Zuining looked up in surprise, only to meet her earnest gaze. She heard her explain, "I've been by President Lu's side for three years. He has always worn a cold and indifferent face, yet never once lost control over a woman. It wasn't until I saw the way he looked as if he wanted to tear you apart when you called out 'Chen Sang' yesterday that I realized—he, too, is only human." Yang Qiong recalled that even when the old chairman and his wife both died unexpectedly, that man had hidden all his emotions deep within. Had she not witnessed it herself, she would never have believed that man capable of such anger for a woman.

But Xue Zuining was not surprised. The storm had passed, and sunlight now seemed dazzlingly bright outside the window. A bitter aftertaste of medicine lingered on her tongue, making it difficult to speak. "I'm nothing more than a plaything he wants to possess out of unwillingness to let go. How could he tolerate that, even as I offer myself to him, my mind is still filled with thoughts of another man? The women he's had before, besides their beauty and figures, all shared one thing in common—obedience, as docile as porcelain dolls."

Yang Qiong was taken aback. She didn't expect such candor, and Xue Zuining’s self-awareness left her puzzled. "If that's the case, why can't you learn to be obedient?"

"I wish I could," Xue Zuining answered, her voice weary. "I imagine myself acting, playing the role of the sweet, compliant girl for him, but precisely because I am an actress, I know how terrifying it is to lose yourself in a role. Once I'm in, how do I get out? Should I really, like those women, cling to his pant leg and beg for mercy after he throws me away without a second thought?" Unbidden, the memory of his predatory gaze that night flashed across her mind. She had never known that a single, sharp look could render her utterly powerless.

"Miss Xue," Yang Qiong stood up. "I've said all I can. Please think carefully about our conversation and consider the people you care about, be they family or lovers. None of them should suffer because of you. President Lu will come by after the afternoon meeting. I hope your words by then will be as clear as your thoughts. Blind resistance will only make a man more eager to conquer."

Xue Zuining shuddered. Yang Qiong bent down, pressing her left hand gently, and cautioned, "Don't move about, or next time the nurse will have to stick a needle in your foot."

"Secretary Yang, may I borrow your phone to call my mother?" Xue Zuining glanced around the room but couldn’t find her bag.

"Of course," Yang Qiong replied, handing her the phone from her purse.

Xue Zuining dialed the number. Her excuse of being on location was enough to convince her mother, who only reminded her to rest and mind the weather. As she responded cheerfully, the last face she wanted to see suddenly appeared at the door.

She hesitated, unsure whether to continue, afraid the man would expose her without a second thought. Then she heard a mocking chuckle. Looking up, she saw him standing there in an iron-gray suit, one hand in his pocket, his gaze full of mischief. On the other end, her mother was asking, "Hello? Ningning, why aren’t you speaking?"

Her fingers trembled. She quickly covered the receiver and whispered, "Mom, I have something urgent. I’ll call you later." Without waiting for a reply, she hung up.

"Your mother?" Lu Huaining strode closer, sneering, "I thought you were calling the police."

Staring at the well-dressed culprit, the events of the night before played out in Xue Zuining's mind—powerlessness, hatred, two raging fires burning in her chest. Yet a crushing desolation poured over her like a bucket of ice water, quenching the flames and leaving only a heap of blackened ashes.

Looking at herself, she wasn't even ashes, but a ruin—defiled, broken, and yet put on display like an exhibit for the perpetrator to admire. Amid her exhaustion, a trace of mockery rose from her heart, but her face remained frozen, her lips unable to curl even slightly. She truly was drained to the core.

In the midst of this tense situation, Yang Qiong had already left, thoughtfully closing the door behind her. She really did understand this man's intentions.

Lu Huaining sauntered to the bedside and sat down arrogantly in the chair. He reached out to stroke her bruised right hand, feigning concern, "Don’t worry, the bruises will fade soon and won’t delay your schedule. Remember to perform well—don’t embarrass me."

Xue Zuining avoided his hand as it moved toward her face. When she looked up, she found his eyes brimming with laughter. She met his gaze for a moment before looking away. Willpower and strength may not be proportional, but in her current wretched state, she could muster neither. Faced with such a powerful and hateful adversary, she was dispirited and muttered, "I want to rest now. Please leave." She then lay back, pulling the blanket over her face.

As expected, the blanket was immediately yanked away. The man’s mocking voice rang out, "Rest all you want, but don’t suffocate yourself. This is a hospital. Even if you reach death’s door, they’ll drag you back—understand?"

Xue Zuining opened her eyes and looked at him calmly. "Do you feel proud of yourself now?"

His dark eyes shone like obsidian, dazzling and full of confidence that brooked no denial. "What do you think?"

"I’ve realized that I can’t understand you, no matter what you’re like." Drunk or sober, she would always choose to run away from him.

Lu Huaining was startled for a moment, then smiled, as if she had hit upon his very thoughts, though his words came out gentle. "How could you not understand me? Or is it that the only one you understand is your old flame?"

Xue Zuining’s eyes widened in shock, but the man simply leaned back in his chair, watching her and saying slowly, "Rest well. A beautiful future is still waiting for you."