If It’s Wrong, Then It’s Wrong - Chapter 98
Chapter 98: The Thirty-Sixth Day
Since Cheng Liu was back early, Ji Chaozhou decided to cook dinner.
There were still ingredients left from their shopping trip the previous day, so Cheng Liu retrieved them from Villa Number Six. She washed the vegetables, then handed them to Ji Chaozhou to chop.
Cheng Liu, having finished washing the lettuce, moved on to a box of greens, carefully rinsing each leaf under running water.
The rhythmic sound of Ji Chaozhou chopping the lettuce filled the kitchen.
The sound suddenly stopped. Cheng Liu instinctively looked up, then, seeing something was wrong, “Your hand!”
She immediately dropped the greens, wiping her wet hands on her clothes, rushing over to him, grabbing his left hand. There was a deep cut on his index finger, bleeding profusely.
“Let’s get this bandaged,” Cheng Liu said, pushing the cutting board and knife aside, pulling him to the sink to rinse the blood off his hand, then leading him out of the kitchen.
“I’m fine,” Ji Chaozhou said, seeing the worry on her face.
Cheng Liu didn't reply, retrieving the first-aid kit and starting to bandage his wound. The cut was deep, still bleeding.
She sprayed it with antiseptic, waiting for the bleeding to stop before applying a bandage.
“The vegetables aren’t chopped yet,” Ji Chaozhou said, watching her. “Should we order takeout?”
Cheng Liu, having carefully applied the bandage, looked up: “How did you cut yourself?”
“I was…distracted,” Ji Chaozhou said, looking away.
He sat there, calm and composed, his shirt collar slightly unbuttoned, an air of elegant nonchalance about him, making it hard to doubt his words.
“I’ll order takeout,” Cheng Liu said, putting away the first-aid kit.
Ji Chaozhou, looking up as she stood, instinctively reached for her hand: “What’s wrong?”
For a moment, all emotion had drained from her face.
He had always seen her smiling, or focused on work. This Cheng Liu, her face blank, no warmth in her eyes, was unfamiliar.
She hadn't even asked about his injury.
“Don’t move your hand. I just bandaged it,” Cheng Liu said, gently pulling his hand away, her voice calm, not the concern he had expected.
Ji Chaozhou, looking at his bandaged hand, felt a sudden unease.
Cheng Liu, having finished ordering takeout, held up her phone: “We still need to eat.”
“Okay,” Ji Chaozhou said, shifting slightly on the sofa, wanting her to sit beside him.
Normally, she would have happily snuggled up next to him, but she seemed oblivious to his invitation, picking up a fruit knife from the coffee table.
Then, with a blank expression, she cut her own index finger.
“Cheng Liu!” Ji Chaozhou exclaimed, jumping up, grabbing the knife and tossing it aside, taking her hand, frantically retrieving the first-aid kit and bandaging her wound. “What are you doing?!” His hands were shaking, his face pale, a reaction he hadn’t shown even when he had injured himself.
“What you did, I do,” Cheng Liu said, looking into his eyes, her voice calm.
“Cheng Liu,” Ji Chaozhou said, his brow furrowed, clearly displeased with her words.
The bandage was only halfway on. Cheng Liu, pulling her hand away, finished applying it herself, then leaned closer to him, her voice low, “Chaozhou, this is the second time.”
Ji Chaozhou felt like he had been doused with ice water. They stood there, anyone watching from afar would have mistaken them for a loving couple.
The first time had been in the front yard, when they were looking at the grapefruit saplings. He had reached out to touch the thorns, and she had subtly stopped him. She had known then that he had done it on purpose, but she hadn't said anything.
The second time was now. The cut on his finger had been too straight, as if he had deliberately placed his hand under the knife. Cheng Liu had been focusing all her attention on him lately. She couldn't have missed his subtle self-destructive tendencies. She just hadn't expected him to continue doing this, especially after…they had been intimate.
“…I’m sorry,” Ji Chaozhou whispered, turning away, his eyes filled with self-loathing. He couldn’t control himself. He hadn’t wanted to hear her confession before, afraid her feelings were fleeting, temporary. But now, after their intimacy, he craved her affection, her reassurance, her attention.
“You can hurt yourself, and I can’t stop you. But there’s something you need to know,” Cheng Liu said, looking at him intently, her voice firm, “I care about you too much. Wherever you hurt yourself, I’ll hurt myself too.”
Ji Chaozhou looked at her, his eyes widening, his grip tightening on her arm, tears welling up, his voice filled with despair. “Don’t…I…I won’t do it again.”
Cheng Liu pulled him into a hug, her face buried in his shoulder, her eyes cold, as if the person who had just placed an invisible shackle on him wasn't her.
She had never lost a psychological battle.
Sometimes, even with someone you loved, you had to resort to certain tactics.
Cheng Liu, tilting her head, kissed his ear, then his neck, a gentle, comforting gesture that seemed to soothe him.
She didn’t need to ask for his reassurance.
She could read his emotions, his thoughts, his actions, and she knew he had fallen deeper than she had.
He had struggled, but in the end, he had succumbed, more hopelessly entangled than she was.
Cheng Liu didn’t question her methods. She only cared about being together.
“My hand hurts,” she said, pulling away slightly, holding up her bandaged finger, a pitiful expression on her face, then, looking up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. The coldness from earlier had vanished completely.
Ji Chaozhou, filled with guilt, took her hand, apologizing softly.
“I’m hungry. The takeout isn't here yet,” Cheng Liu said, checking her phone. It would be another half hour. She looked up at him, smiling. “I’ll just…collect some interest.”
This kiss was more forceful than the previous ones. She bit his lip, drawing blood, the metallic taste mingling with the sweetness of the dessert. He didn’t flinch, even indulging her, a silent apology.
“Tell me what you want,” Cheng Liu whispered against his lips. “Whatever I have, I’ll give you.”
Ji Chaozhou, his eyes closed, his eyelashes fluttering, didn't stop her, his hand tightening around her waist.
…
Cheng Liu usually woke up early, but today she didn't. She lay there, watching the sleeping Ji Chaozhou, his face turned towards her, his left arm resting on his chest, covered in scars.
She gently traced the scars with her fingertip, remembering last night.
Her actions in the living room had almost broken him.
He would give her anything she wanted.
“Why do you hurt yourself?” she had asked. “Do you think I don’t care?”
He had been close to the edge then, lost in the moment, his forehead damp with sweat, his eyes hazy, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Sweat trickled down his beautiful face, landing on her neck, then seeping into the dark gray sheets.
“…I want you…to always look at me,” he had managed to say, his voice strained.
And after that, everything had seemed…inevitable.
Ji Chaozhou had stripped away his defenses, revealing everything to her.
…
Cheng Liu didn’t wait for him to wake up. She had received a message from Ji Mushan, saying he was outside.
She got up, washed up, changed her clothes, and went downstairs to open the door.
Ji Mushan stood outside. There was no car behind him. He must have walked from the main road.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Ji Mushan asked, clearly wanting a private conversation.
“Chaozhou’s inside,” Cheng Liu said, pointing behind her.
Ji Mushan’s expression flickered. He hadn’t expected their relationship to progress so quickly.
“I was just going to get some breakfast,” Cheng Liu said, stepping outside.
Ji Mushan, after a moment’s hesitation, followed her.
“What do you want, CEO Ji?” Cheng Liu asked, her hands in her pockets.
“You called me ‘Dad’ quite easily before,” Ji Mushan said, a hint of resentment in his voice. He suddenly found her annoying. It was a strange feeling. She was supposed to be his future daughter-in-law.
“That was…presumptuous of me,” Cheng Liu said, unfazed.
Ji Mushan didn't pursue it, walking beside her in silence, then, after a while, “Chaozhou is a lot like his mother.”
“Even so, he’s still his own person,” Cheng Liu said casually.
Ji Mushan paused, then smiled wryly: “You’re right.”
“Are you here to talk about the past, CEO Ji?” Cheng Liu asked, taking the breakfast bag from the vendor. “I’m not interested in your generation’s affairs. Unless…Chaozhou wants me to hear it.”
“I’m telling you this so you’ll be prepared,” Ji Mushan said, his expression serious. “I don’t want you to make promises to Chaozhou, then casually discard him.”
Cheng Liu stopped, then, after a moment, sat down on a bench by the side of the road: “Tell me.”
Ji Mushan sat down beside her: “Chaozhou’s mother’s name was Yun Ran. We…loved each other. At least, for the first few years.”
Every relationship started with a honeymoon period. Ji Mushan had never thought their love would fade. He had simply been busy with work, with the company.
He hadn't realized how much Yun Ran minded anything that took his attention away from her. A rift had formed between them, invisible, yet growing. He had thought he could fix it, given time.
But Yun Ran had taken drastic measures, even making sure Chaozhou witnessed the final act.
Cheng Liu looked down at the breakfast bag, touching it. It was still warm, his favorite temperature.
She turned to Ji Mushan: “Are you sure you were just…busy?”
“What?” Ji Mushan asked, confused.
Cheng Liu, looking at the passing cars, her voice calm, “I think you were afraid. Afraid of her possessiveness. So you used work as an excuse.”
Ji Mushan fell silent: “…”
“Chaozhou should be awake,” Cheng Liu said, standing up. She walked away, then stopped, turning back to him. “I’m not like you.”
She liked his possessiveness.
—Because she felt the same way.
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