Chapter 20: Don’t Scream

Difícil escapar das cores da primavera Estrela do Sul 1978 words 2026-08-04 07:30:17

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Fang Zhixu arrived at the old residence only after the family banquet had officially begun. Beneath his black long coat, he wore a suit of the same dark hue, his tie neatly fastened and a bow tie snugly settled just below his sharp Adam’s apple. His hair was meticulously groomed, his features deep and refined, exuding an air of cultured detachment.

His gaze swept the room, pausing imperceptibly for two seconds when it landed on Zhao Baitong in the corner, before turning toward the person walking directly toward him.

Fang Zhixu handed the gift box in his hands to Meng Tang. “These are gifts I bought in Yun City—one for you, one for your mother.”

Publicly displaying their affection so effortlessly, the handsome man and beautiful woman captured everyone’s attention, garnering praise for their seemingly perfect pair.

Meng Tang stood on tiptoe, nearly kissing Fang Zhixu’s cheek, only to be gently stopped by him.

When Zhao Baitong looked up, she caught the intertwined figures and felt a sharp sting in her heart. Hastily, she averted her gaze, unwilling to look at them.

The meal dragged on unusually long. After all, Zhao Baitong was not the main focus—at best, she was merely a supporting figure, a token used by the Fang family to showcase their impartial charity. She dared not leave first and instead excused herself to the upstairs bathroom.

Upon exiting the restroom, she was suddenly grabbed by the waist before she could react. Startled, she was about to scream when someone covered her mouth and dragged her into a dark room.

“Don’t scream.” The man released her.

At the same time she recognized the voice, she also made out the face.

“What’s making you uncomfortable?” The night cast shadows over the pale furniture; outside the window, the light and shadow cut sharply along his handsome profile. He lowered his gaze upon Zhao Baitong. Her small face, viewed from above, made every lift of her eyes look adorably vulnerable.

He had been publicly showing affection to Meng Tang just moments ago—when had he noticed her discomfort?

Zhao Baitong’s heart felt as if it were being slowly ground down. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

“You’re soft all over except your mouth,” he said bluntly, smiling lightly. “Miss me?”

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His earlier actions had already sent her heart racing, and hearing him say that only made her more flustered, wishing she could cover his mouth. Faced with a question she didn’t know how to answer, she chose silence.

Anticipating her silence, his rough fingertip traced her soft lips slowly, his gaze growing increasingly bare and intense, the scent of cold wood and musk gradually closing in.

Under his touch, Zhao Baitong involuntarily closed her eyes.

“Zhixu, are you in there?” Madam Fang’s voice came from behind the door. Startled, Zhao Baitong suddenly opened her eyes and instinctively pushed him away.

Fang Zhixu remained unmoved, lightly pressing a kiss to her lips before adjusting his perfectly tied bow tie. The sound of a metal lighter sparked as he calmly spoke to the person outside, “Yes, smoking a cigarette.”

“Open the door. I need to talk to you.”

Hearing Madam Fang about to enter, Zhao Baitong felt panic and helplessness. She grabbed his crisp shirt sleeve, her eyes wide and pleading, silently begging him to stop.

His thin lips curved half a smile as he leaned close to her ear, teasing, “What’s there to be afraid of?”

Alone in a room with a man, outside stood his mother and fiancée, among the high society’s elite guests. Her words could not possibly explain the situation. Historically, a man’s mistakes might be forgiven as a prodigal son’s return—what about a woman?

The more Zhao Baitong pushed him away, the more he held firm. The next moment, he grasped her slender waist and kissed her.

It was less a kiss and more a bite—fierce and wild, overwhelming her like a tidal wave.

Zhao Baitong nearly suffocated, her mouth filled with the scent of tobacco and Pu’er tea. She lowered her voice, forcing out a few words through clenched teeth: “Don’t go crazy…”

“Zhixu? I’m coming in.” Madam Fang’s hand was on the doorknob, about to unlock it.

Fang Zhixu released her, straightened his shirt, and opened the door first. “Mother.”

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He was as indifferent as ever.

Zhao Baitong curled up in the shadows behind the door, watching the orange glow of the hallway light fall on his restrained yet composed face. His dark eyes were calm, showing no ripple of emotion.

“What are you doing? You lock the door just to smoke? You’re not hiding anything.” Madam Fang said as she tried to enter, but Fang Zhixu blocked her way. “It’s smoky inside, you’ll choke. If you have something to say, say it outside.”

Madam Fang didn’t press further; she had come with urgent news. “Your father is coming back tonight. Prepare yourself. Don’t leave tonight.”

Fang Zhixu put the cigarette on the side away from Madam Fang, took a drag, then stubbed it out. “Why the sudden return?”

Madam Fang first asked, “Did you see your father in Yun City this time?”

He answered, “No.”

The response was as Madam Fang expected—the father and son were estranged. For years, she felt like a hot iron pressed between them, the two men as cold as ice. Even as the iron, she could not melt the distance, only grow more anxious caught in the middle.

“Now rumors are spreading in Yun City, saying your father’s current position is solely due to our family’s business support there. Zhang’s enterprises contribute over a hundred million in taxes annually. Your father has managed several leading companies in Yun City for thirty years, but beyond his salary, he’s never taken a penny. Now, with a major reshuffle in the provincial government, new colleagues envy and resent him, secretly plotting to sully his name.”

“Your father would never embezzle or form factions. Facing retirement in a few years, he got furious at the thought of ruining his reputation late in life. Citing health issues, he’s returning to Nancheng to recuperate for a few days.”

“Your father left instructions: the charity work must continue. Otherwise, why would I hold lavish family banquets every few years, bringing in impoverished students? It’s all to maintain your father’s image and the Zhang family’s reputation as benevolent and approachable.”

Fang Zhixu listened without much expression, as if hearing but not hearing. Finally, he said coolly, “I understand.”