Chapter Fifty-Five

Cheng Yunting pushed open Leng Zheng's door and stepped inside, closing it behind him.

"Cheng Yunting, what are you doing here?" Leng Zheng heard the sound and looked up at him. Her eyes were rimmed red, stained with the traces of tears—a clear sign she'd been crying.

"I... I wanted to see how you were," Cheng Yunting faltered, hesitant to come closer.

Leng Zheng had changed so much. Her long hair was now cropped short. She used to go without glasses, but now she wore them all the time, giving her an air of scholarly decadence—seductive, in a way.

"Damn it! You bastard!" Leng Zheng suddenly burst out, hurling a pillow at Cheng Yunting. Tears spilled from her eyes once more.

"Xiao Zheng, you can hit me, curse at me—whatever you want. If you want to beat me to death, that's fine," Cheng Yunting knelt beside her, gently wiping her tears. "But please, don't cry anymore, alright? It hurts to see you like this."

His words only made her sob harder. "You rotten Cheng Yunting! Why did you lie to me back then?! You..."

She kept cursing, her voice growing hoarse before she finally fell silent.

Cheng Yunting listened quietly. When Leng Zheng stopped, he lifted her onto the bed, tucked the covers around her. "Xiao Zheng, you’re still not well. Be good, just lie down for a while."

She was too exhausted to speak, nodded, and instinctively wrapped her arms around Cheng Yunting’s waist, curling into his embrace.

Cheng Yunting lay down beside her, holding her close, soothing her trembling body.

"Back then, Du Ruoyan showed me a contract, asking me to pretend to be her boyfriend. If I refused, she threatened to hurt you," Cheng Yunting murmured softly. "So I reluctantly agreed. I guessed what she might do, but I didn’t know how to stop it.

That’s why you saw what happened later. I really did pursue her, because her appearance resembled yours so much, but her personality was nothing like yours.

I wasn’t making you her substitute—I was making her yours.

I stopped pursuing her because she truly wasn’t like you. In my heart, you are one of a kind, so I kept searching for you."

When he finished, he realized his chest was wet with tears. Leng Zheng’s body trembled softly.

"Xiao Zheng, please, don’t cry anymore?" Cheng Yunting gently lifted her face, coaxing her patiently. "Good girl, don’t cry."

"Yunting..." Leng Zheng raised herself and kissed him, muffling her sobs.

Cheng Yunting froze for a moment, then returned her kiss with growing intensity. The room grew thick with desire.

It was at least ten minutes before they finally parted. Leng Zheng breathed heavily, wrapping her arms around Cheng Yunting’s neck.

"So, does this mean we’ve made up?" Cheng Yunting teased, whispering slyly in her ear.

"Mm, we’ve made up," Leng Zheng nodded.

They didn’t speak again. Cheng Yunting held her close, his breath warm against her ear.

Her ears flushed scarlet, her gaze gradually clouded.

She pushed him away. "We’ve made up, but we should start as friends first."

"Alright," Cheng Yunting nodded, gazing at her with indulgence. "You rest now. I’ll stay here with you."

"Mm..."