Chapter 105
Xu Jinnan’s hands were tied tightly, the ropes digging into her wrists with every movement. “Shu Shu, stop playing around. Untie me,” she pleaded, her voice hoarse.
Shen Shu, having consumed several bottles of wine, was at her peak of intoxication, Xu Jinnan’s voice a distant murmur, a familiar sound from countless dreams, both comforting and infuriating, a bittersweet ache in her heart.
She wasn’t fully aware of her actions, her movements driven by a primal anger, a need to punish, to retaliate.
“I told you not to move,” she said, her voice slightly slurred, the riding crop in her hand lightly brushing against Xu Jinnan’s cheek, the touch feather-light, not painful, but the trailing edge sent a shiver down Xu Jinnan’s spine, her skin tingling.
Shen Shu’s cheeks flushed, her body swaying slightly, her grip on the riding crop loosening as she leaned against Xu Jinnan, her weight a pleasant pressure.
Xu Jinnan’s heart pounded, the contact sending a wave of warmth through her.
Shen Shu’s face was buried in Xu Jinnan’s neck, her warm breath on her skin. She frowned slightly, noticing the damp bandage. “Your wound is wet,” she murmured. Xu Jinnan had splashed water on her face at the beach earlier, the dampness seeping through the bandage.
“Shu Shu, be a good girl and untie me,” Xu Jinnan pleaded, her body aching with a growing need. She tried to reach the ribbon tied to the bedpost, but her hands, bound tightly, were useless.
Shen Shu ignored her, her warm breath now on Xu Jinnan’s neck, near her scent gland, the sensation like a hot, damp sponge, making her skin tingle.
Shen Shu sat up slightly and reached for the bandage, carefully peeling it off, her movements surprisingly precise despite her intoxication.
But her patience was a torment for Xu Jinnan, the gentle touch against her inflamed scent gland sending shivers down her spine, her pulse quickening.
Then, Shen Shu’s lips brushed against the wound, her tongue gently lapping at the blood, like a kitten drinking milk.
Xu Jinnan clenched her jaw, her body tensing, but her struggles were futile.
Shen Shu, seemingly dissatisfied with the taste, frowned slightly. “It’s not good, Xu Jinnan. Your blood isn’t sweet at all,” she murmured, then her gaze shifted to the sensitive skin near the wound, her lips finding a new target.
A wave of heat washed over Xu Jinnan, her body trembling. “Shu Shu! Untie me…” she pleaded, her voice strained, but Shen Shu seemed to ignore her, her lips still pressed against Xu Jinnan’s skin.
“Then beg me,” she whispered.
Xu Jinnan’s body burned, her mind reeling, her skin damp with sweat, her voice trembling.
“Please,” she whispered. “Jiejie, please untie me.”
Shen Shu lifted her head, her chin tilted up slightly. “No,” she said, her voice a low murmur, her gaze meeting Xu Jinnan’s, a hint of playful dominance in her eyes, then, as her eyelashes fluttered and her lips curved into a soft smile, Xu Jinnan’s heart skipped a beat.
This side of Shen Shu, vulnerable yet alluring, was a sight only she could witness.
Shen Shu leaned in again, her lips finding Xu Jinnan’s neck, her teeth gently grazing the sensitive skin, and Xu Jinnan felt a strange tingling sensation, followed by the sweet, intoxicating scent of Shen Shu’s pheromones.
It was a new, unfamiliar feeling, her mind clouding, her body relaxing, as if she were enveloped in a warm, fragrant mist.
In the ABO world, there were two types of marking between Alphas and Omegas.
Alphas could temporarily mark an Omega, a common practice during ruts and heats, a way to alleviate the symptoms and establish a temporary bond.
Or they could permanently mark an Omega, a more significant act with long-term consequences, creating a deep, almost irreversible bond, the Omega becoming dependent on the Alpha’s pheromones, even risking pregnancy if precautions weren’t taken.
Of course, the stronger the Alpha’s and Omega’s genes, the less likely pregnancy was, one of the reasons why high-ranking Alphas and Omegas were so rare.
An Omega marking an Alpha, however, was less complicated.
It was called a reverse marking, but its effects were still on the Omega, creating a temporary sense of possessiveness, a heightened desire for the Alpha whose pheromones they had absorbed.
Shen Shu’s reverse marking lasted for a few minutes, and during that time, Xu Jinnan felt the tingling in her scent gland subside slightly, a momentary reprieve, then a sudden surge of pheromones, her body on the verge of losing control.
Shen Shu pulled away from her neck, her head resting on Xu Jinnan’s shoulder, her breathing uneven, then she exhaled slowly, as if she had been holding her breath.
“Does it hurt?” she asked, glancing at the bandage on Xu Jinnan’s wrist, her hand gently touching Xu Jinnan’s chest. “You’re hurting me…” she murmured, her words slightly slurred.
Shen Shu sat up, then, as she released Xu Jinnan’s hand, her body swayed, and she collapsed against Xu Jinnan, her face resting on her arm.
Xu Jinnan’s mind was clouded, her body responding to Shen Shu’s touch, her own desire a growing heat.
Xu Jinnan woke up feeling sore, her body aching, her limbs heavy, as if she had been run over by a truck.
She opened her eyes, the sunlight filtering through the gap in the curtains, and squinted, her eyes dry and gritty. She glanced at the empty space beside her.
Shen Shu was gone.
She sat up, her heart pounding, and looked around the room, but there was no sign of her.
She got out of bed, her bare feet cold against the marble floor. “Shu Shu?” she called out, her voice hoarse.
The bathroom and the walk-in closet were also empty.
For a moment, she wondered if it had all been a dream, then the lingering soreness in her body, the marks on her wrist, the rumpled sheets, the empty wine bottles scattered on the floor… It had all been real.
She grabbed a robe, her fingers brushing against the bandage on her neck; Shen Shu had changed it for her.
Her heart ached, and she hurried out of the room.
She found the housekeeper on the stairs.
“Miss Shen left early this morning,” she said.
Just then, Xu Jinnan heard the clinking of glasses from downstairs.
“She was in a hurry, so I had someone drive her to the studio,” Xu Yincheng’s voice said.
Xu Jinnan went downstairs, her gaze finding Xu Yincheng in the living room.
“She went… to the studio? Is she alright?” she asked, surprised. She had been in rut last night, her mind clouded, her memories fragmented, and after the fitting room incident, and Shen Shu’s subsequent injury, she had assumed Xu Yincheng was just trying to reassure her.
And Shen Shu had been drunk last night, stumbling and falling, exposed to the cold night air for hours.
And then there was Xu Jinnan’s own rut…
Perhaps Shen Shu wasn’t feeling well, and Xu Yincheng was simply trying to protect her from further distress.
Her mind raced, her worry growing.
Xu Yincheng, seeing her anxious expression, chuckled. “Do you think I would lose track of your wife?”
Xu Jinnan paused. “No, it’s just… I’ll go change,” she mumbled, not wanting to explain, her priority to confirm Shen Shu’s well-being. As she turned to go upstairs, Xu Yincheng called out, “It’s cold outside. Dress warmly.”
She paused. “I will,” she replied, then continued upstairs.
Xu Yincheng, hearing the familiar warmth in her voice, smiled faintly.
She was finally starting to see him as family.
Back in her room, Xu Jinnan immediately tried calling Shen Shu, then, realizing the call wouldn’t go through, tried sending a WeChat message, only to discover she had been blocked.
Her face paled, her heart sinking, a heavy, oppressive feeling in her chest.
Was that why she hadn’t been able to reach her by phone?
Shen Shu was still angry, and she had every right to be.
Xu Jinnan clung to that thought, trying to rationalize it, to accept it, to quell the rising panic, the fear of losing Shen Shu again.
She called Tong Jia.
Tong Jia answered quickly, her tone curt. “Shu Shu is filming.”
“Are you sure she’s okay? Let me see her,” Xu Jinnan said, her voice tight with anxiety.
“I can’t just… video chat with her on set,” Tong Jia replied, then, hearing the desperation in Xu Jinnan’s voice, added, “If you were so worried, you should have been more careful last night… and that divorce stunt? Shu Shu can barely face the camera today!”
“She’s not on set? Where is she?” Xu Jinnan asked, her voice rising in panic.
“…She is. Let me finish. She’s on set, but she’s not in a good state. We talked to the director, and he agreed to reschedule her scenes for later. She’s filming some… less demanding scenes for now, the ones where she doesn’t have any close-ups.”
“Send me the address,” Xu Jinnan said.
“Are you coming here? Don’t. There are reporters everywhere. And the news about your divorce is still trending,” Tong Jia said.
Xu Jinnan paused.
“What time is she done?” she asked after a moment.
“Around 5 p.m.”
“Send me the address. I’ll be there. I’ll handle the reporters,” Xu Jinnan said firmly. “Tong Jia, are you sure she’s okay?”
Just then, she heard a familiar voice in the background.
“Jia Jia… it’s fine. Take the call,” Shen Shu said, her voice slightly hoarse, but calm, her usual aloofness a thin veil over her emotions.
Xu Jinnan’s heart ached, but she was also slightly relieved.
Is she really okay? But I had a rut last night…
Tong Jia hung up and looked at Shen Shu, who was staring at her phone, her expression unreadable. “Xu Jinnan,” she finally said.
Tong Jia nodded. “Yeah, she said she’ll be here at 5 p.m.”
Shen Shu looked down. “Tell her not to come,” she said softly.
“Shu Shu, I understand why she did it. It might seem foolish, but think about it…” Tong Jia began. If she were in Xu Jinnan’s position, knowing the trouble brewing within the Xu family, she wouldn’t risk jeopardizing Shen Shu’s career for their relationship.
“She was wrong, of course, for not understanding your feelings, but that’s why it would be such a shame if you two really broke up,” she continued. Wasn’t it tragic to lose someone you loved because you loved them too much?
But Tong Jia didn’t understand; that wasn’t the reason Shen Shu was upset.
Shen Shu’s fingers tightened around her water glass, the coolness of the glass a stark contrast to the burning heat of her skin, the phantom sensation of Xu Jinnan’s touch still lingering.
“Tell her not to come,” she repeated.
Tong Jia sighed. “Okay, I’ll tell her.”
Xu Jinnan received Tong Jia’s message just as she was about to leave the office.
CEO Xu, Shu Shu has something to do later. Don’t come.
Tong Jia had just told her Shen Shu would be done at 5 p.m. She knew Shen Shu had asked her to send the message.
Xu Jinnan sighed, a heavy feeling in her chest, and went downstairs, where Xu Yincheng, glancing at the faint marks on her neck, handed her the car keys.
She took the keys and was about to leave when she paused, turning back to look at Xu Yincheng, who was still sitting on the sofa, dressed casually in a long-sleeved T-shirt and loose-fitting pants, his long legs crossed.
Sensing her gaze, he looked up.
“What is it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“How long are you staying?”
He chuckled. “Not sure yet. Why? Going to miss your big brother?”
“If you’re not in a hurry to leave, let’s have dinner together sometime,” she said. He had saved her, after all.
Xu Yincheng’s eyes widened slightly, then he smiled. “I’d like that.”
As she turned to leave, he added, “Hopefully, you’ll bring your wife with you.”
Xu Jinnan didn’t reply.
If only it were that easy. She wanted to reconcile with Shen Shu, but based on her behavior last night, her anger was still simmering.
This time, it wouldn’t be easy.
As she left, Xu Yincheng took out his phone and checked Weibo.
The news about the Xu family was still trending, the comments overwhelmingly negative, even the walls of the Xu family villa vandalized with graffiti.
And the news of her divorce from Shen Shu was a major headline in the entertainment section.
A message from a colleague popped up on his screen.
[Xu-ge, say something! Your fans are starving!]
[You can be single, but my CP can’t be broken!]
Xu Yincheng: [?]
[Just try to get them back together! Is Xu-ge… impotent?]
Xu Yincheng: [?]
[I’m changing my Weibo username to “MyCPIsBroken.” And I’m changing my name to “CPisDead, XuGeIsImpotent.”]
Xu Yincheng: [?]
