The bottle and more alcohol he had just consumed were nothing, not nearly enough to make him drunk. But hearing her words and thinking of the glaring name on the caller ID, Zhou Tingzhao’s head was indeed spinning now.

Perhaps that emotion rampaging in his chest was jealousy, was unwillingness, was “I love you, so why can’t you love me the same way?”

One hallmark of adulthood is the ability to coexist with emotions, yet in this moment of assault, Zhou Tingzhao found himself powerless, left with only those surging feelings.

His mind hazy and tumultuous, this thought finally remained.

“Why can’t you love me a little? Hmm?”

His head buried beside Sang Ru’s face, he nuzzled gently twice, murmuring these words so softly it sounded like he was talking to himself. But right by her ear, Sang Ru heard, and she suddenly froze. The person who could act tough just moments ago now seemed to be showing vulnerability.

His face was very hot. Sang Ru controlled her surging emotions and asked: “Zhou Tingzhao, are you drunk?”

“I’m not drunk.”

His voice was muffled, and Sang Ru’s heart suddenly softened.

She lived by the principle that life’s pleasures should be enjoyed to the fullest, and so she was accustomed to doing whatever she pleased. This included being friends with benefits with Zhou Tingzhao back then, as well as teasing him endlessly after returning to high school. As long as it felt good in the moment, she didn’t care about conventional morality or age issues.

But he was different from her in some ways. Because of his age, he truly adhered to that final boundary. Each time, she was the one who initiated the teasing, and in the end, she was also the one who found it hardest to endure. It all stemmed from her spontaneity and Zhou Tingzhao’s instinctive self-restraint.

She was still more than a year away from being an adult. If they truly followed his thinking, she would have to hold back at least until then—the thought was unbearable.

Wild beasts always reveal their ferocity when they sense danger. Why not take this opportunity to make him abandon those unnecessary restraints binding them both and confront his true feelings?

The plan proceeded as usual. She had arranged beforehand for Luo He to call, thoughtfully changing the contact name to the cloying “Brother Luo He,” which by coincidence he had seen. Zhou Tingzhao was indeed provoked; their intense exchange just now was enough to explain everything, yet at this moment, he once again revealed his softness.

Sang Ru’s heart melted, and she raised her hand to stroke his head: “I love you.”

The breathing at her ear suddenly halted, then changed to heavier breaths. In the darkness, she felt him raise his head, his gaze penetrating the gloom to lock onto her: “What did you say?”

Sang Ru raised her hands to embrace his neck, pronouncing each word clearly: “I do love you.”

The air remained silent for a long while. Sang Ru heard a hoarse voice: “Liar.”

Liars always say pleasant things but do hurtful actions.

Zhou Tingzhao kissed her again, preventing her from saying anything else that might move his heart. The person in his arms responded passionately. Zhou Tingzhao kissed her as he removed the barriers covering her lower body.

She only wanted this—liars say they love.

Yet he had to admit that his nerves began to tremble excitedly because of those words.

His hardened organ pressed against her thighs, becoming increasingly engorged as it touched her soft flesh. Zhou Tingzhao thrust his hips against her center, barely controlling his strength, seeking connection with her through the most primitive collisions, one after another.

As the kiss ended, he released her and coaxed in a low voice: “Say it again.”

Sang Ru’s face was also hot. Enduring her gasps, she said: “I won’t say it anymore.”

The head of his member ground heavily over her clitoris: “Say it.”

“Mmm… stop pressing…” Moans emerged from her throat, and Sang Ru surrendered: “I love you.”

Zhou Tingzhao continued to thrust along the slit of her entrance without going further. He captured her lower lip and bit it gently: “Say you only love me.”

Sang Ru sighed helplessly and complied: “I only love you.”

Those few words, like an incantation, crashed down on him, making him dizzy.

“Liar.”

He wanted her to say it, yet he was the one who didn’t believe it. Sang Ru grew irritated by this torment and casually said the opposite: “Yes, I’m lying to you.”

Zhou Tingzhao paused, then began to chastise her even more fiercely. After a lengthy bout of grinding, she still hadn’t received his direct entry, but instead heard an irrelevant statement.

“I came so far to catch up with you. Don’t lie to me.”

Sang Ru was confused: “From the private room? Is that far?”

Zhou Tingzhao seemed not to hear her. He suddenly raised his hand to cover her mouth and leaned down to her ear: “Do you have secrets?”

“I do,” the malevolent genetic particles began to stir. Zhou Tingzhao’s voice, tainted by alcohol, grew increasingly deep. Everything he said sounded like a seduction of the heart. He said, “Even our secrets are the same…”

“So don’t lie to me.”

His words became increasingly incomprehensible. Sang Ru’s confused voice emerged from beneath his palm.

The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. The person with the God’s-eye view holds the initiative first. Though he had intended to keep it from her and tease her, in the end, it was he who was controlled.

Zhou Tingzhao felt he might truly be drunk. He stopped all movement, and the empty private room was suddenly filled only with their interwoven breaths.

He said, “Sarah, you still owe me a project proposal.”

Bonus chapter.