Are you taking advantage of the fact that I can’t bear to hurt you, becoming completely lawless?

Looking back over Zhou Shiyu’s past twenty-nine years of life, he had never experienced a moment of being completely controlled by another person.

Not when he was locked in the basement as a child, not when diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and certainly never in the business world.

Now he was rendered speechless by a single sentence from Sheng Sui.

In the business world, he had seen all kinds of negotiation tactics—circuitous and tactful, threatening and enticing, incomprehensible nonsense were not uncommon.

Rarely had he encountered someone like Sheng Sui, who directly stated her needs and laid out her cards, clearly telling you that as long as you agreed to what she needed, she would accept any exchange conditions.

Night insects chirped softly, the woman’s eyes were pure, suddenly reminding Zhou Shiyu of a popular internet phrase.

—Sincerity is always the ultimate weapon.

Sheng Sui always mistakenly thought herself foolish, when in reality she placed her sincere heart right in front of you, just like the peace charm she had personally delivered thirteen years ago—no one could remain unmoved.

Provocation stirred his blood, desire took the upper hand. Zhou Shiyu knew it was a trap, yet still willingly fell into it with sweet satisfaction.

The blanket from the back seat was tossed aside. The enclosed space had privacy glass front and back. Sheng Sui straddled Zhou Shiyu’s thighs, yet the man still hadn’t touched the corner of her clothes.

Zhou Shiyu leaned back against the leather seat, merely having Sheng Sui grip him, his burning large palm covering her slender white hand. When she moved restlessly, he circled her back into confinement.

Her palm was burning hot. Sheng Sui felt that rather than watching and waiting, she’d prefer to participate personally—anything was better than this torment of anxiety and impatience.

After hesitating for a moment, she still asked softly: “Is this enough?”

“……”

The tenderness vanished without a trace. The car fell silent for a few seconds. Zhou Shiyu’s dark, bright pupils flickered constantly, dangerously narrowed:

“It only takes one minute for others to come from the campsite.”

The man bit down on Sheng Sui’s chin, his low voice rising: “Aren’t you afraid at all?”

His bone-deep desire for control awakened. Zhou Shiyu lifted his other hand after speaking, gripping Sheng Sui’s slender waist, effortlessly pulling her into his embrace, not allowing her to run around.

“There are only the six of us nearby. Xu Zhuo and Su Yingying won’t come out again. Qiu Si drank too much and fell asleep, Xiao Ming also needs to rest. Who else would come over?”

Sheng Sui was held tightly by the man, her waist itching. Unwilling to let the topic be diverted again, she gripped Zhou Shiyu and moved, not forgetting her original intention even as deep, muffled groans sounded:

“You were the one who chose this method. This counts as one of the three times too.”

Zhou Shiyu was too calculating; she had to be constantly on guard, or she’d be led away by the man’s twisted logic.

Breaths mingled in the silence. After Zhou Shiyu’s extensive instruction after marriage, Sheng Sui was no longer as clumsy as the first time. Even in darkness, she could find that tip, recalling the man’s past patient teachings, her thumb touching the opening, circling with her fingertip sometimes urgently, sometimes slowly.

Silently, she only heard the breathing beside her ear suddenly stop, the large hand on her waist gripping hard with five fingers, pressing into her skin, immediately causing waves of stinging pain.

Even in the darkness, she could see the man’s temple veins bulging. Sheng Sui hesitated for a moment, stopping her hand movements at the crucial moment to raise a question: “I have a question.”

In the sound of suppressed deep breathing, she felt the scorching heat in her palm jump violently, quickly saying: “If you can’t do it three times in one night, the promise to take medicine together should still count, right?”

“……”

His eyelid twitching incessantly, Zhou Shiyu was repeatedly provoked by his lover, momentarily forgetting the discomfort of exposing his condition.

Not knowing whether to be angry or amused, his hand moved up, his slender five fingers gripping the back of Sheng Sui’s neck, making her look down at him, his voice hoarse:

“Suisui, are you taking advantage of the fact that I can’t bear to hurt you, becoming completely lawless?”

With her thoughts exposed, Sheng Sui’s stubborn temper also flared. Being grabbed by the neck, she pushed against the man’s shoulders, directly pressing him down onto the back seat.

Her black hair scattered, their size difference was completely revealed. Sheng Sui heard her slightly guilty rebuttal rise:

“You’re clearly the one always teasing me, so I have to be careful—”

Before she could finish, Zhou Shiyu, unwilling to be beneath, struck back. His palm exerted force as his arm lifted. In just a moment, he turned the tables. Before Sheng Sui could react, he easily pressed her down onto the back seat.

Except for his right hand that always protected the back of Sheng Sui’s head, the man’s behavior was completely unreasonable.

Amid thunderous heartbeats, Sheng Sui looked up to see Zhou Shiyu voluntarily remove his glasses for the first time outside of bedtime. His sharp gaze was no longer obstructed, overwhelming pressure sweeping over her.

Under the desolate moonlight, the man’s dark eyes seemed tinged with hints of crimson in the car’s shadow, making her inexplicably think of vampires that couldn’t see light—dangerous yet more alluring.

Zhou Shiyu looked down at her from above, his low voice rich with texture: “Now you’re really not afraid of me.”

“Why should I be afraid of you,” the rapid heartbeat brought dizziness. Sheng Sui looked at Zhou Shiyu, who had completely changed from his gentle demeanor, still stubborn,

“You only fierce with words anyway. What’s so scary about that?”

“…….”

Having reached this point, no one cared about taking medicine anymore. The two had inexplicably entered a competitive arena, neither yielding to the other.

Zhou Shiyu was almost laughing from anger.

Beneath his refined and courteous exterior, the violent factors buried in his bloodline stirred restlessly. With one hand, he lightly hooked and pulled away the gauze band around Sheng Sui’s waist.

His other hand clasped both her wrists, placing them above her head, then used the off-white gauze to tie them together, trailing a long tail.

As his palm covered her eyes, Zhou Shiyu heard the soft sound escaping from Sheng Sui’s lips, like a cat’s meow:

“Zhou Shiyu……”

No longer cherishing and protecting her, Zhou Shiyu lowered his head, his teeth marking Sheng Sui’s slender neck. Feeling her shoulders tremble slightly, his body instinctively lightened its actions before his brain could react.

Only his mouth still demanded her submission: “Still say you’re not afraid?”

His palm was brushed by fluttering long lashes. Zhou Shiyu saw Sheng Sui fall silent for a few seconds, pressing her lips with the corners of her mouth turning down.

Her tone seemed somewhat aggrieved as she finally admitted: “……A little bit.”

“……”

Images of her eyes brimming with tears floated through his mind. Zhou Shiyu closed his eyes deeply. As he removed the gauze from her wrists, he turned his head to find the blanket tossed aside, saying in a low voice:

“If a madman really wants to bully you, remember to stay far away, otherwise you won’t even have a chance to cry.”

As he shook out the blanket to wrap her tightly, the man looked down, his gaze meeting Sheng Sui’s eyes that sparkled with laughter, her bright crystalline eyes full of stars—where was there even half a trace of fear?

When their eyes met, Zhou Shiyu suddenly realized that his lover before him wasn’t an obedient kitten at all, but clearly a white fox skilled in bewitchment.

Sheng Sui learned and grew at lightning speed, even fooling him completely.

Supporting her body with both hands, the woman mimicked his earlier actions, hooking back the gauze and pulling Zhou Shiyu’s hands over, expertly tying a bow knot as well.

Back and forth, give and take—this time it was Zhou Shiyu’s turn to look up at Sheng Sui, his deep dark eyes watching as she leaned over, hands resting on his shoulders.

Sheng Sui tilted her head, also returning the favor by biting down on his neck, softly saying:

“Zhou Shiyu, you’re not the only one who can deceive people.”

Though the trial just now was clumsy, it also made Sheng Sui understand one principle clearly: as long as she didn’t follow his train of thought and maintained her own opinions, getting Zhou Shiyu to compromise really wasn’t difficult.

The reason was simple enough.

Zhou Shiyu could never bear to let her suffer even the slightest grievance.

The second day after the holiday ended, Sheng Sui had no classes in the afternoon, so she took leave to visit Sheng Tian at the hospital.

It had been several days since Sheng Tian’s surgery. During this period, the caregiver had been sending daily messages to inform Sheng Sui about the man’s recovery progress.

At least for now, everything seemed normal except for insomnia and little sleep.

To reach the inpatient department, she had to pass through the outpatient hall. When passing the registration counter, Sheng Sui’s steps paused slightly at the sight of the long queue, looking up at the information board.

Red characters glowed harshly, clearly showing “Psychiatry Department.” There were still doctors available for consultation, just no specialist appointments.

Sheng Sui ultimately didn’t queue up for registration. She turned around and first went to the fourth floor of the hospital where the psychiatry department was located.

Different from other floors that were crowded and noisy, or perhaps it was Sheng Sui’s preconceived mindset, she could obviously sense the oppressive atmosphere just by approaching.

Contrary to her imagination, the psychiatry waiting area was mostly filled with students who appeared to be between 13-16 years old—middle schoolers—most brought by their parents.

As Sheng Sui passed the doctor’s office closest to the hallway, she heard parents’ voices coming from inside:

“We don’t lack food or clothing at home. It’s just going to school. How can such a young child get depression?”

“Doctor, tell us where we pressured him? We just asked him to study seriously. Don’t other families’ children all go through this?”

“How long after taking medicine will he get better? The child is about to take the physical education entrance exam. Depression isn’t like other illnesses—he can’t apply for exemption. Now he just wants to lie at home every day. These dozens of points will just be thrown away, and it looks like he won’t even be able to get into high school.”

“…..”

Urgent questioning voices rang out continuously, occasionally mixed with the doctor’s patient explanations, but you couldn’t hear the patient child say a single word.

Later, Sheng Sui almost fled from the psychiatric outpatient department.

Coming to the inpatient department, she looked at patients hospitalized for various physical ailments all along the way, suddenly realizing:

Mental illness wasn’t like traumatic bleeding, fractures, or spinal lesions like Sheng Tian’s—conditions with clear characteristics that could be described with objective facts.

Many patients had completely normal physical organs, just obstacles in cognition, thinking, emotions and other aspects. They looked exactly the same as ordinary people on the outside, but suffered terribly inside.

At the same time, because mental illness symptoms were difficult to describe, they were equally difficult for society to understand and accept. From what Sheng Sui had witnessed in just a few short minutes, most parents accompanying children for treatment viewed mental illness as shameful.

Sheng Sui thought this might also be why Zhou Shiyu had always resisted discussing his condition with her.

When she pushed open the door to enter the ward, Sheng Tian’s voice on the phone could be heard from inside:

“……Please trouble Lawyer Jia with the house property rights and will matters.”

Seeing Sheng Sui enter, the no-longer-young man first looked stunned, then piled on a fawning smile, his face full of wrinkles: “Sheng Sui’s here! Come sit, come sit.”

Sheng Sui looked at the man’s empty bedside table—obviously no one had visited before she came—and said calmly: “What are you looking for a lawyer for?”

“Nothing much, just that the old house back home is going to be demolished recently. I heard we can get some money,” seeing Sheng Sui take the initiative to talk, Sheng Tian carefully watched her expression, answering every question, “It’s just that your mother’s name is also on the property deed, so I need to ask the lawyer how to divide the money.”

Sheng Sui understood.

The house was bought with both parents’ combined efforts, so naturally both names were on the property certificate. Yu Xuemei had desperately wanted to leave Sheng Tian back then. As soon as the separation period was up, she immediately applied for divorce without even mentioning property division, leaving everything behind.

Because it was worth pitifully little, that house remained their only joint property and had been forgotten all these years.

Only now, facing high-value demolition compensation, did Sheng Tian remember where this money should go.

Sheng Sui looked coldly at the man, waiting to see how else he planned to pocket this money alone, when she heard Sheng Tian look at her tremblingly, nervously wringing his hands:

“I want to convince your mother to give all the demolition money to you.”

“……”

Seeing Sheng Sui’s completely indifferent expression, Sheng Tian knew his daughter had no trust left in him. Regardless of his wounds, he struggled to sit up from the hospital bed, speaking hurriedly: “Before going into surgery this time, I was thinking that the person I’ve wronged most in this life is you. I still shamelessly asked you to support me in old age—it’s right that you hate me.”

“So I thought, if I die, I’ll give you all the demolition money I can get,” Sheng Tian spoke with little confidence, his speech getting faster, “but your mother might not. Your mother left you behind without looking back—she’s even worse than me.”

“Especially since she’s raising someone else’s bastard outside. You might not get a single penny of her share, so I immediately went to find a lawyer to discuss……”

No matter how the man exhausted his words, Sheng Sui didn’t respond to any of it. Only after Sheng Tian completely shut up did she calmly ask back:

“I have work and can support myself. Why would I want your money?”

“Also, if the demolition compensation is substantial,” she paused, “quickly pay back the surgery and hospitalization fees to Zhou Shiyu—he covered all your debts.”

Sheng Tian was rendered speechless by her response.

Naturally, Sheng Sui had nothing to say to this selfish and self-serving cheap father. Coming to the hospital was just to confirm he was still alive and well.

Now seeing he could even scheme against others, there was nothing left to worry about.

So she got up to leave.

“Wait, wait!”

The next moment, her wrist was suddenly grabbed. Sheng Sui turned back impatiently to see Sheng Tian again with pleading eyes. Before speaking, he even looked around to confirm there was no third person in the ward:

“Daughter, I’m begging you, could you please ask that person not to have someone follow me every day anymore?”

Sheng Sui saw the fear in the man’s eyes and frowned: “That person is a caregiver. Who else do you think takes care of you?”

“What caregiver! You don’t know what that person does every day!”

Sheng Tian remembered how every time he woke up in the middle of the night, someone would be standing by his bed staring at him, along with what Zhou Shiyu had said during their first meeting. His jaw and shoulders began shaking again: “I was indeed a bastard before, and I shouldn’t have caused trouble at the hospital and hit you, but could you please be merciful and not let that person have someone watch me for life? Also, please beg him not to release that video.”

Too emotionally agitated, Sheng Tian’s eyes were filled with bloodshot veins as he spoke incoherently: “Because of your illness, I couldn’t hold my head up for over ten or twenty years—people would point and whisper whenever I went out. Now they’ve finally forgotten, but if that video gets released again, I might as well be dead—”

The abrupt sound of the door opening forcefully interrupted the conversation. The caregiver that Sheng Tian claimed Zhou Shiyu had sent to monitor him entered. While Sheng Tian instantly fell silent, the caregiver calmly nodded to Sheng Sui in acknowledgment.

The man, who was indeed much more imposing than ordinary caregivers, stepped forward with a polite smile: “Hello, Miss Sheng.”

Sheng Sui nodded in greeting: “Hello.”

Not knowing what he had experienced, ever since the caregiver entered, Sheng Tian didn’t dare say another unnecessary word. His lips were completely bloodless, looking fearful and terrified yet not daring to speak—a sight that reminded Sheng Sui of how she used to feel every night when she saw her father come home as a child.

The expression and look in his eyes were virtually identical.

After casually chatting with the caregiver about Sheng Tian’s recovery for a few sentences, Sheng Sui paid no more attention to the pleading looks from the man on the hospital bed. Without any hesitation, she turned and left the ward.

But her mind kept replaying the nonsense Sheng Tian had said when he grabbed her wrist.

Zhou Shiyu had a video in his possession. If its content could make Sheng Tian so terrified that his reputation would be ruined, it could only be from when Sheng Tian had caused trouble at the hospital years ago: because he refused to pay for Sheng Sui’s emergency treatment costs and hospitalization fees for treating diabetes, Sheng Tian had not only dragged the still-unconscious Sheng Sui out of the ICU like a broken doll, but in his drunken state, had grabbed a nearby patient’s IV bottle and directly injured the doctor who came to help.

The behavior was too vile. This incident was repeatedly broadcast on local news and media. Sheng Tian lost his job because of it, was forced to move, and was frequently recognized even after changing his name.

Only in recent years, as the man aged rapidly due to illness and could no longer be identified even when compared to the old news photos, plus having changed his name, was he gradually forgotten for his evil deeds.

In contrast, as the victim, Sheng Sui’s identity information was much better protected. Especially after moving and changing high schools, since Sheng Tian never came to school, even the homeroom teacher knew nothing about this past incident, let alone other teachers and classmates.

Sheng Sui was certain she had never mentioned this incident about her father’s hospital disturbance to Zhou Shiyu.

So, if Zhou Shiyu had indeed, as he previously claimed, developed feelings during high school, how did he know about this hospital incident, and how did he obtain the video from that time?

As the sunset gradually fell, Sheng Sui walked alone through the bustling hospital corridors, certain absurd thoughts taking root in her mind.

Had Zhou Shiyu specifically investigated her?

Or—had their first meeting actually occurred much earlier than the high school years she believed?