He remained motionless in that position, and then dandelions began to grow continuously on the floor in front of him.
"Go take a shower first." Pei Shaocheng exhaled a puff of smoke with disgust. "You stink."
Wen Yuhan got up without a word and walked towards the bathroom. Just as she was about to close the door, Pei Shaocheng called her back again:
"Why besides writing?"
Wen Yuhan was silent for a moment, then said softly, "I'm tired."
Pei Shaocheng scrutinized him with his dark eyes, trying to catch a trace of emotion in the other's calm tone.
However, nothing was found.
"Can I go take a shower now?" Wen Yuhan asked.
Pei Shaocheng remained silent, while Wen Yuhan turned and entered the bathroom. Soon, the sound of running water from the shower could be heard.
Pei Shaocheng finished his cigarette and lit another. Although his expression was not clearly seen through the smoke, it was definitely not one of pleasure.
He got up and walked to the table, looking at the drawer. After a while, he reached out and pulled it open, where a worn-out fountain pen lay quietly inside.
It was that Montblanc.
During Wen Yuhan's absence, he had Emily try every means to contact the manufacturer in an attempt to repair the pen. However, because the pen was an outdated model, there were no replacement parts available. Pei Shaocheng then specifically asked someone to contact the head office in Germany, and they are currently awaiting feedback.
Pei Shaocheng carefully took out the pen and gently touched the scratches inch by inch.
Upon hearing a noise from the bathroom door, he quickly put it back in its place and closed the drawer.
"Are you done washing?" Pei Shaocheng asked.
Wen Yuhan responded, bent down naked, picked out the cigarette pack from his pants pocket, took out a cigarette, paused before lighting it, and asked Pei Shaocheng:
"Would you like a kiss?"
Seeing that Pei Shaocheng did not answer, Wen Yuhan put the cigarette back into the cigarette case.
"Wen Yuhan, what is this all about?" Pei Shaocheng said in a low voice, "Just routine procedures before achieving our goal?"
Wen Yuhan smiled upon hearing this, then looked up at Pei Shaocheng with a faint expression: "It seems... you were the one who made me take it off."
Pei Shaocheng was speechless after being rebuked, and gave a hateful laugh: "Very well."
He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and said, word by word, "Then please do your best, Teacher Wen. I will decide my choice based on your performance."
The lights suddenly went out, plunging the room into darkness.
When the cool lips touched Pei Shaocheng, the dormant memories within him seemed to awaken in an instant.
The moment the soft, cool toothpaste-scented toothpaste entered his mouth, Pei Shaocheng even let out a low, hoarse groan.
He raised his hand and pulled the person into his arms, pressing them tightly against his body as if he wanted to crush them and let them seep into his very bones...
At this moment, Pei Shaocheng lost control.
He cursed under his breath and pushed the man onto the large bed.
In an instant, the colorful butterflies multiplied into countless smaller ones, fluttering freely around the two of them.
Wen Yuhan stared blankly at the butterflies, feeling as if her body was a boat tossed about in a storm, being battered by waves.
So sad... so sad...
Wen Yuhan's breathing became broken, but her eyes still followed the fluttering butterflies.
He heard countless sounds around him—ambiguous, mocking, low, sharp… Images of the two of them flashed before his eyes in a chaotic rush, gradually becoming veiled by a layer of mist and blurred.
Why are you crying?
A somber voice suddenly came from above, and in an instant, the room was illuminated by bright lights.
Wen Yuhan instinctively closed his eyes, but was pulled by the hair and forced to open them.
"Is it hard for you to do this with me?" Pei Shaocheng stopped, staring coldly at him. "Are you being wronged?"
Wen Yuhan wanted to shake her head and say no, but the tears in her eyes flowed even more profusely at this moment.
Pei Shaocheng seemed to be enraged by Wen Yuhan's reaction and threatened sharply, "Don't cry, do you hear me? Don't cry!"
Wen Yuhan opened her mouth, and finally whispered in a trembling voice, "Pei Shaocheng...it hurts."
...
That night, Wen Yuhan's consciousness kept switching back and forth between lucidity and confusion.
Before I fell into a complete coma, there seemed to be a faint glimmer of dawn outside the window.
After that, he never left the room again. He would occasionally watch TV haphazardly, and take a short nap when he was sleepy. Most of the time, he would stare blankly at one spot until dark.
Pei Shaocheng's room contained many books about drama and film, but Wen Yuhan had never opened them.
Aside from going to the toilet and taking a shower, he hardly left the bed all day.
This floor is rarely visited, so many people in the film crew didn't even know that someone else was living in Pei Shaocheng's room.
Occasionally, passersby would hear the sound of glass or something breaking coming from inside the room. But whenever someone knocked on the door, the room would immediately fall into complete silence.
On several occasions, Pei Shaocheng pressed Wen Yuhan down, forcing him to look at books against the bookshelf.
But Wen Yuhan simply refused to cooperate.
No matter how patiently Pei Shaocheng tried to guide and communicate at the beginning, it would eventually turn into Pei Shaocheng's angry shouts.
"What are you afraid of?! Huh?! What are you afraid of?!"
His only response was a long silence.
Snowflakes fluttered down, accumulating in a thick layer on the window frame.
Wen Yuhan saw the butterflies and dandelions more and more frequently. He planted his cigarette butt in the snow, and a new plant grew instantly.
That winter was far too long.
...
A note from the author:
Thank you so much for your support! I will continue to work hard!
Chapter 47
Wen Yuhan completely turned herself into a mushroom, staying in her room all day and never leaving. Her daily routine consisted of pulling the curtains back closed after Pei Shaocheng had opened them in the morning.
At mealtimes, Pei Shaocheng would try his best to come back and eat with him, almost forcing him to swallow his food. Occasionally, when he couldn't come back, he would arrange for someone to watch Wen Yuhan eat and drink, and report back to him promptly.
Pei Shaocheng finished work early that day. When he returned to his room, he saw Wen Yuhan leaning against the bed, with unburnt cigarettes in the ashtray. He held his hand in mid-air, as if to catch something.
Pei Shaocheng narrowed his eyes, silently watching him. Wen Yuhan belatedly noticed the other's gaze, and somewhat slowly turned to look at Pei Shaocheng, withdrawing his hand.
"What are you doing?" Pei Shaocheng asked.
"It's nothing." Wen Yuhan lowered his eyes, seemingly lost in thought.
He has become increasingly taciturn lately, the smile that used to grace his lips has disappeared, and the only emotion that is most often seen in his eyes is emptiness.
Pei Shaocheng felt a tightness in his chest, took a deep breath, walked to the window, and drew back the curtains.
He had intended to tell Wen Yuhan that the sunset was beautiful and if she wanted to have dinner together on the terrace.
But when the soft light from outside shone on Wen Yuhan, a hint of panic flashed in her previously dull eyes, and her long, pale hands instantly gripped the corner of the blanket tightly.
"Could you please draw the curtains..." Wen Yuhan paused, then said softly, "Please."
Pei Shaocheng's heart skipped a beat at the other person's words.
These days, he and Wen Yuhan do it almost every night.
At first, she was always angry at Wen Yuhan's submissive attitude. Despite cooperating, she couldn't feel any emotion from him, and she would even get distracted from time to time.
Therefore, Pei Shaocheng tried many different methods to manipulate Wen Yuhan's emotions. For example, he would suddenly stop at the last moment, turn on a bright light to shine on Wen Yuhan's face, and capture the other party's panic and embarrassment at that moment.
For example, he would drag Wen Yuhan into the bathroom, make him watch everything happening in front of the mirror, and then whisper many explicit things in his ear that were beneath his dignity to constantly provoke him, and he wouldn't allow Wen Yuhan to close his eyes.
On one occasion, he even forced Wen Yuhan to recite the history of drama during the process, refusing to stop until she finished. When Wen Yuhan, with her neck tilted back, could no longer utter a complete sentence, she buried the Montblanc pen deep inside her…
At this time, Pei Shaocheng would always ask Wen Yuhan to beg him.
At first, Wen Yuhan bit her lip and remained silent, but later she couldn't bear it any longer. She gripped Pei Shaocheng's shoulders tightly and repeated in a hoarse voice:
"No, please."
Now, when such humiliating and submissive words have become a common phrase that the other party can casually utter, Pei Shaocheng himself is the one who panics.
He drew the curtains back shut, sat down by the bed, pulled Wen Yuhan into his arms, and gently stroked her shoulder-length hair, soothingly saying in a soft voice, "Hmm, if you don't want to turn them on, then don't... What do you want to eat tonight? How about I take you out?"
Wen Yuhan mechanically shook her head and said softly, "I don't want to see anyone."
Pei Shaocheng stared at Wen Yuhan with dark eyes. He knew he shouldn't keep Wen Yuhan tied to his side like this anymore. But he couldn't bring himself to say that he would allow Wen Yuhan to go out on his own.
Pei Shaocheng was always afraid, afraid that if he opened his mouth, Wen Yuhan would disappear again as she had done before.
He breathed a sigh of relief and said in a deep voice, "The agreement with Lu Yanheng has been going through the process these past two days, and I've also accepted the film contracts for two movies that his company will be the main investor in next year."
"Is that so..." Wen Yuhan finally reacted slightly, raising the corners of her lips into a faint smile. "That's great."
Pei Shaocheng took in his smile, and his eyes darkened again.
"You haven't laughed like that in a long time." Pei Shaocheng's tone grew cold. "Are you happy to hear him mentioned?"
Wen Yuhan was taken aback, then sighed, "No."
"What's wrong?" Pei Shaocheng lifted Wen Yuhan's chin. "No matter how I try to coax you, you always seem indifferent. Why do you smile when I mention him?"
"I just don't want to drag others down with me because of myself..."
"You've dragged Lu Yanheng into this? You really care about him."
Wen Yuhan's lips moved slightly, and after a moment she indifferently avoided his gaze: "Never mind..." In the first place, she shouldn't have come back.
Pei Shaocheng had no intention of letting him off easily. He grabbed Wen Yuhan's soft hair again, forcing him to look at him, and commanded in a low voice, "Go on, finish what you want to say."
Wen Yuhan winced in pain, but her eyes remained as still as a dead lake. Her hands, hanging limply at her sides, curled slightly at the fingertips, and she calmly asked Pei Shaocheng:
"Tonight, shall we?"