Love with ulterior motives

Chapter 10

"Oh." Wu Bilian opened her wallet and handed it over. "Will I die?"

I don't know, but if we persist with treatment, there's hope; leukemia can be cured. The doctor gave me a receipt.

Tang Bohao is now the workshop director. He can inspect equipment and products after get off work and can take containers home with sulfuric acid every day. As the days go by, the opposite of love is hate, for some people.

The opposite of love is actually forgetting. It's just that we can't see through it.

Tang Bohao saw everything. "You filthy woman, you shameless woman, I'll make you die!"

After hearing the doctor's words, Wu Bilian fainted and fell to the ground. The doctor looked at her guiltily and said, "I'm sorry."

After waking up, Wu Bilian called Tang Bohao.

What's wrong? I still love her, otherwise I wouldn't have answered her call.

"Come over tonight, I have something to tell you." Wu Bilian's hands trembled.

Holding the money and compensation refunded by the hospital, along with the medication for her hair loss and anemia, Wu Bilian wanted nothing more than to shout to the world, to see Tang Bohao immediately, and to go home and have a good cry.

The landlord came to collect the rent, and the old lady left with a full load. This time, there were no delays, and she paid for six months.

Take a shower, take a shower. Before showering, put that damned diagnosis in the drawer and explain it to him later. He'll be touched, won't he? Wu Bilian was in a good mood because she could continue living, even if it was hard.

Hum a song and turn on the tap.

Tang Bohao had the key, so he opened the door, holding the concentrated sulfuric acid he had prepared the night before. His eyes were already red from the fumes. Through the bathroom window, he could hear cheerful singing.

The door wasn't locked, so I went in. I pushed open the glass door, and there was a familiar body, familiar eyes.

"You go out first." Wu Bilian was startled. "I'll talk to you after I finish showering."

Tang Bohao looked at her, his eyes burning with a mixture of lust and rage. He opened the jar and splashed the acid forcefully. Wu Bilian didn't even have time to scream or feel the pain before her face was disfigured, her breath stopped, and her love and hate shifted in an instant. Her lifeless body was covered in strong acid, and when she opened her eyes, they were also filled with sulfuric acid, which quickly dissolved and turned black.

Tang Bohao suddenly felt excited. He thought that by destroying his lover, no one else could possess her soul.

"Let me help you take a bath." Tang Bohao put on gloves, applied sulfuric acid, carefully applying it to every spot, afraid of wasting a single drop or missing a spot. He looked at his woman with loving eyes, thinking, "This way, no one can get close to you anymore."

Blood flowed like a river, memories washed away along with fragments of internal organs down the drain. The water gushed, washing over the supple skeleton of Wu Bilian, a woman with a natural talent for dance. Tang Bohao was absorbed in his masterpiece. Exhausted, he turned on the television. Wu Bilian lay silently in the sulfuric acid, slowly dissolving, her face unrecognizable.

Night had fallen, a darkness that brought a sense of safety. Wu Bilian's last remains lay buried in the floor tiles. Tang Bohao, having finished everything, rubbed his hands excitedly, straightened his clothes, and began his journey as a fugitive.

He'd had enough of dying, so he surrendered. To die together with his lover was the most romantic way he could die for his cause. Until the moment the bullet pierced his chest, he saw Wu Bilian spinning on the stage, waving and smiling at him.

Why didn't she love me anymore? Now it's all right, we can be together again.

What is fate? What is destiny? What is something that can be encountered? What is something that cannot be sought? I am willing to be destroyed by you. Life and death are just a vivid fairy tale that makes one despair.

"Dinner's ready." Xian Jing woke up with a start and suddenly saw that Wu Bilian's eyes were filled with tears in the photo on the wall.

(nineteen)

"Time to eat." Xianjing walked out of the room and turned off the light, plunging it into darkness.

Wu Chuntao is burning incense; today is the first day of the lunar month. She is praying devoutly, muttering incantations, and bowing three times.

Finally reunited with family. Xianjing felt a sense of relief, finding joy in helping ghosts. A person who can live with their conscience is truly happy.

The family was probably not well-off, so they only cooked one bowl of meat, charred black, with condiments next to it, including blood-red chili sauce. Xianjing picked up her chopsticks, took a piece, and put it in her mouth. "Auntie, let's eat some together."

Wu Chuntao walked to the door and said, "I'm not eating now. I'm going out to call the old man back. He's writing something at the door."

"Write?" Xianjing found it strange. "Write what?"

"After Bilian died, the old man went mad, though sometimes he wasn't. He used to be a calligrapher." Wu Chuntao glanced at Xianjing, then went behind the door to get an umbrella and went out.

Xian Jing peered out the doorway. Wu Jianjun was writing on the alley wall, holding an aluminum bucket and standing in the rain, his expression serious, completely oblivious to his hair getting wet. On such a night, dark, desolate, and bleak, Wu Chuntao stood silently behind him, holding an umbrella. Wu Jianjun was wielding his brush, the bucket filled with red paint, a shocking sight. He wrote everywhere, writing the single character "惨" (miserable). Large and small "惨" characters were strung together, exceptionally conspicuous under the pale streetlights.

Fate plays tricks on people. What a happy family... Xianjing returned to the table and suddenly felt that she was happy. Her parents were alive and well, and she had a boyfriend who loved her.

After writing the last word of the day, Wu Jianjun shook off the rain and went inside.

"Hello!" Xian Jing stood up and nodded. It seemed that Bi Lian's father was quite normal. "I am Wu Bi Lian's friend. She asked me to bring something over." She then pointed to the small red lacquered box.

“My child has suffered so much.” Wu Jianjun picked up the box. “My child, you’re finally back and we’re reunited.”

Xianjing comforted her, "Don't be too sad. It's fate."

"Thank you, young lady." Wu Jianjun wiped away his tears. "You must have had a long and tiring journey. Take a rest."

"Didn't your aunt come back with you?" Xianjing looked at the food on the table, which emitted a strange aroma.

Wu Jianjun was surprised and asked, "Which auntie?"

“Bilian’s mother just cooked for me.” Xianjing looked at Wu Jianjun. “She said you were writing outside and wanted to come back for dinner.”

Wu Jianjun's face twitched. "Girl, you must be mistaken. Bilian's mother went with the child when she left."

"Impossible, I was just talking to her." Xianjing found it hard to believe.

Wu Jianjun opened the door to another room. "Don't believe me? Look."

Wu Chuntao's black-and-white portrait smiled in the middle of the room.

“She committed suicide.” Wu Jianjun stroked his beloved’s image in the glass frame, recalling painfully, “After her daughter died, she refused to eat anything. She felt guilty and regretted kicking her daughter out of the house, and regretted cutting up Bilian’s most beloved dance costume. She said she wanted to atone for her sins, and then she took a kitchen knife and cut off her own arm. I wasn’t home at the time, and she was gone when I came back.”

"Ah!" Xian Jing stood there blankly. "That bowl of meat?"

Wu Jianjun rushed to the refrigerator, but the arm in the freezer compartment was gone. "It's her, it's her, it's her, she's back..."

Xian Jing felt a wave of fear wash over her; a chill ran through her from head to toe. Wu Chuntao's frozen arms, the meat being chopped repeatedly on the chopping board—this was the best expression of gratitude.

Wu Jianjun said to Xian Jing, "I couldn't keep her, so I kept her hand. I always feel that she is still by my side."

Xian Jing was trembling violently. The piece of meat she had just eaten seemed to be stuck in her throat; she couldn't spit it out or swallow it. Her stomach and intestines were churning violently. What a terrible feeling!

The phone rang; it was Tang Zhou. Tang Zhou only said one sentence before Xian Jing grabbed her bag, opened the door, and ran out quickly, knocking over the meat on the table, scattering it all over the floor. Wu Jianjun stared blankly, chuckling softly. His teeth were very yellow, and the lividity at his temples spread rapidly across his body in the dim light, while the continuous red characters on the wall gradually faded.

It's alright, I'll continue tomorrow, I'll keep writing, under the sun, in the wind and rain.

Tang Zhou said on the phone: "An Zhu gave me the address. Run quickly and don't look back. It's a haunted house."

(twenty)

A haunted house? Xian Jing, breathless, got into Tang Zhou's car. "Why didn't you say so sooner?"

"I only found out by calling Anzhu. I was stunned when she told me the address." The car window was blurred by the rain, and I couldn't see the road ahead clearly.

Tang Zhou handed Xian Jing a tissue and continued, "Wu Jianjun's family suffered a tragedy. His daughter was killed, his wife committed suicide, and he couldn't think straight. He made some homemade bombs and blew up the supermarket. In the end, no one else died, but he was torn to pieces. It was horrific; his internal organs even flew across the street."

Xianjing felt the car's air conditioning was a bit cold. She was shivering from the cold.

"That house originally belonged to their family, but now nobody cares about it, it's just sitting there. I heard that if you go there late at night, you can vaguely see lights, and someone is writing on the window, and there are sounds coming from the kitchen." Tang Zhou paused and whispered, "The resentment is too strong. Several people have been hit and killed on the road in front of it, and I heard that this house is going to be demolished."

Xianjing felt the air was so stuffy it was almost suffocating, so she opened the car window and let the drizzle drift away.

"I was just helping out, they won't hurt me, will they?" Xian Jing felt increasingly nauseous thinking about the piece of flesh in her stomach. She gestured to stop by the roadside, got out of the car, squatted in the rain, and vomited. There was nothing but yellow bile.

Tang Zhou patted Xian Jing's back and said, "If you're not feeling well, go back to the hotel. It's all in the past anyway. I know you're a good person, but just because you think you're right doesn't mean others will appreciate it. Especially with those evil things, it's best not to agree to help them so easily."

Xianjing got into the car and asked, "Why?"

“Because they are ghosts.” Tang Zhou stared intently ahead, then fell silent.

As Xianjing recalled everything that had just happened, a wave of desolation washed over her.

"It's good that you escaped. If you had stayed until midnight, you probably would have ended up like them." Tang Zhou couldn't bear to see Xian Jing's frightened expression.

"Would they really target me?" Xianjing wiped the cold sweat from her forehead. "Thanks to you. You seem to know a lot about these things."

"It's okay, I'll be more careful next time. I only know a little bit about this stuff. By the way, you didn't eat anything from their place, did you?" Tang Zhou said casually.

Xian Jing felt dizzy and her face turned pale. "No...no...of course not."

"That's good." Tang Zhou made a sharp turn and finally got onto the main road. At that moment, Xian Jing's heart jumped and her stomach churned.

Back to the hotel.

Tang Zhou sipped his hot tea. "I've already prepared your plane ticket. I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow morning."

"What will happen if we eat what they make? Will we die?" Xianjing asked.

"No. Didn't you not eat? Why are you asking?" Tang Zhou asked, puzzled.

"I was just curious, that's all," Xian Jing said, relieved.

"Okay, it's late. If I don't go home soon, my wife will scold me again." The phone rang immediately.

"I'm talking to Mr. Zhang outside about something. I'll be right back." Tang Zhou walked to the window. "Don't lock the door again today."

"

After hanging up the phone, he smiled wryly at Xianjing and said, "See you tomorrow. It's all over now. Get some rest."

In fact, Xianjing really wanted him to stay a little longer, until she fell asleep before leaving, but she couldn't bring herself to say it, after all, he was someone else's man.

Ye You!

When she called and heard his voice, Xianjing felt at ease. She didn't dare tell him anything else, only that she would be returning to Beijing tomorrow.

"I'll come pick you up then," Ye You continued. "Wait a moment."

She lifted the blanket, used her other hand to comfort her little brother, patted his head and said, "Don't worry, she'll be back tomorrow."

Xian Jing asked, "Who are you talking to?"

"And your favorite thing?" Ye You smiled.

"You really are..." Xian Jing was both amused and exasperated. Just a minute ago she was filled with fear, but now it had all vanished.

"Just kidding, my heart misses you more than my body." Ye You saw this sentence in a magazine called Vanguard and remembered it.

Xianjing's eyes welled up with tears, she sniffled, and said, "See you tomorrow."

On the plane, a slightly overweight middle-aged man sat next to me. The journey was long, and he had fallen asleep with his head tilted to the side, snoring loudly. Xianjing didn't find it annoying at all; in fact, she was in an unusually good mood. With love in her heart, who cared whether he snored or not?

Ye You was not seen at the airport; they searched but still couldn't find him.

Just as I was about to make a call, I saw a crowd gathered there. Xianjing was also Chinese, and all Chinese people like to watch a spectacle, so I went over.

I almost fainted.

A long, pink rose wall, adorned with three words—"Jie Xian Jing"—in purple forget-me-nots, stood behind the flower wall. Ye You stood there with her lovely smiling face.

It was as if I could hear the cracking sound of the ice breaking.

Ye You walked over and hugged him.

Before getting in the car, Xianjing asked, "What a waste! You could have kept these roses at home. You're really wasting money."