Chapter Thirty-Five: Temptation (Part One)

Although I don't know why you want to help me, I still thank you. As for that forty thousand yuan, I'll find a way to pay you back," Zhang Jing gazed at the young man before her, unable to fathom any reason why he'd spend money to help her. Regardless, his money must be returned.

After leaving the bar, he hadn't said a word, simply taking her directly to this upscale lounge's private room. What could he want? Could it be that he expects... Zhang Jing grew uneasy at the thought, her vigilance rising. "If you have any conditions for helping me, now's the time to say so. But I absolutely will not…" Her voice faltered, unable to finish as her face flushed a delicate, embarrassed red.

I glanced at the beautiful figure beside me, my expression calm and unruffled. "You misunderstand, Miss Zhang. I didn't help you for any particular reason, nor do I have any designs on you. I simply saw you as someone, like myself, adrift at the ends of the earth, and felt a pang of sympathy. Don't feel burdened by it. If you truly wish to thank me, then drink with me—let's talk." As I spoke, pain welled in my heart. Shaking my head, I opened the bottle of Lafite worth tens of thousands and poured it slowly into both our glasses.

"Come, let's toast to damned love." I raised my glass, gently clinking hers, and, without waiting for her response, downed the wine in one clean gulp.

Zhang Jing stared at me, a hint of puzzlement in her eyes. Slowly, understanding dawned, and she raised her glass to take a small sip, her lips curling into a faint, bitter smile. "It seems you're someone who's been hurt by love too."

I neither confirmed nor denied, simply gazing at the wine glass in my hand, pain flickering across my face. "This world is, at times, truly strange and wondrous. Sometimes, a person feels that everything he strives for exists solely because of the one he loves. Yet when that illusion shatters in an instant, terror, confusion, and above all, heartbreak overwhelm him. Sometimes, one can be so arrogant, so possessive, believing the world belongs to him. But when he looks back, he finds himself pitiful, pathetic, for not a blade of grass or leaf truly belongs to him, and all his efforts have been in vain. Miss Zhang, tell me, why must people live so tired, so full of pain? Why does losing love feel like the sky falling, making them feel as if they are nothing?"

At my words, Zhang Jing's bright eyes dimmed. After a long silence, she replied, "Perhaps... perhaps losing something isn't always bad. At least, it lets you see the world more clearly."

"Are you talking about yourself?" I smiled bitterly, pouring myself more wine and taking another gulp. "Sometimes, I wish I could numb myself in one-sided longing, wish I could live in a world blurred to me. At least then, I felt motivated, felt happy..."

"That happiness isn't real, it's just escapism. All of it is a lie." Zhang Jing grew more agitated, imitating me by draining her glass in one go. Her eyes shone with crystalline tears, making her look heartbreakingly lovely. "Just like me, I used to keep avoiding the issue, and only now do I realize how foolish I was..."

"Foolishness is only relative to oneself. If you believe your efforts are worthwhile, then so what if you're foolish? 'The world laughs at me for being mad, I laugh at others for not seeing through.' How many people in this world are crazy with love, wounded because of it? If being foolish is wrong, then everyone is foolish, and there are no wise men left."

"Ha..." Zhang Jing let out a bitter laugh. "You're really strange. So young, yet you speak like an old soul. But what you say makes sense." She reached out her delicate, fair hand. "I'm Zhang Jing. It's nice to meet you. We are both wounded by love—let's be friends."

I took her hand, nodded, and said, "My name is Xiao Qiang. It's a pleasure to meet you."

After introductions, the atmosphere grew warmer. Our conversation became more lively, and the earlier poignant words lingered, making both our hearts uneasy. Unconsciously, we finished two bottles of wine. Combined with the several bottles I'd had at the bar earlier, I was truly feeling tipsy and muddled. In my previous life, I knew my limit with wine was only a few bottles, so if I kept drinking, I'd definitely end up passed out here, unable to make it home. In front of a beautiful woman, I certainly couldn't get drunk and make a fool of myself, so I stopped drinking, simply leaning back on the sofa with her and enjoying the gentle music and comfortable atmosphere of the private room.

After a while, as the effects of the alcohol subsided, I squinted and glanced at Zhang Jing across from me. Her pretty face was now flushed as red as a ripe apple. Gradually, I noticed something was off. She seemed hot, her body trembling and shifting, a bead of fragrant sweat appearing on her brow. I asked in surprise, "Zhang Jing, are you hot? Should we turn down the air conditioning?"

"No... no need. I... I don't know what's wrong. My body... my body feels so hot..." Her moist eyes glanced at me, then quickly turned away, her head lowering, silent, but her increasingly heavy breathing seemed to make the atmosphere in the room a little ambiguous.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?" Now I was sure Zhang Jing was not feeling well, but I assumed it was just discomfort from the wine. "Do you have trouble drinking red wine? I'm sorry, I didn't know. Are you okay?"

At this moment, Zhang Jing could no longer answer. She only felt as if tens of thousands of ants were crawling all over her body, itching intensely. Her beautiful legs beneath her blue dress rubbed together involuntarily. The heat throughout her body almost made her faint. She didn't know what was happening—she'd never felt this way before. She hated it, yet her body seemed not to resist.

"I'm... I'm fine... just a bit hot, Xiao Qiang... I..." She wanted to say that she needed a shower, wanted to wash away the heat coursing through her body, but as the words reached her throat, something felt wrong, and she hurriedly tried to suppress the tingling, softly moaning, "Xiao Qiang, I think... I think I should go first."

I had no idea what Zhang Jing was thinking, but seeing her flushed face and trembling body, I assumed it was a skin reaction to the wine, so I nodded in agreement, feeling it was time to leave. I stood up, preparing to leave with her.

After paying, Zhang Jing and I left the luxurious lounge together. But as we descended the stairs, I noticed more and more that something was off about her. Watching her stagger as she walked, I grew puzzled. I'd drunk most of the wine, so why was she more intoxicated than I was? When she stumbled again, I quickly caught her, holding her delicate body and frowning with concern. "Zhang Jing, are you really sick? Should I take you to the hospital?"

"No... no need..." Zhang Jing now felt numb all over, heat pooling between her thighs, but she knew this was not pain, nor the weakness of illness. She assumed it was an allergic reaction, exacerbated by the alcohol. Collapsed in my arms, she breathed heavily, "Take... take me home..."

"Alright." Supporting her, I nodded and intended to find a taxi to take her home. At that moment, I felt a tickle on my neck, a wave of feminine fragrance wafting to my nose. Looking down, I saw Zhang Jing had turned and completely fallen into my embrace. Her soft, white breasts were pressed together, peeking out from her pink shirt, presenting a glimpse of spring that sobered me considerably. The alluring woman lay in my arms—a feeling that was truly deadly!