Chapter 15: I Don’t Want to Be Your Friend Anymore

“Hm?”

Wei Qingxuan’s heart slammed to its peak in an instant, heat surging through his entire body.

“When did you find out?”

His tone remained calm, yet a strange excitement rose within him, all those unspeakable thoughts flooding out, tinged with a metallic sweetness that thrilled him.

He could even hear his own heartbeat.

Thud, thud, thud!

It wasn’t fear.

It was the tremor of exhilaration pushed to its limit.

At last, she had noticed.

Or rather, she had finally chosen to tear the veil away.

The shame of being exposed tangled with satisfaction, driving him more mad than ever before.

The mask he had maintained was crumbling away piece by piece, and he found himself addicted to the fever of this moment.

It was only a pity he had missed her first reaction when she discovered the truth.

Wen Qi somehow had a leaf in her hand, twirling it lazily between her fingers.

It was as though his every thought and feeling had replaced that leaf, left in her palm to be toyed with.

It felt too good.

She always knew how to make him addicted with a single sentence.

“I guessed when I threw it away. It wasn’t hard,” Wen Qi recalled.

“Oh, right. Actually, the day I opened your bathroom door, I already saw it.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

Wen Qi turned her head.

“Curious.”

She tossed the leaf aside and spoke unhurriedly.

“Curious what your other side is like.”

She even guessed, “My scarf is in your bathroom too, isn’t it? What did you use it for?”

Wei Qingxuan fell silent.

There were too many uses.

Too many, too frequent.

So many that he was afraid if he said them aloud, Wen Qi would hate him.

Hate him?

At that possibility, his fingers clenched sharply.

“When are you giving it back? Remember to wash it,” Wen Qi dusted off her hands and prepared to return to her room.

She would never use that shawl or scarf again.

But she certainly wasn’t leaving them in Wei Qingxuan’s hands.

Since he didn’t want to get entangled with her, then her things naturally had to be returned.

“I won’t give them back.”

Wen Qi was halted by that sentence, surprise almost spilling from her voice.

“What did you say?”

He curved his lips slightly.

“I said, I won’t return the shawl or the scarf.”

This was nothing like the obedient version of him who used to comply with her every word.

It made Wen Qi’s eyes light up for a brief second, as though she had discovered some intriguing treasure.

“Tsk.”

She crossed her arms and looked him up and down.

“I’ve discovered you have a bit of that refined scoundrel vibe. I’ve asked you many times before whether you liked me. Your answer always seemed to be…”

“I don’t,” Wei Qingxuan cut in first.

He still couldn’t say everything outright.

“But maybe lately… a little.”

He carefully captured Wen Qi’s expression.

There was no frown.

No retreat.

Not even the disgust he had feared countless times.

He exhaled in relief, though his heartbeat refused to slow.

Her face was too calm.

So calm it was as if he couldn’t stir even the slightest ripple in her.

“Why didn’t you hide it better?”

His wild joy stopped instantly.

Her words were like a bucket of cold water poured straight over him.

He closed his eyes briefly.

“But it’s kind of interesting,” Wen Qi crouched in front of him and poked his lowered fingertips.

“Wei Qingxuan, I actually don’t like stiff, overly proper people. They’re boring and hard to talk to.”

Compared to placid people, Wen Qi preferred those who brought her stimulation and impact.

“If you’d kept disliking me, if I hadn’t noticed at all, we probably could’ve… well, barely stayed friends.”

She stood as she spoke, as though about to deliver a final verdict.

Wei Qingxuan stared at her lips, convinced she would say next: unfortunately, we can’t even be anything now.

She had someone she liked.

She didn’t like him.

So he had almost no chance.

But it didn’t matter.

He would take her.

Her warmth.

Her gaze.

Even the scraps of attention she occasionally gave others.

He would take them all.

Something clogged in his throat.

Each word had to break through a tremendous resistance, shattering completely the composed companion he had been before.

“I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”

Wen Qi looked slightly surprised.

“Is that so? Why?”

She could sense his feelings hadn’t arisen in just a day or two.

If he hadn’t spoken before, he must have wanted to remain friends.

After all, once certain words are spoken, you either become lovers or strangers.

Wei Qingxuan stood as well, his shadow falling over her, his gaze locking onto Wen Qi.

“Because I want to hold you and sit you on my sink.”

Wen Qi took a moment to process that, then looked at him.

“That’s quite poetic. How long have you wanted that?”

He lowered his head slowly, bracing his hands on his knees so his gaze met hers.

“Qiqi. Day and night.”

His previous restraint had simply been so he could stay by Wen Qi’s side.

So she would feel at ease with him.

But people grow greedy.

Once you move one step closer, you want another.

He had replayed it countless times in his mind.

He couldn’t stand watching Wen Qi completely withdraw from him.

Even if she liked someone else.

“Do you know what the result would be?” Wen Qi’s tone was calm.

“What? Do you have a boyfriend? You have someone you like.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

Wei Qingxuan wanted to confirm it once more.

Wen Qi blinked.

She was curious what he would do if she did.

After all, he seemed certain she liked someone, yet he still confessed.

His breathing tightened slowly.

Under her curious gaze, he lifted her hand and placed it against his abdomen, speaking word by word,

“Even so.”

Her interest was his only bargaining chip now.

Wen Qi let him guide her hand.

She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t touch either.

Instead, she laughed softly.

“Wei Qingxuan, you’re really starting to get interesting.”

Wen Qi pulled him toward the corner wall.

“I want to kiss you. You smell really nice. Different from the other boys I’ve been around.”

Her fingers still held his collar, revealing a sliver of collarbone glowing pale in the shadows.

He used to have no particular scent.

But lately, she found him increasingly pleasant.

“I’ve never experienced kissing before, but I imagine it would be nice with you.”

Wei Qingxuan’s Adam’s apple rolled sharply.

He caught the scent of gardenia in her hair, mixed with the earthy smell from the alley, strangely intoxicating.

“Just want to kiss?” he asked.

“Is there even a little bit of liking?”

Maybe a little?

She was so close.

Surely there was him reflected in her eyes.

And she said she wanted to kiss him.

A faint hope began to form.

Perhaps her feelings for that person weren’t that deep.

After all, Wen Qi was someone whose passions burned hot and faded fast.

Wen Qi nodded.

“As purely as it gets.”

A surge of emotion rose abruptly in his chest.

Wei Qingxuan turned his head away, breaking eye contact.

The rejection was obvious.

It was also what Wen Qi had expected.

Someone as proper to a fault as Wei Qingxuan would never accept a kiss without reason.

Otherwise, she would have exposed him for taking her shawl long ago.

“Wei Qingxuan.”

He turned back.

But Wen Qi didn’t move closer.

“I’m not someone who can easily say I like someone. But I am interested in you. Still, I know your personality is rigid as steel. If you can’t accept it, you can cut your losses now.”

She sighed softly.

It was a pity to lose a friend.

“Give me some time. I should move out the day after tomorrow.”

Before she finished speaking, her wrist was seized by brute force.

His grip hurt.

She turned sharply and crashed into his deep, dark eyes.

Those eyes that always held restraint were now burning with wildfire.

“Let go.”

She struggled, but it was futile.

His strength held her firmly.

“Do you know what it means when you say those words? I know. But you want to kiss me, don’t you, Wen Qi? That means I’ve succeeded.”

At least he could move one step closer.

Even if it was nameless.

Wei Qingxuan stood in the shadows watching her, shoulders slightly slumped like a large dog abandoned by its owner.

“Wen Qi. There has to be me in your heart.”

Wen Qi lowered her gaze to the hand gripping her wrist, deliberately avoiding his face, though she could feel his burning stare forcing her to look up.

“Of course there is,” she smiled.

“After all, you’re the only one I want to kiss.”

His lashes trembled violently at that sentence.

He knew too well that her sweetness was honey wrapped around a hook.

That “of course” was light and ambiguous.

She had deceived him since childhood.

Yet his heart still felt struck, sourness mixed with hidden joy spreading through his veins.

He said nothing more.

Instead, he pulled her sharply into his arms.

Wen Qi stumbled forward, her nose knocking against his collarbone, eyes watering instantly.

Before she could rub it, the world spun.

Her back hit the cold wall.

And before she could speak, his lips sealed hers fiercely.

His kiss was clumsy yet urgent, cool with a mint-like freshness yet burning hot.

One hand locked behind her neck, forcing her head back.

The other circled her waist, crushing the space between them.

He opened his eyes, watching the disorder of her breathing as she responded.

The corner of his brow lifted in faint pleasure as his kiss slowed.

His thumb brushed the back of her neck.

She frowned slightly at the sudden change, instinctively leaning closer.

A faint smile bloomed in his eyes, laced with heavy possessiveness.

But her earlier calm acceptance of liking someone else flashed before him again.

His breathing grew heavy.

The quality of his kiss changed abruptly.

The careful probing vanished.

His teeth pressed suddenly harder.

Wen Qi gasped in pain and opened her eyes.

Anger.

Resentment.

Fierceness.

For the first time, she realized she understood him enough to read those emotions in a single glance.

But she couldn’t decipher what had triggered his loss of control.

Until he said, “Would you kiss him like this?”

She knew instantly who he meant.

“Maybe,” she lifted her chin deliberately, the sting on her lips adding a hint of careless provocation to her tone.

He almost hated her mouth for being half-truth and half-lie.

A few simple words pierced his nerves like needles.

Other times they were poison dipped in honey.

He should avoid them.

Yet he couldn’t resist.

He forced a calm breath and smiled.

“So when the time comes, will we have to compare whose kissing skills are better?”

“Probably not.”

His mood barely rose before it plunged again.

“I doubt anyone would bite on their first kiss like you. Your skills rank at the bottom.”

“…”

Wen Qi stepped aside and slipped from his embrace, leaving only the back of her head facing him.

“Wen Qi.”

“What?” she replied impatiently.

His voice lowered to something only the two of them could hear.

“Your lips are very soft.”

“…”

Wen Qi walked into her room without looking back and sat in the cool rattan chair.

She stared at his silhouette outside her window, waiting for the sting on her lips to fade.

If he wanted to stand there, he could stand there.

She focused on sorting her email.

The dubbing she had done for Xia Mo Orange had passed, and the version she fought for received unanimous praise.

Several production teams had even reached out to her.

Among the audition scripts she received, one role particularly interested her.

A character with dissociative identities born from childhood abuse.

In front of the brother who had saved her from suffering, though unrelated by blood, she appeared mostly as an innocent girl.

But before others, she was pathological.

The audition scene was of her pathological personality kissing her brother.

That kind of madness, entanglement, and intensity, even a slight misstep would ruin the tension.

Fortunately, she had time to prepare.

Leaning back in the rattan chair, Wen Qi slowly pondered how to express that emotion.

Her gaze drifted unconsciously to the word “kiss.”

Her fingertips brushed the corner of her lips, where faint teeth marks remained, along with his crisp scent.

Contradictions wandered across her mouth.

She muttered softly, “Mad dog.”