Falling After Marriage - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: What Do I Have to Do for You to Be Mine?

The elegantly decorated yet confined lounge was like a delicate cage, confining Cheng Sangluo’s body and imprisoning Lin Jin’s heart.

Cheng Sangluo couldn’t stop coughing, accompanied by several miserable dry heaves.

She wiped the wine from the corner of her lips with the back of her hand, collapsing weakly onto the sofa. Her loose, long hair covered half of her cheek, leaving the visible eye dull and broken.

Her shoulders twitched as she let out an unrestrained, self-mocking laugh. The sound was painfully squeezed from her throat—hoarse, deep, and hurting.

Despite all this, she still refused to speak.

Lin Jin pushed the hair from her forehead back, looking down at the person beneath her with arrogance. The anger that had just subsided was re-ignited by the laughter.

She gripped Cheng Sangluo’s collar with both hands, slamming her heavily against the backrest of the sofa, and furiously whispered: “How can you be so stubborn, how can you be so stubborn…”

In this moment, Lin Jin was also falling apart.

Cheng Sangluo was like a tattered doll—she didn’t show weakness or fight back. She simply stared straight at the crazy woman who was losing control of her mind.

The emotional breakdown caused by the silent torment was immensely satisfying to her.

Lin Jin’s body began to shake more violently, either from anger or illness.

The crystal chandelier reflected her constantly swaying figure, casting dark, mottled shadows on her face.

The hand gripping her neck suddenly released its strength. She tilted her head, gazing intently at the bulging blue veins on the back of her own hand, as if observing a foreign creature.

One second she looked like she wanted to kill, the next her pale face showed terrified regret.

Cheng Sangluo was like sand Lin Jin tried every means to grasp. Clenched too tightly, she would slip away; opened too wide, she would scatter. Lin Jin was always at a loss.

Lin Jin’s emotions were fragmented. Her lips moved as she mumbled deliriously, “Did I hurt you… I didn’t want to… I just… I just wanted to…”

I just wanted to possess you. Was that wrong?

She was panicked, her eyes filled with distress. She covered Cheng Sangluo’s face with her hands, frantically wiping away the wine stains, as if this could erase her prior barbaric behavior.

Lin Jin buried her arrogance in the dust, pleading softly: “Be good, okay… listen to me, okay… you…”

Her voice trailed off. The scorching heat hitting her palm felt like it could burn everything.

Her fingertips trembled, her lips trembled, and even her demanding tone was shaking: “How are you so hot?”

‘You’re so hot…’ ‘It means I have good metabolism.’

Remembering their teasing conversation at the restaurant earlier, Lin Jin leaned in and tightly embraced Cheng Sangluo’s head, anxiously asking: “You’ve been running a fever? Why didn’t you tell me!”

Cheng Sangluo closed her eyes wearily, her brows furrowing intensely. While suppressing the weakness caused by the fever, a wave of unsettling discomfort surged in her heart.

The moment she closed her eyes, her mind was filled with the image of Lin Jin’s alternating madness and vulnerability—pitiable and somewhat sorrowful.

Cheng Sangluo finally realized that Lin Jin’s ‘crazy’ was an illness, an uncontrollable disease.

She didn’t push away the person embracing her. Instead, she stroked the slender, trembling back and asked in a hoarse voice: “Lin Jin, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine…” Lin Jin hunched her back, burying her head deep into Cheng Sangluo’s neck: “I’m fine… I’m fine…”

She inhaled the clean, calming scent of the puppy, finally recovering some peace, though she kept repeating the same phrase, as if this could convince herself that she truly wasn’t sick.

Cheng Sangluo was distracted. The searing breath at her neck was gradually replaced by a moist itch.

Lin Jin’s lips and teeth ground together, transitioning from obsessive licking to a resentful biting.

Her nails dug into Cheng Sangluo’s neck again, uncontrollably drawing bloody red lines on her skin: “What do I have to do… for you to be mine…”

Cheng Sangluo’s gaze was scattered. The pleasurable itch from the kissing, accompanied by the stinging from the scratches, was dismantling the high wall built in her heart.

Fortunately, it was only a moment of yielding.

Before falling into Lin Jin’s tender trap, she grabbed onto the last shred of sanity, reaching out to grip the fair, slender neck. With a fluid roll, she pinned the limp woman beneath her.

Cheng Sangluo desperately controlled herself not to inflict harm, roaring: “Crazy woman, have you had enough? Can you snap out of it!”

Her emotions were on the brink of despair. Why did that anger, disgust, and resistance disappear so easily? Why was she always unable to be cruel to the crazy woman’s malice? Why was she always quick to forgive?

Lin Jin rested her head contentedly. The hand clamped on her neck wasn’t gripping hard; she didn’t feel any pain at all.

To her, this was the puppy’s unique tenderness—the tenderness of being afraid to hurt her.

She finally seemed restored to normal, her eyes narrowed as she teased: “Puppy, coax me. I’m really easy to coax…”

“Shameless! Pervert!” Cheng Sangluo cursed under her breath, thinking that any softness she showed the crazy woman was like feeding it to a dog.

It’s not worth it, not worth it at all!

Muttering angrily, she stood up, wanting to escape this suffocating place quickly. But as soon as she took a step, she staggered and fell back.

Her body, which had held out for an entire day, finally collapsed under the illness at this crucial moment.

Lin Jin caught her just in time, rubbing her own cheek against Cheng Sangluo’s burning ear: “Be good. We’ll go see a doctor, okay?”

‘Creak—’

Just as their bodies were intertwined, someone pushed open the lounge door, shattering the illusion of intimacy.

Cheng Sangluo struggled and fled with all her limbs the moment the door opened, leaving behind everything that caused such lingering fear.

Lin Jin’s embrace was empty. She missed the puppy’s warmth mere seconds after they separated.

She glared at the disruptive person at the door, her eyes conveying the intense irritation of having her fun spoiled, cold as an ice pick wanting to pierce them through.

Midnight.

The Maybach sped along the winding mountain road, heading towards one of Lin Jin’s private residences.

The villa, nestled deep in the lush woods halfway up the mountain, was like a cat’s eye hidden in the darkness, glowing with a somber light in the dead of night.

Lin Jin stumbled drunkenly into the house. Sheng He, who followed her, tried to help, but was coldly stopped: “Don’t touch me! I’m not drunk…”

Sheng He reluctantly withdrew his arm, hesitating: “Boss, I think I should notify the people at the Lin residence to come and look after you. You don’t visit this villa often. I’m worried about you being here alone…”

“What, are you afraid Lin Sheng will attack me?” Lin Jin panted, leaning against the marble pillar as she scoffed: “Does he dare?”

“The old man has been unwell lately. It’s best to be cautious during this sensitive time.” Sheng He patiently advised, knowing he couldn’t convince Lin Jin, and insisted: “I will stay in the car tonight. Call me if anything happens.”

Lin Jin was always indifferent to her subordinates. She shrugged carelessly: “Suit yourself.”

The moonlight was dense in the dark night, permeated with loneliness.

The empty villa was colder than the outside. A place lacking human presence always carried a chill.

Lin Jin slumped weakly onto the sofa, rubbing her temples to clear her head.

Perhaps because the house was desolate, or because Cheng Sangluo’s warmth was gone, she curled up, hugging herself tightly.

Closing her eyes, the puppy’s feverish face filled her mind. The longing for that person, once unleashed, surged like a flood, impossible to contain.

Lin Jin sighed wistfully. She was so skilled at controlling every situation, at maneuvering every piece in the game of power balance, yet she alone could not control Cheng Sangluo, let alone her heart.

All she wanted was closeness, but every time she pushed the puppy further away. If only she had been more patient, more gentle with her.

Lin Jin half-closed her eyes, searching through her handbag until she clutched the faded T-shirt to her chest, feeling slightly relieved.

She lifted the T-shirt to her nose, savoring the scent. The smell morphed into the desire to be fiercely claimed by Cheng Sangluo, like tentacled ambition clawing all over her nerves.

She stood up, her steps swaying slightly with the alcohol, and walked into the home elevator.

The room in the furthest corner of the top floor of the villa was mysterious. Its three-layered, security-reinforced, bulletproof door seemed to hide all the owner’s secrets.

Lin Jin stood before the door, patiently unlocking it. After a tedious set of verifications—fingerprint, iris, facial recognition, and password—the heavy steel door slowly opened.

The number of antique pieces and art collectibles displayed inside was staggering, all rare items bought at high prices at auctions over the years.

They seemed to showcase the owner’s formidable background but were actually meant to conceal a deeper secret.

Lin Jin walked straight to the innermost wall.

The hidden door was seamlessly integrated with the wall, so concealed that no one could detect a flaw. Only by turning a dagger, disguised as a collectible on a nearby display shelf, would the door spring open a crack.

This was the purpose of her special visit to the villa tonight. The secret room held the truth that dispelled her loneliness, the most authentic manifestation of the furiously growing seed in her heart.

The most conspicuous item in the secret room was a standing rack. A military uniform hung there, pressed without a single wrinkle. Even the military boots placed below were encased in dust-proof boxes.

The objects spread out to the left and right of the rack were numerous: a complete set of camouflage training uniforms, brightly polished military medals, and some heavily worn personal items.

It looked like a small private exhibition, with every detail narrating the owner’s past.

Facing the rack was a lounge chair for resting.

Lin Jin lay down with her body full of exhaustion. This small corner was a lifesaver, capable of soothing all her anxiety and delusions.

She looked peaceful clutching the T-shirt, her nostrils filled with the comforting scent.

Gazing at the solemn military uniform, her eyes, reddened by alcohol, were glistening.

Her teeth gently bit at a corner of the fabric.

Her curled, fair fingers, amidst the undercurrent of her secret fantasy, plucked at a sticky, sensuous pleasure.

In her memory, that person looked dignified and proper in her military uniform, marching with determined steps, walking over her heart.

Her brow furrowed tighter and tighter with each passing wave of surging emotion.

Her slender back trembled subtly.

A soft moan escaped her tightly clenched lips.

“Goodnight, Sangluo.”

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