Hormones That Can't Be Hidden - Chapter 20

“Speaking of which… Fang Mingxuan hasn’t come to see you these last few days, has he?”

Liu Wei lay with his face to the side, his eyes squinting at Dong Junhao’s jawline which had instantly gone as stiff as a stone carving and the veins that suddenly bulged in his neck. A malicious arc curled with satisfaction at the corner of Liu’s mouth.

“It seems his true face was exposed in public that day, and he couldn’t handle the loss of face, so he’s hiding. I told you before: deep down, that man is selfish and arrogant toward his ‘partners’ if a one-night stand can even be called a partner, that is.”

“The freshness never lasts long. Once the heat recedes, he discards you like a pair of worn-out shoes.”

Dong Junhao’s throat tightened. He didn’t answer, but the rhythmic pressure he was exerting faltered for an imperceptible second, leaving a slightly heavy red mark on Liu Wei’s shoulder blade.

Liu Wei seemed oblivious, continuing to talk to himself in a light tone that carried a twisted, poison-soaked “empathy.” “You shouldn’t be too sad, really. It’s not just you; he’s like that with everyone. He and I… we were entangled for nearly a year, on and off. At the very beginning  he was so attentive he could drown you in pampering. Morning, noon, and night greetings were standard; gifts for every holiday and anniversary; sweet talk that flowed effortlessly from his mouth until your head was spinning and you really thought you were his whole world, his ‘exception’ and his ‘salvation’.”

He let out a short, mocking laugh filled with resentment, the sound particularly jarring amidst the swirling steam.

“And the result? Once the heat fades, his face changes instantly. No replies to messages, and dates are always ‘busy’ always some endless meeting or a client to see. Then comes the gradually lengthening silence, the inexplicable loss of contact, and finally, the full disappearing act. He blacklists you on social media, using cold violence to force you until you can’t take it and have to be the one to suggest a breakup… He’s used this routine on so many people; he’s mastered it so thoroughly it makes your heart turn to ice.”

Liu Wei’s voice dropped even lower, like a snake’s hiss, carrying the twisted “wisdom” of someone who had been burned repeatedly.

“Is he doing the same to you now? Feverishly passionate at the start, using every means possible to get close to you and create the illusion that ‘you are special’?”

“Then, after he gets what he wants, the temperature drops. He becomes distant, leaving you guessing what he’s thinking, your heart caught in your throat feeling wronged, yet unable to stop yourself from making excuses for him, constantly wondering if you did something wrong?”

Dong Junhao’s heart felt as though it had been seized by a cold iron hand and given a violent twist! His blood seemed to freeze instantly, a chill racing through his limbs.

The details Liu Wei described the sudden “appreciation” and high-paying offer, the frequent and undeniable appearances, the deliberate “candor” and “loneliness” confessed in the farmhouse, and… the sudden, complete “disappearance” after the morning confrontation… These fragments were being linked together by Liu Wei’s venomous words, piecing together a terrifying and calculated pattern.

“Do you know what the most hateful thing about him is?” Liu Wei’s voice was saturated with bitterness, nearly dripping with black poison. “It’s not that he’s fickle or cold-blooded there are plenty of people like that in this circle. It’s that he can always put on the most innocent, most helpless, most ‘looking out for you’ expression!”

“‘You’re overthinking it,’ ‘I’ve really been busy and under a lot of pressure lately,’ ‘We need to give each other space to cool down’… it’s all the same high-sounding bullshit! He’s the one who came after you first, the one who gave you hope and lifted you to the clouds, but in the end, he can shirk all responsibility until you feel like a hysterical, unreasonable, inconsiderate lunatic! He makes it so you can’t even hate him properly; you’re too busy wondering if you really weren’t good enough!”

“Oh, by the way,” Liu Wei seemed to suddenly recall a perfect piece of evidence. His tone became sharper and more biting, every word a knife trying to dissect Dong Junhao’s last mental defenses.

“Did he talk to you about how he lived in the countryside with his grandparents as a kid? Did he look nostalgic and tell you how much he longs for that ‘simple,’ ‘honest,’ and ‘human’ life?”

“Did he complain with a heavy heart about how the people around him are ‘hypocritical’ and ‘calculating,’ making him exhausted, and how you are so ‘different,’ making him feel ‘relaxed’ and ‘real’?”

Dong Junhao’s movements froze completely.

The hand holding the scrubbing mitt hung in mid-air. His breathing suddenly became heavy and hot, his chest heaving violently. Those were the exact “confidences” Fang Mingxuan had shared with him under the moonlight at the farmhouse, with that slight drunken haze and those deep eyes that seemed to see into his soul!

Hearing them repeated now by Liu Wei in such a mocking, certain tone was like a series of loud slaps to his face.

Seeing Dong Junhao’s violent, silent reaction, the smile on Liu Wei’s face abruptly widened. It was a smile of triumphant revenge and a cruel, “I told you so” pride.

“That script! He’s said it to at least three people I’ve personally seen and heard! Including me!”

Liu Wei’s voice rose slightly from the excitement and twisted pleasure, only for him to quickly suppress it back into a hiss, making it even more piercing.

“The nostalgia for the countryside, the hatred for high-society hypocrisy, the search for ‘truth’ and ‘simplicity’ in life… it’s all fucking calculated lies! It’s the standardized script he uses a player raised in the vanity fair, a master of manipulating hearts to quickly break through defenses and make you think he’s ‘sincere’ and ‘unique’!”

“It’s the cheap screenplay he uses whenever he’s ‘hunting’ for what he considers ‘fresh,’ ‘interesting,’ or ‘wild game’!”

His gaze, like poisoned nails, was fixed on Dong Junhao’s face which had drained of color until it was as white as paper. The hatred in his voice and a near-suicidal cruelty were overflowing:

“In his high-and-mighty eyes, what are we? We’re just ‘wild game’ he occasionally wants to taste in his exquisite, luxurious, polished life! Once he’s played enough, once the taste is stale and his curiosity is satisfied, he’ll toss you aside like an out-of-fashion toy without a second look! And then, those eyes of his that are ‘searching for truth’ will start looking for the next target that makes him feel ‘fresh’ and ‘different’!”

Liu Wei snapped his head around, leaning his face nearly against Dong Junhao’s stiff arm. Every word sounded like it was being ground from between his teeth, carrying the scent of blood and a bone-deep chill:

“You think he really likes you? Likes this body you’ve built through years of manual labor? Or likes your ‘skills’ that are nothing more than scrubbing dirt with raw force?”

“Or he likes your ‘simplicity’ the way you smell of the earth and can’t tell red wine from steak?”

“Dong Junhao, wake up! Stop flattering yourself!”

“He was just bored and looking for a fresh thrill! Once he’s tired of touching your muscles, once he’s bored of your silent ‘honesty,’ once your ‘bottom-tier’ origins make him feel cheap…”

“You’ll become just like me. No, you’ll be even worse than me! Because of my business connections, he’ll at least maintain a polite acquaintance with me after a breakup. But you? You probably won’t even count as an ‘ex.’ You’re just a short-lived, somewhat ‘heavy-flavor’ pastime he can’t even tell his friends about!”

“The people who can actually stay by his side, who can stand next to him, are those with matching family backgrounds, dazzling degrees, and brilliant conversational skills people who can actually help his career and who live in his world! You? Heh…”

Liu Wei let out a laugh of utter contempt, drawing a cruel period to this execution.

These final words were like a red-hot, venom-dipped blunt knife, slowly and cruelly stabbing into the depths of Dong Junhao’s heart and twisting without mercy. A crimson-black fog swirled before his eyes, and a sharp ringing drowned out all other sound.

He couldn’t hear whatever Liu Wei continued to mutter. In his chest, the anger of being made a fool, the shame of being looked down upon, the disgust of being evaluated like an object, and a deeper, soul-crushing despair like boiling lava meeting eternal ice exploded into a heart-wrenching pain.

He wanted to throw down that filthy scrubbing mitt right now! He wanted to turn and run out of this suffocating steam cage! He wanted to be as far as possible from the demon behind him who spewed poison!

And more than anything, he wanted to surgically excise that version of Fang Mingxuan so loathsome and hypocritical from his memory! To draw a line! To never see him again!

By what right?!

By what right after he had finally managed to stand on his own in a corner of this city, earning a living with his own raw strength did a man named Fang Mingxuan have to barge into his life so arrogantly and shatter the peace he had fought so hard to maintain? They were mere acquaintances; he had never even promised anything. By what right was he dragged into these filthy emotional entanglements to endure these malicious speculations and wanton slanders?

By what right was his sincerity, his strength, and his very being placed on such a scale to be so lightly weighed and trampled upon?!

However, his body remained locked in place by invisible iron chains. A pathetic remnant of professional ethics or perhaps the deep-seated stubbornness of someone who refused to lose completely in the face of humiliation forced him to continue the mechanical, heavy scrubbing movements by muscle memory.

Only this time, the white skin beneath his palm felt like red-hot iron or a thornbush of poison; every contact brought a sharp, burning sting. He didn’t know if the pain was being inflicted on the other man or if it was all reflecting back onto his own already tattered heart.

He kept his head down, sweat pouring from his brow like a flood, splashing onto the mirror-like table in small, desperate droplets. Beneath his bronze skin, every muscle was tensed to the limit, like a bowstring pulled until it was ready to snap. His teeth ground together with a clicking sound, and a heavy scent of blood filled his mouth.

The Fang Mingxuan described by Liu Wei hypocritical, cold, calculating, a playboy who viewed the sincerity of others as toys and curiosities and the man in his memory who clumsily picked tomatoes in a greenhouse, who smiled like a satisfied child over a home-cooked meal, and who showed a side of fatigue and loneliness in a drunken haze…

The two contradictory images clashed and tore at his mind, trying to overlap yet failing completely, shredding his perception to pieces.

Which one is the real Fang Mingxuan?

The impulse to scream his identity, draw a line, and flee everything was like an injured beast trapped in an iron cage madly lunging and crashing against the bars of reason, letting out a silent roar that could find no exit.