We Are Filthy, Born From Mud - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Yes, They Are Fragile.

Zong Yougu was in a good mood, humming a song all the way.

She rolled the car window down slightly, and the incoming wind blew both her hair and her singing onto Zong Liangu’s face.

Next to Zong Yougu was Zong Liangu, eyes closed and brows tightly furrowed.

“Are you happy?” Zong Liangu asked.

Zong Yougu continued humming, joyfully replying, “Why wouldn’t I be? Didn’t you see how good my performance was?”

“You’re giving me a headache,” Zong Liangu rubbed her forehead, looking at Zong Yougu with ill-will.

Zong Yougu saw the other person’s gloomy look, but how could that interrupt her good mood?

She knew it. She wasn’t going to be the clown. She was meant to shine, and she deserved everything.

Hu Yinghua’s car stopped at the entrance of the old neighborhood.

Zong Yougu and Zong Liangu both got out of the car.

Just as they started walking forward, Hu Yinghua called out to them.

“Sister Yougu… um… why is she going up with you?” she asked.

Zong Liangu rubbed her temples, slightly impatient: “I’m her life assistant. Isn’t it normal to act as a nanny?”

Hu Yinghua’s expression was complicated. She pursed her lips, seemingly hesitant.

But eventually, she spoke: “Sister Yougu, you should be more discreet.”

Zong Yougu was confused by the seemingly random comment.

Hu Yinghua continued: “Sister Yougu, you two are dating, right? Ah, I don’t mean to interfere. It’s completely normal for an actress to date an ordinary person. But Sister Yougu, you should be more discreet. First… you just broke up with Miss Qinghe not long ago. What if she finds out and mistakenly thinks you moved on immediately or even cheated? That wouldn’t be good. Second… it’s also not good if your fans find out, although you don’t have many fans…”

After speaking, Hu Yinghua felt she had said too much. She awkwardly picked at her fingers.

“Are you saying we’re… dating?” Zong Liangu’s flat tone carried a subtle hint of disbelief.

Zong Yougu, however, immediately hooked her arm around Zong Liangu’s neck and openly told Hu Yinghua, “I know. We’ll be more discreet.”

Hu Yinghua finally sighed in relief and drove away.

Zong Yougu skipped forward, her index finger hooked around Zong Liangu’s hand, pulling Zong Liangu along.

Zong Liangu suddenly stopped still, gripping Zong Yougu’s wrist tightly, making it impossible for Zong Yougu to move forward for a moment.

“Why did you say that?” Zong Liangu asked.

Zong Yougu turned around and saw Zong Liangu’s bright eyes under the wide hood.

She smiled and said, “Because I really like you.”

She tried to pull her hand free, but Zong Liangu held on tightly. She moved twice but couldn’t break free.

So she leaned into it, embracing Zong Liangu’s entire arm and resting her head on Zong Liangu’s shoulder.

Zong Liangu’s skin was hot. Zong Yougu pressed her cheek against the other person’s neck, carefully sensing her temperature.

“Even if you say that, I won’t go easy on you,” Zong Liangu said, her voice low. “I will make my move as soon as we get upstairs.”

Zong Yougu still held Zong Liangu’s arm, lifting the mask slightly to create a gap.

“I still really like you. You’re as good-looking as me, as excellent as me, and as kind as me. I have no reason not to like you.”

Zong Yougu played a prank, blowing a breath into the gap in the mask. Zong Liangu’s eyelids unconsciously fluttered.

“Your skin is so hot, and your face is so red.” Zong Yougu grinned wickedly, lightly pushing Zong Liangu.

Zong Liangu shook Zong Yougu off and walked forward slightly unsteadily.

The straight back moved further and further away from Zong Yougu, then turned a corner and vanished from Zong Yougu’s sight.

Only then did Zong Yougu walk forward.

“Little Zong, back already?” The security guard greeted her.

Zong Yougu’s eyes curved in a smile. She said, “Hello, Grandma Zhang. I just got back from work.”

“Good to work, good to work.”

“Grandma, I’m exhausted. How about I become the security guard for the security guard?” Zong Yougu squeezed out a sweet voice.

Grandma Zhang laughed heartily. She patted Zong Yougu from a distance: “Alright, you go home and rest.”

Zong Yougu acknowledged her and continued humming a little tune and skipping.

Nothing could interrupt her good mood now. She felt everything looked pleasing, and she was so perfect.

She counted on her fingers and calculated that she wasn’t far from a life like today’s. She wouldn’t be trapped forever.

What did her past misdeeds have to do with her present self?

By then, she would fully radiate her brilliance, and she would tread on everyone.

Oh, except Zong Liangu.

A beautiful future: she would achieve both fame and fortune, living with Zong Liangu in a luxurious coastal villa, indulging freely, squandering time, and squandering money.

Zong Yougu couldn’t help but laugh out loud, as if she were already living that life.

Thinking this, she pulled open the apartment building door. The long-broken lock was useless. She entered the building with ease, despite not having a key.

The cement-grey stairs felt cold. The winding stairwell was several degrees cooler than outside.

Zong Yougu took the steps two at a time, quickly climbing the stairs.

Soon, she reached her door. Walking too fast made her vision briefly darken.

She bit the soft flesh inside her mouth with her sharp teeth. She absolutely had to move sometime. This place was too dilapidated; it didn’t suit her at all.

A brand-new digital lock was installed on the slightly yellowed door, looking rather out of place.

She reached out and skillfully entered the password. Click, and the door opened.

Zong Yougu stepped inside.

The moment she turned to close the door, her peripheral vision caught a flash of steel.

The flickering light from the energy-saving lamp reflected off the knife’s blade. Zong Yougu quickly took a step back. The tip of the knife stopped precisely at her nose.

She turned around and saw Zong Liangu holding the knife.

Zong Liangu wasn’t gripping the utility knife she usually kept in her pocket, but the kitchen knife they used to prepare chicken that day.

Her hand trembled irregularly, and the sharpened blade shook in front of Zong Yougu’s eyes.

“Why are you shaking? Are you reluctant to hurt me?” Zong Yougu laughed.

Zong Liangu glared at her, bright red blood vessels clinging to the corners of her eyes.

“Are you crying? No way?” Zong Yougu was slightly confused.

“Do you know? There’s no difference between a human and a pig,” Zong Liangu’s voice was very soft, making Zong Yougu unsure if she was talking to her or to Zong Liangu herself.

“Before death, they both let out the same pathetic roar, and the same plea appears in their eyes. There’s not much difference in their organs after evisceration. They’re equally disgusting.” Zong Liangu’s voice was still very low, giving Zong Yougu goosebumps.

“So, please don’t be like this, okay? After all, we look the same. I don’t want to feel like I’m no different from a pig.” Zong Liangu finally looked up, her eyes slightly narrowed, locking onto Zong Yougu.

Zong Liangu raised the hand holding the kitchen knife high and quickly brought it down.

Zong Yougu pushed hard against the wall, quickly propelling herself to the opposite side. She successfully distanced herself from Zong Liangu, deftly avoiding the fatal blow.

The kitchen knife struck the small storage cabinet by the door, the blade sinking into the slightly open wooden cabinet door.

Zong Liangu pulled the knife out, and tiny wood shavings danced in the light.

“Why did you dodge?” Zong Liangu muttered, seemingly genuinely confused.

“Why couldn’t I hit you?” Zong Liangu’s tone now carried a hint of frustration.

The pale light made her look somewhat lost.

Zong Yougu finally noticed Zong Liangu’s anomaly. Taking advantage of Zong Liangu’s distraction, she tripped her with a kick and wrestled the kitchen knife away.

She lay on top of Zong Liangu, feeling Zong Liangu’s burning body temperature and the irregularly twitching muscles in her forearm.

“If you move again, I’ll kill you first,” Zong Yougu said.

Zong Liangu smiled, her eyes sparkling. She asked, “Really?”

“Really.”

“Alright.” Zong Liangu completely relaxed.

Zong Yougu lowered her head. Their foreheads pressed tightly together.

“You have a fever,” Zong Yougu said, her tone slightly disappointed.

She thought Zong Liangu was just shy.

It turned out she was sick. She was bored.

“A fever?”

“Mhm.”

A momentary blankness appeared on Zong Liangu’s face. She pushed Zong Yougu away and asked, “Oh, am I going to die?”

“Maybe. Serves you right for being so malicious,” Zong Yougu said.

“Fine then.” Zong Liangu climbed up from the floor herself. She wobbled to the wardrobe door and shut herself inside.

Zong Yougu was a little angry. She yanked the wardrobe open.

“Are you trying to die? What if my clothes get contaminated with sickness?”

Zong Liangu seemed very sleepy. She struggled to open her eyes: “But you just said you liked me. And you said I am you, so you wouldn’t despise yourself. Therefore, you can’t despise me.”

“Come out,” Zong Yougu said.

Zong Liangu didn’t reply. This time, she was truly asleep.

Due to years of training, although Zong Liangu looked similar to Zong Yougu, her body was all tight muscle, making her weigh significantly more than Zong Yougu herself.

Zong Yougu struggled to drag Zong Liangu onto the bed, burying Zong Liangu completely under the blanket.

Zong Yougu had never cared for anyone, and she rarely got sick herself, and even when she did, she mysteriously got better.

Therefore, she lacked basic health knowledge.

But she had heard that sweating profusely would drive the sickness out.

So she took the thick winter blanket from the cupboard, wobbled to the bedroom with the bundle of blankets, and covered Zong Liangu with the extra blanket.

That should definitely be enough.

She stood up with a sense of accomplishment, but her wrist was grasped.

Zong Liangu poked her head out. She asked, “Am I going to die?”

“How could that be?”

“I can’t breathe.”

Zong Yougu pouted, slightly exasperated: “It’s the blanket pressing on you. You’ll be fine after you sweat it out.”

“Alright.” Zong Liangu burrowed back under the covers.

At first, Zong Liangu kept tossing and turning, twisting the blanket, forcing Zong Yougu to constantly watch her.

Gradually, the room quieted down, leaving only Zong Yougu’s breathing.

Zong Yougu quietly leaned over and gently lifted a corner of the blanket. Zong Liangu’s face was revealed.

Sweat-dampened stray hairs clung to her face, which was slightly flushed from being covered.

She was still frowning even in her sleep. Zong Yougu smiled.

Zong Liangu was quiet, and Zong Yougu got energized.

She looked in the mirror for a while, then ran to Zong Liangu’s bedside again, reaching out to pinch Zong Liangu’s cheek.

Later, she simply brought a dressing mirror into the bedroom.

She placed the mirror by Zong Liangu’s pillow. Two identical faces appeared before her.

Except Zong Liangu showed an undisguised fragility due to her illness.

Her fingertip lightly touched Zong Liangu’s eyelashes. Zong Liangu’s eyelid fluttered.

She then retrieved the backup phone from under the bed.

As soon as it was turned on, message notifications poured in like a rising tide.

There was only one sender: Zhang Yinyang.

Zong Yougu put the phone back and sat down by the bed again.

She looked at the two faces and sighed involuntarily.

Yes, we are both fragile.

The person who thought herself strong and robust was now sick.

The person who wanted to embrace a beautiful life—her entire current existence was precarious.