We Are Filthy, Born From Mud - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Yes, She is Detestable.

#GetMeAllHerInformationInOneMinute

In the early hours of a morning one week later, this search term quietly appeared at the bottom of the trending list.

Clicking on it revealed a candid, behind-the-scenes shot of Zong Liangu.

This photo stood out from the crowd and garnered many shares.

In the picture, her clothes billowed, and the silhouette of her strong, toned muscles was faintly visible beneath the flying fabric.

Her hair danced in the wind. She was illuminated by the sun, her eyes reflecting a sharp glint on her dusty face.

Fugitive, desperate struggle, madness, flamboyance.

Zong Liangu herself didn’t have much of a reaction to this; it was within her expectations. She calmly browsed every comment. However, she felt her luck was truly good—the perfect wind that day, the spot-on candid shot—everything was so flawless.

Zong Yougu, conversely, was jumping up and down with excitement.

“Oh my god! How did they capture me looking so beautiful in this photo? Hurry and save it! Remember to switch to a burner account and ask for the original image. Direct downloads compress the quality, and it won’t look as good.”

Zong Yougu leaned over Zong Liangu’s shoulder and clamored. Seeing no reaction from Zong Liangu, she leaned closer, blowing warm air into the other’s ear.

“It’s too much trouble. You do it yourself.”

The phone was tossed to Zong Yougu. Zong Yougu’s head remained in place. She wrapped her arms around Zong Liangu’s neck and fiddled with the phone.

Zong Liangu pushed the other’s head away, but when it didn’t move, she let her be.

She didn’t understand why Zong Yougu liked sticking to her so much.

Logically, Zong Liangu suddenly barged into her life and threatened her. Zong Yougu should be afraid and disgusted. So why was she like this?

What puzzled her more was why she didn’t have a physiological aversion to Zong Yougu’s touch. Perhaps the identical appearance subconsciously lowered her guard, or perhaps Zong Yougu posed absolutely no threat to her.

“See? I am so perfect.”

Zong Yougu successfully requested the original image. She opened the photo in her album proudly, holding the phone close to Zong Liangu’s eyes.

Zong Liangu pushed her hand down. She said with slight exasperation, “There has to be a limit to shamelessness, alright? How is this a picture of you? This is clearly me.”

“There you go again, there you go again! How many times do I have to say it? You are me, and I am—” Her words were cut off by Zong Liangu’s cold gaze.

Zong Liangu squeezed Zong Yougu’s wrist hard. Her knuckles turned slightly white from the exertion, and her arm trembled slightly. She felt Zong Yougu struggling but still didn’t let go.

With a slight exertion of her upper arm, her forearm was brought into motion, and Zong Yougu was flung away.

She looked down at Zong Yougu sprawled on the bed with a hint of distaste, looking down and making no attempt to hide the scorn in her eyes.

She never believed they were the same person.

They just happened to look alike. She wouldn’t be as lazy, slack, or hopelessly useless as the other person.

Zong Liangu bent down, and the phone returned to her hand.

It was the dead of night, and outside was silent darkness.

She put on her jacket and pulled out a mask from her pocket to wear.

Although life was much more comfortable now than in her past life, she still maintained her exercise routine.

She habitually relied on herself. The slight soreness from lactic acid buildup after exercise gave her a sense of security.

“You’re going out now?” Zong Yougu pointed at the pitch-black window, sounding slightly surprised.

Zong Liangu nodded, her movements never stopping.

Unexpectedly, the other person burst into laughter. Zong Yougu pointed at her and said, “You come out at night and hide during the day—a helpful friend to humans. You’re a rat.”

Zong Liangu slapped her finger away. She closed the door and locked the bedroom door from the outside.

Whether it was her imagination or not, she thought she saw a flicker of coldness in Zong Yougu’s eyes through the narrowing gap of the door.

Zong Yougu watched the door close, but felt no fear in her heart.

A full-length mirror was embedded in the bedroom wardrobe. The gleaming surface allowed Zong Yougu to see herself clearly.

She had a tall, straight posture and a long, slender physique. Her dark, glossy hair lay smoothly on her shoulders.

She stood calmly in front of the mirror, her face expressionless.

She tensed her forearm slightly, and the muscle tight against the bone was faintly visible.

She reached out involuntarily, and the cool touch of the mirror surface met her fingertip. She snapped out of her daze, but her finger remained on the mirror.

She gave a self-mocking smile, then bent down and lay on the floor. After fumbling around under the bed, she finally found a small box.

It was a rusty mooncake tin. The paint on the edges had completely flaked off, revealing reddish-brown rust.

She opened the lid, and inside was an old mobile phone.

Having a backup phone is perfectly normal, isn’t it? Zong Liangu is too arrogant, and ultimately, she’s a bit stupid.

Zong Yougu smiled happily.

Yes, she did like Zong Liangu very much. She wished Zong Liangu was in front of her all the time and wished she could cling to Zong Liangu constantly.

However, this affection was only because she liked herself.

But what if she didn’t even love herself sometimes? Wasn’t it perfectly normal for her to be wary of Zong Liangu?

Moreover, Zong Liangu had been trying desperately to sever Zong Yougu’s connection with the outside world these past two days.

Zong Liangu didn’t bring her to yesterday’s shoot, and Zong Yougu rarely had the phone in her hands.

Zong Yougu sneered.

Zong Liangu also had many flaws, such as… being overly arrogant.

She thought Zong Liangu was quite easy to understand. As long as she closed her eyes and imagined herself in the other person’s position, she could generally predict Zong Liangu’s actions.

Zong Yougu charged the phone, and the screen lit up shortly after.

Her eyes lit up.

Browsing the social media platform as a visitor, she raised her eyebrows in surprise.

The discussion about that photo was much higher than she had expected. Was this a good thing? Zong Yougu frowned, thinking carefully.

The company’s current focus was on Su Tongguo, and they didn’t care much about Zong Yougu. High popularity means high exposure, but how much protection would the company be willing to offer her?

Besides, she wasn’t clean to begin with.

Zong Liangu’s appearance was too awkward. She hadn’t had time to completely clean up her past.

Thump, thump, thump—

The front door was knocked on.

There was clearly a doorbell on the door, but only that person would knock so roughly and violently.

Zong Yougu smiled disdainfully. After all these years, she was still so uncouth.

She casually grabbed a piece of white paper nearby and skillfully wedged it into the door crack. Then she took a hairpin from her head, and the bedroom door was unlocked in no time.

Thump, thump, thump—

The person outside was still violently knocking on the front door.

Zong Yougu checked the time. It was 2:45 AM. Zong Liangu usually returned when it was light.

There was plenty of time for a reunion.

So, she smiled and opened the door.

The door swung open. The person outside looked haggard, with deep dark circles under eyes that were burning with intense anger.

She pushed Zong Yougu aside recklessly, skillfully pulled out a chair, and sat down, her gaze locked on Zong Yougu.

“Zhang Yinyang,” Zong Yougu said, breaking the silence.

Zhang Yinyang sneered. She shoved her phone close to Zong Yougu’s face, almost hitting Zong Yougu’s nose.

The screen displayed the candid photo that had gone slightly viral.

Zong Yougu frowned slightly, looking somewhat confused. She smiled and greeted her: “Old friend, is there a problem with this? This photo captured me beautifully, didn’t it? Aren’t you proud of my achievements today—”

The veins on Zhang Yinyang’s forehead bulged. She pushed Zong Yougu against the wall like a madwoman. Her voice was low: “How do you deserve this? How can you speak like that?”

She brought the phone closer to Zong Yougu’s face again and asked, “Look, all the comments below are praising you. They have no idea what kind of person you are. You’re so disgusting, so heartless, cowardly, petty, and sickeningly hypocritical.”

After speaking, she stumbled back two steps, pointing a trembling finger at Zong Yougu.

Zong Yougu’s breathing became difficult, and her vision blurred, but she still spoke lightly: “What can be done? I’m living very well now. Unlike you people—one is dead, and the other works herself to death every day yet can barely make ends meet.”

Zong Yougu’s words clearly enraged Zhang Yinyang again. The cup on the table was thrown straight at Zong Yougu, but due to her agitation, she missed the mark, and the cup landed at Zong Yougu’s feet.

“Do you know how expensive that cup is? You’ll have to pay if you break it,” Zong Yougu crouched down, her expression showing a hint of distress. She looked at the somewhat helpless Zhang Yinyang, then smiled and continued, “Just kidding, it’s a fake. It’s worthless.”

Zong Yougu turned around and retrieved a brown paper bag from under the bed. She placed it in front of Zhang Yinyang. She swallowed hard before leveling her tone: “This is the money for this period. Prices went up, so I added an extra ten thousand.”

Zhang Yinyang opened the paper bag. She carefully counted the money. After confirming the amount, she looked up at Zong Yougu: “Don’t expect me to be grateful to you. Remember, this is what you owe. Because of you, so many of us rotted in the mud. You deserve to be blackmailed by me for the rest of your life. You deserve to live in fear all the time.”

“Mhm, I deserve it,” Zong Yougu smiled.

Zhang Yinyang then stood up. She sneered: “Are you living in this small, broken house to atone for your sins? Or are you just putting on a show for me?”

“I simply don’t have the money,” Zong Yougu still smiled. “I also have to subsidize you. Where would I get the money to move?”

This time, Zhang Yinyang wasn’t provoked by Zong Yougu. She limped toward the front door.

Before leaving, she turned back and left one last sentence:

“Zong Liangu, you are the one who truly deserves to rot in the mud.”

A blankness appeared before Zong Yougu’s eyes. The smile she had maintained finally shattered.

Her bag, the water cup, and everything she could grab nearby were furiously hurled at the front door.

She looked at the devastation on the floor. She had no choice but to squat down, restoring everything with trembling hands.

Outside, a few cooing birds sounded. Dawn was approaching.

Zong Yougu walked back into the bedroom. She carefully locked the door with the hairpin.

Everything returned to normal, as if nothing had happened.

She stood in front of the mirror, her eyes red and swollen, and tear tracks streaked across her cheeks.

Slap!

She hit herself hard across the face.

The intense pain numbed her cheek, but her mind became incredibly clear.

She was Zong Yougu. Everything in the past had nothing to do with her.

That’s right.