Chapter 139: Chapter 133: A Little Surprise Feast, Long Time No See Chapter 139: Chapter 133: A Little Surprise Feast, Long Time No See Lu Jingyan’s beer he was swallowing got stuck in his throat.

“Also,” Sheng Xian tidy her slightly messy clothes, pinching the button she had pulled off, and continued leisurely, “that beer you’re drinking is mine.”

Lu Jingyan, biting the can’s mouth, stared blankly at Sheng Xian.

Sheng Xian’s gaze fell to her lips, his eyes noticeably darkening, “The spot you’re biting, I just bit there too.”

“…Cough.”

Lu Jingyan choked successfully, spraying Sheng Xian with the beer in her mouth.

Sheng Xian hesitated for a moment, looking down at his own thigh.

Sheng Xian: “…”

Lu Jingyan paused, following his line of sight.

Lu Jingyan: “…”

She awkwardly diverted her gaze, with a hint of despair, placed the can on the table, and pulled out a few tissues, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself, let me help you…”

Before the tissues in her hand could touch Sheng Xian’s pants, he stopped her with a slight lift of his hand, “I can do it myself.”

Lu Jingyan was about to insist, “It’s okay, I can do it”, when she suddenly realized his voice sounded a bit strange, paused, and looked down.

Indeed, the spot where the beer had sprayed was a bit awkward…

Seeing her staring at his leg, Sheng Xian cleared his throat.

Lu Jingyan snapped back to reality, releasing the crumpled tissues she was holding, and sat down properly on the couch.

Sheng Xian wiped it off briefly, tossing the tissue into the trash bin.

After a moment of silence in the room, Sheng Xian asked, “Drinking more?”

“Ah?” Lu Jingyan glanced quickly at Sheng Xian, “Drink.”

Saying so, she pulled out a bottle of beer from the bag on the floor and placed it in front of Sheng Xian.

The two of them silently drank another bottle each. Just as Lu Jingyan was about to grab another, Sheng Xian stopped her, “Let’s not drink anymore.”

“Uh—” Lu Jingyan, with her finger hooked on the tab, didn’t open it, “You can’t handle anymore? Then your tolerance really isn’t that great. You should drink more often; that’s the only way to build it up.”

“What you possess isn’t even one-tenth of my tolerance. To me, these beers are just a warm-up…”

Watching her mutter to herself, Sheng Xian chuckled softly.

He lowered his gaze to his pants, which by now showed no trace of being wet, and suddenly interrupted her, “You trust me that much?”

Lu Jingyan stopped speaking, looking up puzzled, “What?”

Sheng Xian looked directly into her eyes, paused for a moment, and swallowed the words he was about to say.

…I don’t trust myself.

After a silence, Sheng Xian picked up his phone, tapped a few times, and summoned a rideshare, “Let’s go, I’ll take you home.”

…

After dropping Lu Jingyan off and seeing the light turn on in her house, Sheng Xian told the driver, “Let’s go, back to the place we came from.”

His alcohol tolerance wasn’t that bad; those few bottles of beer wouldn’t faze him.

The spot beside him, where she had just sat, still faintly carried her lingering scent.

Leaning back in the seat, he looked through the car window at the nightscape, thinking of her somewhat bizarre behavior earlier that evening.

Casually watching him with wide eyes when she thought he wasn’t looking.

After dinner, obediently standing by his side, keeping him company while he cleaned up the dining table, although she didn’t lift a finger.

Sheng Xian’s fingers moved aside, resting on the spot where she had just sat, lightly tapping the leather seat, a faint smile playing on his lips.

So his Little Fish was afraid of making him unhappy.

Sheng Xian chuckled, “You could have just sweet-talked your brother… why be so roundabout, such a contrarian little schoolkid.”

Back at home, Sheng Xian bent down to pick up Lu Jingyan’s replaced shoes, placing them neatly in the shoe cabinet, then grabbed a trash bag, and started crushing the empty cans one by one before tossing them in.

Looking at the couch that both of them had just sat on, Sheng Xian suddenly found the air inside the room a bit thin.

He rubbed his neck and stopped the jumble of thoughts in his head, picking up the large bag of beer on the floor and putting it away in the kitchen storage cabinet.

He had just come out when the cell phone in his pocket rang.

It was Chen Kai calling; Sheng Xian slid the screen to answer.

“Brother, are you okay?”

Sheng Xian replied indifferently, “I’m fine.”

“Really fine? Do you want me to bring over a couple bottles of alcohol?”

“No need,” Sheng Xian paused, “Someone’s already been here.”

“Who?”

Sheng Xian poured a glass of water and drank without speaking, tilting his head back.

Chen Kai thought it was one of his colleagues and didn’t ask further, “By the way, Brother, I was planning to have dinner with you tonight but something came up and I got delayed. Guess who I ran into tonight? I bumped into Lu Zhou.”

Sheng Xian paused as he drank his water.

Lu Zhou, that name was somewhat familiar.

“The second cousin of Xiaoyan, that jerk who always wanted her to be treated like merchandise. I’ve told you about him before.”

Sheng Xian set down the glass, “Hmm,” and kept walking to the bedroom while listening to Chen Kai go on.

“I really dislike him, but I’ve known him since we were kids and our families know each other. Sometimes we have to keep up appearances. But tonight, he brought up Xiaoyan out of the blue. I didn’t catch why he mentioned her, but it made me think of your question about whether Xiaoyan had gone through something traumatic to become the way she is now. It might be related to that. You see, Lu Zhou mentioned that Xiaoyan ran away from home for three days during junior high. After three days, she came back herself, and then she transferred schools.”

Sheng Xian latched onto the key point, “Ran away from home?”

“Lu Zhou said it was running away. He doesn’t like Xiaoyan himself. When he brought up this matter during the meal, he also spoke ill of her, saying that she ran away just to act like a little princess, that she’s always been willful and wayward.”

Sheng Xian stopped in his tracks, remembering many years ago, her wearing her school uniform inside out, grabbing his backpack, “Brother, can you take me to the hospital?”

It seemed like after that day, she never came to school again, and afterward, she transferred.

Chen Kai talked a lot by himself and then realized that Sheng Xian had been very quiet on the other end of the phone, “Brother?”

Sheng Xian came back to his senses, “I’m listening.”

“Oh, but I’ve pretty much said all there is to say. Anyway, there’s something else I’m curious about, who is Little Fish?”

“It’s…” Sheng Xian paused and with a touch of ulterior motive erased the word “future”: “Your sister-in-law.”

…

Su Jiu’s matter was buzzing on the internet for two days, overshadowed eventually by a big-name male superstar deeply rooted in the entertainment industry who suddenly released a suspected affair. That righteous brigade of internet vigilantes, ignoring the ambiguous suspected in the reports, marched on to their next stop in the pursuit of justice.

The hype around Su Jiu slowly began to fade, replaced by the appearance of one hot search term after another about the male superstar on everyone’s screens.

If you’re on the internet, you can see this kind of morbid reality daily—where one “scandal” covers up another. The perpetrators are always the same group of people, as are those who make their arguments with conviction and those who influence public opinion. It’s as if they’re the only ones in the world with a voice, those who shout about freedom of speech but only allow themselves to be heard.

They’re the ones erasing more and more people from sharing their joys and lives online, from sharing their travels and experiences.

They also force more and more people to become mute in the online world, silent and afraid to say one more word, lest they become the next victim swallowed by the raging floodwaters.

The court date for Su Jiu’s case was set on a Friday in early March.

Because of Su Jiu’s popularity, many media outlets were reporting on the opening of the court case early that morning. The trial wasn’t until the afternoon, but reporters had already stationed themselves at the courthouse entrance.

Both online and offline, there were many spectators.

Lu Jingyan was there too, but he stopped at the courthouse entrance.

Quite a crowd had gathered at the courthouse entrance, with no nearby parking lots; Lu Jingyan had parked at a shopping mall nearby and walked over.

He stood on the opposite side of the street, fixing the slipping strap of his bag on his shoulder and watching the countdown of the traffic light, gearing up to cross the street, when a person approached from the opposite side.

The individual wore a cap with a duckbill brim, head slightly bowed, face hidden within a high-necked black sweater.

Walking across the street alone, the individual moved briskly, and as they drew near Lu Jingyan, they looked up and smiled at him.

Lu Jingyan felt as though he had been nailed to the spot, unable to move.

All he could do was watch the person come to a stop in front of him.

The man kept smiling, a disconcerting, chilling smirk that included an eerie chuckle.

“Xiaojingyan, long time no see, huh.”

His gaze traveled around her, inspecting her as if she were his property, almost crushing Lu Jingyan’s mental defenses.

“I think of you all the time; do you think of me?”