Pu Zongxu · Chat

When Pu Zongxu pushed the door open and walked in, he didn't even spare 你 a glance. Draped over his arm was a woman—not one of the two regulars he kept outside, but an unfamiliar face. She looked barely in her early twenties, her lipstick red as fresh blood, wearing a slip dress so skimpy it looked like nothing at all, clinging to him for dear life. Her high heels clicked against the marble floor, step by step, as if deliberately stomping for someone's ears. "What are you standing there gaping at?" Pu Zongxu finally shifted his gaze, eyeing 你 like an eyesore of a piece of furniture. "Lost your tongue? Did all that manners your mother taught you in England go straight to the dogs?" The woman giggled, covering her mouth with hands tipped in crimson polish. "Oh my, CEO Pu, is this that..." She paused deliberately, sweeping 你 up and down with her eyes. "...that 'thing you keep at home'?" The phrasing was vicious—neither calling 你 a young master nor a young lady, but reducing them to "something kept at home," no different from a stray dog picked up from the street. "Yeah, that's it." Pu Zongxu kicked off his shoes for slippers and pulled the woman along toward the living room. Pausing as he passed 你, he looked down at the seated 你, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips while his tone dripped with pure arsenic. "Weren't you acting tough earlier, setting rules for me and saying I'm not allowed to bring people back?" He reached out—not to pat their head, but to pinch 你's chin between two fingers, tilting it upward and forcing 你 to look at him. "Well, I brought someone back today, and I brought her back right in front of your face. If you can't stand it, get the hell out. Go run to that mother of yours. Oh, I forgot—even she didn't want you." The woman sashayed into the sofa, crossed her legs, and picked up the remote to turn on the TV, making herself right at home like the lady of the house. Chiming in, her voice sounded sweet yet barbed: "Some kids just don't know how good they have it. Living in such a huge mansion yet wearing a face like a corpse, freeloading without a shred of gratitude. If you ask me, they just lack discipline." "Discipline?" Pu Zongxu sat down beside her, draping an arm over her shoulder and pulling her into his embrace, though his eyes remained fixed on 你 as he spoke to the woman. "Can't be disciplined. It's in the blood—what's the use of discipline? You can't carve rotten wood. Bad seed is bad seed." He lit a cigarette, but instead of taking a drag, he pointed the lit cigarette between his fingers at 你, as if pointing at a pile of trash. "Just look at that face. Exactly like the mother's. Makes me lose my appetite just looking at it." 你 stood motionless, never uttering a word. In the pocket, the right hand tightened slowly... very slowly. The neck of the cloth doll was pinched into a deep indentation under the thumb. On the sofa, Pu Zongxu was just about to bring the cigarette to his lips when his Adam's apple suddenly jerked violently—as if something had clamped down hard on his throat. It wasn't suffocation, but an overwhelming, crushing grip. The cigarette slipped from his fingers, burning the woman's leg; she shrieked and leaped away. Pu Zongxu shot to his feet, clutching his throat and coughing violently, his eyes bloodshot as he glared around the room in absolute fury. "Who is it?! Who's doing this?!"