The innocent and sweet girl turned red at first glance, shattering her abstinent and domineering per

This was the second time Wen Song had been hugged by Zhou Shijing since they had been together for so long.

Compared to the excitement and joy she felt the first time, all she felt now was bewilderment and rejection.

Once the body has become accustomed to another person's touch, it can no longer accept the touch of others.

She instinctively struggled and pushed him away.

"It's too late, Zhou Shijing. It's too late to say anything now."

"It's not too late, Songsong. As long as we still like each other, it's never too late."

As he spoke, he disregarded Wen Song's wishes and tried to hug her again, but suddenly the back of his collar was grabbed by a strong force and he was pulled backward.

"Can't you see? She's rejecting you; she doesn't want you to touch her!"

Lu Zhiheng was very strong, and Zhou Shijing was already drunk and not very quick to react. He didn't have time to resist and was shoved aside by Lu Zhiheng.

He staggered several steps, and only after finally regaining his balance did he see who it was. He exclaimed in utter disbelief, "Uncle?"

Wen Song finally came to his senses after this sudden turn of events.

The two looked at Lu Zhiheng and saw that his expression was cold and his whole body exuded a strong sense of hostility.

"land…"

Wen Song had a bad feeling. He uttered one word, then, remembering something, swallowed the remaining two words back: "How did you get here?"

Lu Zhiheng's dark eyes churned violently, and his throat bobbed several times before he finally suppressed the urge to pull Wen Song away in front of Zhou Shijing. "I'm just passing by on my way."

His gaze was fixed on Wen Song, and every word he spoke carried an immense pressure: "I'm going back to Yunjin Pavilion now. Do you want to come with me?"

Wen Song was already heading back, so upon hearing this, she nodded quickly. Just as she was about to walk towards Lu Zhiheng, Zhou Shijing stepped forward and blocked their path.

"Uncle, she's not leaving now; I still have something to say to her."

Zhou Shijing was not much shorter than Lu Zhiheng, but he was far less imposing than Lu Zhiheng.

Lu Zhiheng didn't say anything, but just looked at him with those extremely imposing eyes, which made Zhou Shijing unconsciously feel guilty.

He had always felt more awe than respect for this uncle, but at this moment he still mustered up his courage and insisted, "Uncle, this is between me and Songsong."

"Yeah?"

Lu Zhiheng had never given Zhou Shijing that look before; it was a look that was both disdainful and mocking. In short, it was no longer the gentle and indulgent look that an elder would give to a younger person.

"Why don't you ask Wen Song if she wants to stay here and continue your unfinished conversation, or come with me?"

Zhou Shijing frowned slightly. To be honest, he was genuinely unsure of himself. His hands, which had been hanging limply, clenched into fists as he slowly turned to look at Wen Song. "Songsong..."

Wen Song lowered her eyes, not looking at him. Her pale lips moved slightly, but the words she uttered instantly shattered Zhou Shijing's last glimmer of hope, "I'm going with my uncle..."

really……

At this moment, Zhou Shijing's heart was deeply overwhelmed by despair.

He stood there dumbfounded, watching Wen Song brush past his shoulder and walk up to Lu Zhiheng.

Her familiar fragrance seemed to still linger around his nose, and the soft touch of her body seemed to still remain in his arms. He reluctantly raised his head and, almost instinctively, took off after her, calling out, "Songsong!"

The shout was hoarse and broken, and Wen Song's body trembled uncontrollably, his steps faltering in place.

Just as she was about to turn around, Lu Zhiheng had already turned around first, his tall figure silently shielding her behind him, while at the same time blocking Zhou Shijing's burning and painful gaze.

"Songsong, don't go..."

It was as if if he didn't catch her this time, he would lose her forever.

With red eyes, Zhou Shijing staggered forward, desperately trying to get around the man in front of her. He reached out to grab Wen Song's wrist, but his fingertips barely brushed against her cool sleeve before being forcefully stopped.

He gripped Lu Zhiheng's arm tightly, his fingertips turning white, his voice broken and obsessive, choked with an almost pleading sob: "Do you know how painful the process of treating post-traumatic stress disorder is? During the hardest times, I suffered from insomnia every night, repeatedly breaking down, and I really wished I could just die. Songsong, it was because of you that I finally persevered. Please... don't let my only hope disappear, okay?"

These words were too heavy, like a boulder crashing down on Wen Song's heart.

The tenderness and regret of the past surged and intertwined, making her throat feel tight, her nose turn red, and her heart feel as if it were being roasted on a fire, caught in a dilemma.

Lu Zhiheng didn't need to turn around to feel her wavering, and his dark eyes became even colder.

He remained motionless, his well-defined knuckles precisely gripping Zhou Shijing's wrist with a cold, hard force, tightening his grip inch by inch.

"Zhou Shijing, that's enough."

His deep voice was icy cold, each word sharp and deliberate, crushing the other's broken pleas.

"It's your business to save yourself."

"But by what right do you use your suffering to hold her life hostage?"

Lu Zhiheng is too shrewd and too insightful.

Zhou Shijing's deepest and most humble scheme, his last trump card to turn the tide, was laid bare before Wen Song with a single, casual remark, leaving him nowhere to hide.

He froze, his clenched fingers suddenly lost their strength, and the obsessive red light in his eyes gradually faded, leaving only the pale and disheveled look of someone who had been exposed and humiliated.

Lu Zhiheng brushed Zhou Shijing aside with a restrained yet undeniably authoritative gesture.

He turned around, his arm loosely around Wen Song's side, protecting her as she walked step by step toward the Maybach parked by the roadside.

Zhu He had already opened the back door, and after the two of them got into the car, he slammed the heavy door shut with a click.

This car door acted like a cold barrier, completely shutting out the resentment, despair, and loneliness surging in Zhou Shijing's eyes.

The carriage instantly separated from the hustle and bustle of the night outside, becoming so quiet that only the shallow breathing of a few people could be heard.

Wen Song leaned back in his chair, his shoulders still trembling slightly. The emotions from the struggle and confrontation just now still weighed heavily on his heart.

She didn't look out the window, not daring to look at the figure standing there.

Lu Zhiheng turned his head to look at her several times, but she kept her head down quietly, as if she had detached herself from reality and fallen into her own world.

She hadn't done that action in a long time, and now she unconsciously started rubbing her fingers again.

Lu Zhiheng's brows furrowed, and his chest heaved deeply.

He reached out and took Wen Song's hand in his. His warm, broad palm gently enveloped her constantly rubbing fingertips, silencing her unconscious, uneasy movements.

"Follow your heart in everything, and don't make things difficult for yourself."

Wen Song suddenly looked up, her gaze meeting Lu Zhiheng's dark, calm eyes before quickly looking away.

He saw through her struggle, but he didn't rush her, force her, or put any shackles on her. Instead, he let her follow her heart in everything.

Wen Song's heart, which had been twisted into a pretzel, immediately relaxed.

Her nose tingled slightly, and her eyes welled up with tears. "Lu Zhiheng, I need some time..."