Chapter 9: A Hollow in the Heart

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After Zhao Botong left with Jing Pei, Fang Zhixu changed out of his groom’s suit. Wearing a watch worth a fortune, he walked toward Meng Tang.

“The wedding dress suits you perfectly, and my suit fits well too. Nanhang just called. There’s a problem in the engineering department, and I need to go back and deal with it immediately.”

At the news that he was leaving, the happy smile on Meng Tang’s face stiffened. “Is it really that urgent?”

“Very urgent.”

She touched his impeccably tailored cuff. “But there’s still one dress I haven’t tried on. I wanted you to see it.”

Fang Zhixu’s smile was faint and inscrutable. “How could anything you designed be bad? That bridesmaid’s dress looks as though it was made specifically for Zhao Botong. And that day, when you took my phone, were you calling her? Why didn’t I see the call record? Did you delete it?”

Meng Tang’s heart sank. The intimidating authority radiating from Fang Zhixu was no weaker than before—if anything, it was more formidable.

Since returning to the country, this was the first time Meng Tang had felt guilty in front of him. Yet her expression remained perfectly composed. “I didn’t have Zhao Botong’s number, so I used your phone to call her. Xiaozhi is pregnant, and only Zhao Botong could fit into that dress. I already explained that to you.”

“I’m not blaming you.” There was still no trace of anger on Fang Zhixu’s face, but his eyes seemed veiled in a layer of icy mist, making him impossible to read. “The engineering problem really is urgent. Try everything on properly. I’ll leave first.”

Meng Tang did not let go. She was testing the limits of Fang Zhixu’s patience.

Without the slightest change in expression, Fang Zhixu brushed her hand away. “Be good. You know I’ve always liked obedient women.”

Meng Tang suddenly realized that in the past, even when she had threatened him with breaking up and carried on as though her life depended on it, she had never been able to control Fang Zhixu. Now, she had even less chance.

In only a few years, Fang Zhixu had pushed aside Nanhang’s old guard and risen to the position of chief engineer. Besides his formidable technical expertise, he must also possess exceptional methods, along with the support of the family behind him. With such an eminent and powerful family, combined with his own outstanding talent, he could never tolerate restraints or limitations—least of all those imposed by a woman.

Whatever Zhao Botong did not have, Meng Tang possessed. And whatever Zhao Botong had, Meng Tang could acquire as well.

With that thought, Meng Tang put on a smile and assumed a reasonable, understanding air. “Go take care of your work. I’ll take some pictures and send them to you.”

Fang Zhixu nodded and left without lingering.

Meng Tang watched his retreating figure, the smile on her face cracking inch by inch.

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Fang Zhixu probably did not know.

Just moments ago, she had seen him enter Zhao Botong’s dressing room with her own eyes. She had heard what they were doing inside.

…

Outside Jinan Apartments, Jing Pei parked his flashy, eye-catching sports car. Resting one arm along the back of the passenger seat and crossing one leg over the other, he half-embraced Zhao Botong.

“Miss Zhao, won’t you invite me upstairs for a cup of tea?”

Zhao Botong was no naive young girl. She could see through Jing Pei’s intentions.

“It’s very late. That wouldn’t be convenient.”

Jing Pei pouted and leaned a little closer. “Why do you always reject me?”

Zhao Botong disliked the overpowering scent of his cologne. She frowned slightly. “I’m leaving, Young Master Jing. Thank you for bringing me home.”

“That’s all I get for thanks? How insincere!” Jing Pei reached for her hand, but she pulled away.

Zhao Botong had no intention of entangling herself with him any longer. She quickly opened the car door and escaped. When she glanced back, Jing Pei had not followed her out, but the smile on his face as he sat inside the car still sent a chill through her. She quickened her pace.

Her apartment was on the fifth floor. Usually, she felt she could reach home in no time, but that evening every second seemed to drag.

Her heart was in turmoil, seized by a persistent sense of foreboding. Even her fingers trembled as she entered the door code.

Fortunately, Jing Pei did not follow her.

Zhao Botong closed the door and leaned against it, drawing several deep breaths.

That very night, Zhao Botong came down with a fever. In a daze, she fumbled through a drawer, found a fever reducer, and swallowed it.

She slept as though the world had vanished. Vaguely, she heard the sound of the lock turning, but her eyelids were too heavy to open. Then she felt someone bring water to her lips.

She sank into a firm embrace.

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“Zhao Botong, where does it hurt?”

Zhao Botong pointed to her heart, her voice no more than a thread of breath, choked with grief. “Here.”

“There’s a hole in my heart. A dog ate it…” It took great effort for Zhao Botong to speak. “Why don’t you love me? Am I not good enough? Then stop tormenting me. Let me go, will you?”

She received no answer.

Zhao Botong did not regain some strength until the afternoon of the following day.

The moment she woke, she heard clattering from the kitchen. Thinking someone had broken in, she snatched up a mop from the bathroom and cautiously pulled open the kitchen door.

“Xueya?” Zhao Botong tossed the mop aside.

Li Xueya wiped her wet hands on her apron. “You didn’t go to work all day, and I couldn’t reach you on the phone. I was worried, so I took the day off and came to check on you. You’d sweated a lot, and your lips were terribly dry. I gave you some water, and then you fell asleep again.”

In her daze, Zhao Botong remembered the dream she had had: someone feeding her water and asking where she was in pain.

So it had not been a dream. It had been Xueya taking care of her.

She had thought it was…

“I made millet porridge and stir-fried cucumber with shrimp. Go wash up, then come eat.”

Zhao Botong nodded. “Thank you, Xueya.”

The setting sun bathed Li Xueya’s smiling face in warmth. “Don’t be so formal with me.”

Zhao Botong was a homebody and had few friends. Li Xueya was her closest friend—and the only one among everyone she knew who was aware of her relationship with Fang Zhixu.

Zhao Botong went to the bathroom to wash up. The moment she lifted the lid of the trash can, she saw seven or eight cigarette butts lying inside.

Her hand stopped in the middle of brushing her teeth.