Chapter 1: I'm Not Falling For Your Tricks Anymore

Outside the window, brilliant lights shone into the dim room, casting a patch of light and shadow over the man lying on the bed with a blurred consciousness.

The air was thick with a heavy scent of alcohol, which was somewhat pleasant. Wen Ling crouched by the bedside with her knees hugged to her chest, quietly watching the drunken man. The man's pale skin was flushed a rosy red; his usual arrogance had faded, and with the corners of his eyes moist, he actually appeared somewhat fragile and pitiable.

Wen Ling suddenly leaned closer to him, gently attempting to undo the buttons of his shirt.

Before she had unfastened more than a few, her hand was suddenly gripped with great force. Wen Ling's heart raced as she lifted her eyes to look at the man.

The man's eyes were hazy, as if covered by a thin veil of mist, unable to focus. His narrow eyes blinked a few times before he finally saw clearly who the person straddling him was.

"Wen Ling." He called her name, his voice thick with intoxication.

Wen Ling gave a guilty "Mm," turning her face away, not daring to look at him.

"You finally came to see me in my dreams..." His voice began to slur, yet his tone was filled with extreme grievance: "It's been three years. Why did it take you so long to come see me?"

"Zhou Yinhé, I..."

But before she could finish her sentence, Zhou Yinhé rolled over to pin her down, roughly biting her lip. Wen Ling let out a pained "Ugh." Just as she was about to ask him to be gentler, she heard Zhou Yinhé murmur softly, "You heartless bastard, I missed you so much."

Wen Ling could no longer bear to say anything else. She allowed him to bite her, breaking free from his restraint to undo his remaining buttons.

The curves of their shadows pressed together, merging into one. Scattered pieces of clothing lay all over the floor; the black shirt and black miniskirt gradually piled up. The scent of alcohol in the air gradually blended with another fragrance, a scent that would make anyone blush upon smelling it.

Zhou Yinhé sensed that something was wrong. This feeling was both strange and familiar, yet it shouldn't be something that would occur in a dream.

He lowered his gaze to look at the woman before him, whose cheeks were flushed crimson. The hands bracing him on either side of her tightened, and the pain brought him a semblance of clarity.

Wen Ling looked up at him dazed, clearly feeling his frantic heartbeat and heat. She simply assumed he was heavily intoxicated and wanted to slow down; her slender, fair hands hooked around his neck, and she flipped over.

He had indeed drunk a great deal. The intoxication permeated Zhou Yinhé's thoughts, burning away his remaining rationality, allowing himself to be dragged into the rolling depths of a deep sea.

The breath was thick and then gradually dissipated. Wen Ling lay on the edge of the bed to steady her breathing, but behind her, Zhou Yinhé suddenly pulled away as if he had encountered a ferocious beast.

"Wen... Ling." He pronounced her name sharply, word by word.

Wen Ling turned her head back dizzily, only to collide with his eyes, which had not yet lost their jade-like clarity but were now stained with anger. Her heart trembled uncontrollably.

"When did you come back? Why am I here!" he demanded.

Hearing this, Wen Ling snapped back to reality. She bit her lip, climbed up, and pulled the quilt over herself, half her face hidden beneath it. She said guiltily, "I came back yesterday. I... I had people intercept you."

The fragmented memories from before entering the hotel flooded back. Zhou Yinhé let out a cold laugh, irritably running his hands through his already messy hair. He said sarcastically, "So those bodyguards were your people. What? Have there been no men around you for these three years? Do you need to come back and find your ex-boyfriend to do this kind of thing?"

The blush on Wen Ling's face faded rapidly. With a pale face, she explained haltingly, "It's not like that. I, I was afraid you wouldn't want to see me, so I..."

Zhou Yinhé let out a cold "Heh." His chest heaved as he suppressed the surging anger, saying through gritted teeth, "You, Miss Wen, certainly have quite the skill. You dump someone and then come back, thinking you can just summon them and dismiss them whenever you feel like it just by saying you regret it?"

"It really isn't. Please listen to me, okay? It really isn't what you think. The reason I did it back then was because..." She leaned toward him, trying to reach out and take his hand, but before she could finish her sentence, it felt as if countless tiny needles were stabbing her head. The pain was so intense that she collapsed onto the bed, instantly breaking into a cold sweat.

Zhou Yinhé merely thought she was playing the victim. He pursed his thin lips, picked up his clothes to put them on, and said coldly, "Stop acting. I'm not falling for that anymore."

Back when they weren't together, Wen Ling would often act pitiful or unwell to soften his heart. It was just like this, step by step, that she had won him over. And just when he had completely immersed himself in her, she had suddenly turned her back and dumped him, ignoring his pleas to stay.

Wen Ling pressed her fingers against her temples, forcing herself to prop up her body and shake her head. Before she could say anything, she saw Zhou Yinhé turn and stride away.

Hearing the sound of the door being slammed shut with force, Wen Ling collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. The needle-like pain in her head had vanished the moment she stopped trying to speak. She stared blankly at the intricate chandelier above her head.

*So I can't tell Zhou Yinhé. Then why can I tell Lu Zhaoye? Is it just because Zhou Yinhé is the male lead of the book?* Wen Ling frowned and sighed. As a "male lead's white moonlight, villainous, ex-girlfriend" who had only awakened after dying once, she was truly miserable. She couldn't even tell the honest truth.

The phone on the floor suddenly rang, sounding exceptionally piercing in the quiet space. Startled, Wen Ling jolted. She got out of bed, picked up the phone, and pulled her robe over herself as she answered.

The man's voice coming from the other end of the phone was casual, sounding somewhat unprofessional.

"How is it? Did you tell him?"

The corners of Wen Ling's mouth drooped, and she said with a pout, "I was just about to explain the reason to him, but my head felt like it was being stabbed with needles. I couldn't say it at all."

Hearing Wen Ling's words, the man laughed without any mercy.

He only stopped laughing when he felt Wen Ling was about to get angry, saying lazily, "Anyone hearing about this would think it's absurd. So, I suggest you take it slow. Otherwise, even if you manage to say it, he'll only think you're trying to trick him into your arms again."

"..."

Wen Ling fell silent for a moment. She organized her thoughts and regained her resolve, saying to the man on the phone—though she was really saying it to herself: "It doesn't matter. Anyway, I'll coax him back sooner or later."

(End of Chapter)