Zhou Suisui walked in.
The room was large and dimly lit.
The dark curtains were fully drawn, and only a single desk lamp was turned on, casting a circle of dim yellow light onto the thick carpet. Chen Boxu sat on the sofa by the window, holding a glass of wine, not looking at her.
Zhou Suisui stood at the door, her fingertips gripping her handbag tightly.
Don't be nervous, she told herself. You chose to come here.
But she couldn't control it. The air was filled with the cedar scent from his body, mixed with the aroma of alcohol, making it difficult for her to breathe. The black dress clung tightly to her body like a layer of cold, wet restraint.
Chen Boxu finally looked up.
His gaze swept slowly across her face, as if examining a newly arrived item. It held no warmth, but was exceptionally meticulous.
From her newly cut short hair to the exquisite makeup on her face, and then down to the black dress she wore, which was clearly not the one from yesterday.
Finally, his eyes landed on her feet.
The strappy sandals had black laces winding around her slender ankles, making her pale skin look dazzlingly white.
"Sit," he said.
His voice wasn't loud, but in the overly quiet room, every word felt like a strike against Zhou Suisui's heart.
She walked over and sat down on the single sofa opposite him. Her movements were a bit stiff. The hemline was too short, and she subconsciously tugged it down with her hand.
Chen Boxu watched this little gesture without saying a word.
He set down his wine glass, leaned forward slightly, and rested his elbows on his knees.
This posture instantly reminded Zhou Suisui of the first time she saw him in his apartment. He had been just like this, like an approaching beast examining its prey.
"You changed your outfit," he began, his tone flat, betraying no emotion. "Who picked it out for you?"
Zhou Suisui's throat tightened. "...A friend."
"Liu Weiwei?"
Zhou Suisui's breath hitched. How did he know?
Chen Boxu observed the subtle panic on her face, the corners of his lips curving up ever so faintly. "Looks like it."
He leaned back into the sofa, picked up his glass, and swirled it gently. The amber liquid left fine streaks along the sides of the glass.
"What did she teach you?" he asked.
Zhou Suisui's fingernails dug into her palms. "She... helped me pick out clothes."
"What else?"
"...Nothing else."
Chen Boxu raised his eyes and looked at her.
His gaze was too heavy, too direct. Zhou Suisui almost looked away, but she forced herself to meet his eyes.
"She told me," she heard her own voice, steadier than she had imagined, "not to catch feelings, not to get greedy, and to protect myself."
Chen Boxu fell silent for a few seconds.
Then, he laughed.
It wasn't a laugh of amusement, but rather a confirmation of what he had expected. The low chuckle dispersed into the quiet room, making Zhou Suisui's heart clench.
"She certainly knows her stuff," he said.
After saying this, he didn't continue the topic. Instead, he put down his glass and stood up.
Zhou Suisui's body instantly tensed.
Chen Boxu walked up to her and stopped. His tall figure loomed over her, blocking most of the light. She could smell the clearer scent of cedar on him, mixed with a faint trace of alcohol.
He reached out his hand—not to touch her, but to use his fingertips to gently lift the thin strap on her shoulder.
The silky fabric slid past his fingertips.
"Nice material," he said, his voice very close. "Better than the one from yesterday."
Zhou Suisui went completely stiff, not daring to move an inch.
His fingertips slowly slid down along the strap, trailing over her bare shoulder and stopping at her collarbone. His temperature was very low, like ice, sending a fine layer of shivers across her skin.
"Look up," he said.
Zhou Suisui obediently lifted her face.
Chen Boxu looked down at her, his gaze lingering on her face for a long time. Then, he bent down and leaned close to her ear.
The distance was so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath and smell the richer blend of cedar and alcohol on him.
"Tell me," his voice was kept very low, almost a whisper. "Last night, after you went back, what were you thinking about?"
Zhou Suisui's heart contracted sharply.
What was she thinking about?
She had been thinking about him. Thinking about the way he looked at her, thinking about the business card he had slipped into her clothes, thinking about the shameful things she had said.
But she couldn't say that.
"I..." she started, her voice trembling slightly. "I was thinking about... what to wear today."
Chen Boxu didn't speak.
A few seconds later, he straightened up and withdrew his hand.
"Go take a shower," he said, his tone returning to its previous flatness. "The bathroom is over there."
Zhou Suisui froze.
A shower?
Now?
Chen Boxu had already turned and walked back to the sofa. He sat down again, picked up his glass, and stopped looking at her.
Zhou Suisui sat in place, her fingers tightly gripping the hem of her dress. A sense of shame rushed to her head like boiling magma, burning her cheeks and making her ears ring.
After a long time, Zhou Suisui slowly stood up.
Her legs felt a bit weak, but she steadied herself. She didn't look at Chen Boxu, turning and walking in the direction he had just pointed.
The bathroom was large, paved with black marble and decorated in a minimalist style. The bathtub was built-in, and next to it sat a complete set of unopened toiletries.
Zhou Suisui closed the door, leaned against it, and took a deep breath.
The reflection in the mirror showed her pale face, but her eyes were startlingly bright.
She walked over to the sink, turned on the faucet, and splashed cold water on her face. The water was very cold, sobering her up a bit.
Then, she started to undress.
The black dress, the black underwear, fell to the floor piece by piece. She looked at her naked self in the mirror—a young body, full curves, her skin exuding a delicate luster under the light.
This is your capital, she told herself.
She turned on the showerhead. Hot water cascaded down, steaming up a cloud of mist. She scrubbed her body hard, as if doing so could wash away the increasingly intense sense of shame in her heart.
But it couldn't be washed away.
The hot water scalded her skin red, and she closed her eyes.
By the time she finished her shower and came out, nearly half an hour had passed.
There was a prepared bathrobe in the bathroom, white and very thick. She put it on, tying the belt tightly.
When she returned to the room, Chen Boxu was still on the sofa, the glass in his hand now empty. He looked up at her, his gaze lingering for a moment on her wet hair and the tightly wrapped bathrobe.
"Come here," he said.
Zhou Suisui walked over and stopped in front of him.
Chen Boxu reached out, grabbed her wrist, and gave a gentle pull. She stumbled and fell onto his lap.
The collar of the bathrobe parted slightly from the movement, revealing a small patch of collarbone and damp skin on her chest. Zhou Suisui instinctively tried to pull it closed, but Chen Boxu had already reached out, slipping his fingertips into the opening of the robe.
His fingers were very cold. Pressed against her warm skin, they made her whole body tremble.
"Scared?" he asked, his voice very soft.
Zhou Suisui bit her lip and said nothing.
Chen Boxu's fingers slowly slid down along her collarbone, stopping at a faint red mark on her chest. He gently caressed that patch of skin, his movements very slow, carrying a sense of scrutiny.
"I left this yesterday," he said. "It's still here."
Zhou Suisui went completely stiff.
His fingertips continued downward, probing deeper into the bathrobe. Zhou Suisui held her breath, her nails digging deeply into her palms.
Then, he stopped.
"Turn around," he said.
Zhou Suisui froze for a moment before his meaning finally dawned on her. She stood up from the sofa, turned around, and put her back to him.
The belt of her bathrobe was untied from behind.
An unknown amount of time passed.
When Zhou Suisui emerged from the bathroom again, her entire body felt limp.
Chen Boxu was no longer in the room.
She walked over to the bed, lay down, and pulled the covers over herself.
The blanket carried his scent, a mix of cedarwood and the lingering aftermath of their passion.
She closed her eyes, her mind flooded with the images of what had just happened...
And Lin Xiao's phone calls.
Those three missed calls were like three fine needles piercing her heart.
Zhou Suisui rolled over and buried her face in the pillow.
The pillow held an even more distinct scent of his hair.
She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and looked toward the nightstand.
There sat a thick stack of cash, bound with a bank strap. Beside it lay a bank card and a piece of paper.
Zhou Suisui reached out and picked up the note.
There was only one handwritten line on it:
Every Friday night, Eva will contact you.
There was no signature, no unnecessary words.
She set the note down, staring at the stack of cash and the card.
The sense of shame that had just subsided in her chest swelled up once more.
But this time, it was mingled with a strange, almost resigned sense of peace, like the dust finally settling.
She reached out and picked up the cash.
It was thick and heavy.
She counted it. Fifty thousand.
More than she made in half a year.
Zhou Suisui placed the money back onto the nightstand, lay back down, and pulled the covers tight around herself.
Outside the window, the sky was already beginning to turn pale.
A new day was about to begin.
