novelraw Chapter 224 is merely using
Chapter 224 is merely using
Lu Xiran pushed Gu Yanshen away. She was afraid that he would say those words again, "You can be happy with someone else," which would be more unbearable than any other hurt.
"Ranran." Gu Yanshen pulled her into his arms again, holding her tightly. "Your love makes me feel both happy and... at a loss."
"I wish you were a little more selfish, or loved me a little less."
Lu Xiran's tears fell onto his chest. She shook her head forcefully, her voice hoarse but incredibly firm: "But I can't do it. Even if I misunderstand that you don't love me, even if you're with Song Zhihe, I still can't stop loving you. Besides, now I know you love me, love me more than I imagined, so it's impossible for me not to love you."
She buried her face in the crook of his neck, crying and trembling, but her hands clung tightly to his clothes as if she would never let go.
She loved him, not because he was perfect, not because he was powerful, but because he had given her his heart without her knowing. This love was heavy, weighing her down, yet it also made her feel like the luckiest person in the world.
She didn't want him to love her any less. She wanted all his possessiveness, all his anxieties, all his "helplessness"—she wanted it all. Because she was the same, loving him to the point of no return, loving him so much that even if he pushed her away a hundred times, she would run back for the hundred and first time, hug him, and tell him: I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere.
At the same time, when Song Zhihe saw that photo, she felt like her whole world had collapsed.
On her phone screen, the photo of Gu Yanshen and Lu Xiran together stung her eyes—"The day I first met you." She commented to herself: "Long-planned, thankfully I got a response."
Song Zhihe stared at the screen, her pupils trembling violently. In all the years she had known Gu Yanshen, she had never seen him look at anyone with such eyes—gentle, restrained, and cautious, as if he were holding a precious treasure that could break at any moment.
"Impossible..." Her voice trembled, her fingers gripping the phone tightly until her knuckles turned white. "This is impossible!"
She frantically scrolled through the comments, which were all blessings. Some said, "President Gu is so affectionate," others said, "So he's been secretly in love for a long time." Every word felt like a knife cutting into her heart.
How many years had she known Gu Yanshen? She had stayed by his side, carefully trying to please him, going to great lengths to get close to him, even resorting to dirty tricks to drive a wedge between him and Lu Xiran. But he had never looked at her with that kind of gaze. In that photo, Gu Yanshen's eyes shone with light, tenderness, and a cautious, almost devout love.
And she had nothing.
"ah--!"
The phone was smashed against the wall, the sound of the screen shattering mirroring the cracking of her heart. She swept everything off the table—vases, wine glasses, perfume bottles, photo frames—shattering them all. She grabbed her most cherished crystal ornament—a birthday gift to herself—and smashed it against the mirror. The mirror shattered, shards flying everywhere, reflecting countless images of her disheveled self.
"Why? Why her!" Her voice was hoarse, almost inaudible. "What do I lack compared to her? I've been with you for so many years! Gu Yanshen, you have no heart!"
She kicked over a chair, ripped down the curtains, and didn't even feel the pain as her nails split open. She was like an empty puppet, or a trapped beast driven to the brink of despair, crying and laughing amidst the mess.
She grabbed her phone again and smashed it to the ground. The screen shattered, but the photo remained lit, like a thorn piercing her, making it hard to breathe.
She crouched on the ground, hugging her shoulders, trembling all over. Her sobs went from suppressed to shrill, and finally to hysterical screams.
Doorbell rang.
Song Zhihe ignored her.
The door was opened from the outside—she didn't have many people with spare keys; besides herself, only…
"Gardenia?"
Gu Yanbo stood at the door, frowned slightly at the mess on the ground, and then strode in.
Gu Yanbo was dressed in a suit and tie, his hair perfectly styled. He glanced at the shards scattered on the floor, without even frowning—instead, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly for a fleeting moment, as quick as some kind of instinctive reaction.
This is the moment he's been waiting for.
"Zhihe." His voice was deep, with just the right amount of concern. He stepped over the broken glass and came in, his leather shoes crunching on the shards as if he were crushing something.
Song Zhihe looked up, her eyes red and swollen beyond recognition, her makeup ruined by tears. She saw Gu Yanbo's face—a face that bore a resemblance to Gu Yanshen—and for a moment she thought she was seeing Gu Yanshen herself.
"Yan Shen..." She rushed over and grabbed his collar, "You're here... You've finally come to see me..."
Gu Yanbo's body stiffened for a moment. He didn't push her away, but he didn't hug her either. He just stood there, looking down at the woman in his arms who was crying uncontrollably, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes.
That emotion vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold, almost cruel calculation.
"Look carefully, see who I am." His voice was soft, yet sharp as a knife.
Song Zhihe looked up abruptly and saw the face clearly—it wasn't Gu Yanshen, it was Gu Yanbo. Her gaze shifted from hope to disappointment, and then from disappointment to a self-deprecating desolation.
"It's you..." She released her grip, staggering back a step. "Did you come here to laugh at me?"
Gu Yanbo didn't answer. He slowly squatted down to be at her eye level, reached out and pinched her chin, forcing her to look at him. His grip was just right, not too light, not too heavy, so she couldn't break free.
"Do you think," he said, his thumb slowly stroking her chin, his voice carrying a dangerous tenderness, "that I have the time to laugh at you?"
Song Zhihe was stunned.
Gu Yanbo's gaze changed. That cold, calculating look suddenly cracked open, revealing something she couldn't understand—not pity, not sympathy, but more like... an almost obsessive possessiveness.
"Gu Yanshen doesn't want you," he said, each word distinct, his voice low and deep, as if it came from the earth. "I do want you."
Song Zhihe's tears welled up again. She didn't know whether to believe him or not. She knew Gu Yanbo too well—ruthless, heartless, and capable of betraying even his own brothers. How could he possibly be sincere towards her?
"You're just using me." Her voice trembled. "You're just like Gu Yanshen, you're only using me!"
Gu Yanbo's eyes darkened. He suddenly released her chin, pulled her up from the ground with such force that she stumbled into his arms. He held her waist, and with his other hand, he ran his fingers through her disheveled hair, forcing her to tilt her head back.