Being "Crushed" - Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Just as the emotions in the man’s eyes darkened to the brink of explosion, Song Yuhan pushed him away and, before he could react, clamped her hand over his mouth, her face full of fluster and panic.
“Shh! Get up—go hide in the closet!” she urged him anxiously.
Upon hearing this, Lu Sifang’s first reaction wasn’t confusion, nor suspicion—it was jealousy.
He frowned, thinking it over for two seconds, but before he could say a word, she shoved him again in her urgency, and he was half-pushed, half-dragged into the wardrobe full of her clothes.
As the closet door suddenly slammed shut in front of him, he was momentarily speechless.
Standing at 190 cm, he had to crouch slightly just to barely fit inside the cramped wardrobe. Darkness engulfed him entirely, and the only source of light and air came sneaking in through the narrow slits of the door.
One couldn’t help but wonder what the wardrobe designer would think if they knew their creation could save lives in moments like this…
With so little space, and his frame being so large, Lu Sifang had to support himself with effort inside.
Luckily, he was a professional athlete, with solid core strength. If it had been an average person without much physical training, they’d probably have collapsed in seconds and gotten caught red-handed.
He didn’t really mind—but she was thin-skinned. She’d probably be so mortified she’d cry on the spot…
With a sigh, Lu Sifang closed his eyes and tried to relax his breathing—only to instantly inhale a rich, rose-like fragrance.
He recognized it. It was her scent—unique to her.
Even after all these years, he had never forgotten it.
Outside, the knocking resumed. After making sure he was fully stuffed inside and safe, Song Yuhan turned back toward the closet and whispered one last warning:
“Don’t make a sound, or we’re both screwed!”
Lu Sifang: “……”
This scene… her furtive whispering… it was impossible not to misinterpret the situation.
But it wasn’t like they were actually having an affair. So what was she so scared of? Why did he have to hide like some kind of shameful side piece?
Since when had he ever been treated like this?
While he was brooding, Song Yuhan fixed her hair and adjusted her expression, making sure there was no trace of anything unusual before she finally opened the door.
Click—
The door opened at last.
The man who had been waiting outside was finally allowed in. Yet, instead of scolding her for taking so long to open the door, he simply chuckled softly.
“What brings you here this late?” Song Yuhan was clearly surprised to see him, though her tone was familiar and casual.
“Knew you wouldn’t be used to the food here in Zhonggang, so I brought your favorite snacks.”
The man spoke with a gentle, magnetic voice, smiling as he did. There was no effort to hide his care for her—in fact, there was a touch of pampering in his tone.
A moment later, the door closed behind them, and soft, unhurried footsteps echoed through the room.
The closer the footsteps got, the deeper Lu Sifang’s frown became.
From the moment the man entered, every one of his actions had been smooth and natural—like he’d done it a thousand times. He didn’t behave like a guest at all.
His ease and confidence made even a blind man capable of recognizing that the relationship between him and Song Yuhan was far from ordinary.
A man walking into a woman’s hotel room this late at night… and she wasn’t even the least bit disturbed?
That level of familiarity… was deafening.
Inside the closet, Lu Sifang’s dark eyes gleamed with intensity, and the emotions in his eyes grew heavier, thicker, more dangerous by the second—like a wild wolf lurking in the shadows, poised to leap at any moment and tear apart the warm atmosphere of the room.
But just as those sharp, narrowed eyes were about to pierce through the door, something crossed his mind. And in the blink of an eye, the brightness in his gaze dimmed.
His frown deepened, and the veins at his temple throbbed visibly—evidence of the inner turmoil he was desperately trying to contain.
He stared through the gap at the man who now stood before her—his posture slightly tilted toward her, their movements intimate, unspoken. A quiet declaration of what they were to each other.
For the first time in his life, Lu Sifang felt the urge to run.
Five years.
There had been a full five years between him and Song Yuhan—a chasm neither of them could cross.
And during those five years… this man had always been with her.
Without him, she seemed to have lived even better.
He had no right to be angry—much less jealous.
At this very moment, he was the true outsider.
Not just in this hotel, not just in this room—but in her life. He had always been the extra one. The one she never truly chose.
All along, it had just been wishful thinking on his part.
“It’s so cold in here,” the man said, frowning. “I really should’ve insisted you stay with me.”
Worried about the man hiding in the closet, Song Yuhan’s heart pounded anxiously, but her face remained composed. She smiled gently and shook her head, obedient and well-mannered.
“No need. This place is close to my work. Besides, I won’t be staying long.”
The man looked regretful but didn’t push.
Tension made her voice tremble slightly. “Why did you suddenly come to Zhonggang?”
Hearing the question, the man paused slightly as he opened the lunchbox. A flicker of something dark flashed in his eyes.
Then, calmly, he adjusted the silver-rimmed glasses on his face, covering the hint of coldness that had surfaced—replacing it with his usual warm, affable smile.
“Just so happened I had a meeting here.”
Song Yuhan’s eyes widened. She was surprised. “Really? That’s exactly what you said last time…”
Inside the closet, Lu Sifang raised an eyebrow, his heart filled with disdain.
How clingy is this guy? Tagging along even for business trips… who’s he trying to guard her from?
The man clearly hadn’t expected her to say that. His smile froze slightly, and his gaze dimmed.
“What? You don’t want to see me?” His voice was a little hoarse, the words escaping without thought.
“No, I was just surprised, that’s all…”
He stared at her for a long moment, until he was sure she wasn’t lying. Only then did his smile return. He resumed wiping down the utensils for her, though the words that followed were oddly suggestive:
“You’ve changed. You used to cling to me all the time.”
Inside the closet, someone’s fist clenched tight.
Used to? How far back is this guy talking…?
Song Yuhan didn’t respond, but the man seemed to sense something off in the air.
Behind his glasses, his long, narrow eyes blinked slowly, and he stole a subtle glance in the direction of the wardrobe.
For just a second, his scholarly demeanor vanished—replaced by something sharp and menacing, as if the polite façade had been ripped away, revealing the wolf beneath.
But only for a second.
Soon, he was smiling again, straightening his tie with deliberate leisure, the elegance and gentleness returning to his tone.
“It’s getting late. You have work tomorrow. Eat and rest early.”
He lowered his shadowed gaze, gave that instruction, and made as if to leave.
Seeing that he was finally going, hope ignited in Song Yuhan’s eyes. She looked up at him with visible relief.
“I’ll walk you out.”
The man nodded and began heading toward the door—only to pause suddenly when he passed by the closet.
“Oh, right.”
His abrupt stop caught Song Yuhan completely off guard. She was following closely and smacked her forehead straight into his back. The pain made her wince and clutch her head.
The man didn’t hesitate. He immediately bent down toward her, his face full of concern, his fingers brushing her forehead with practiced ease as he examined the injury. Every movement between them looked far too intimate.
And that scene played out right in front of Lu Sifang’s eyes.
It was so perfectly timed, so on-the-nose, that Lu Sifang couldn’t help but suspect the man had already discovered him… and was doing this on purpose to show dominance.
Normally, Lu Sifang would’ve lost his temper in a heartbeat.
When he saw that man’s hand reaching toward her, his first instinct had been to rush out, fists swinging, and publicly drag her into his arms like he had every right to do so.
But reason stopped him cold.
He no longer had that right—not anymore.
He could no longer act recklessly before her like he used to. So instead, he clenched his fists and stayed still, forced to watch her be close with another man.
It stung. And it left him bitter.
“I’m fine,” Song Yuhan said, rubbing her head and waving off the concern, while subtly taking a step back to increase the distance between them.
“You hit your head pretty hard—how could you be fine?”
The man didn’t buy it. He tried to get closer again, and when he saw her pulling away, his warmth vanished. His face darkened completely.
She struggled but couldn’t break free. He grabbed her wrist and lifted her hand to reveal a red mark on her forehead.
Just as he was moving in again—
Crack.
A sudden, faint sound of joints popping echoed from inside the wardrobe.
Both of them turned toward it instantly.
Song Yuhan’s eyes flew wide open.
Oh no!
She quickly glanced at the man’s expression.
But he didn’t immediately confront her. Instead, he turned back slowly, his gaze pinning her down. His grip on her wrist tightened sharply, drawing a gasp of pain.
“Hss—! That hurts!”
“Well, better to hurt now than later,” the man said, his voice suddenly cold and cutting. “Better than getting bitten by some stray mutt out there… and coming back crying to me.”
His eyes—always so gentle—were now filled with a bone-deep chill, and it made her shiver.
The pain in her wrist left her unable to say a single word.
The next moment, a lazy, disdainful voice drifted out from inside the closet:
“A stray mutt outside is still better… than a big bad wolf at home.”