Let Her Lose Control - Chapter 11

Su Ningyue thought she was hallucinating.

 

Outside the home, Su Ningshang was the respected President Su, who had single-handedly propelled Huachen Entertainment to an unshakeable position in the entertainment industry. Even brands that ordinary people could only dream of had to show her deference.

 

Compared to Jiang Jinsui’s disbelief that Su Yun would be jealous of Bian Xiu over a kissing scene, Su Ningyue found it even harder to believe that the composed and powerful Su Ningshang would lower herself so much as to say, in such a vulnerable tone, “She doesn’t like me.”

 

The words carried the helplessness and bitterness of unrequited love.

 

Standing outside the door, Su Ningyue heard Su Yun and Su Ningshang’s voices drifting through the crack, each sentence confirming that Su Ningshang had indeed spoken those words.

 

So, who was this person who didn’t like Su Ningshang?

 

At the same moment, Su Yun asked the same question inside the room: “Who is the person you like? Is it Shu Xuan? Did you deliberately leave that mark on your shoulder to test her reaction?”

 

Su Ningshang’s voice sounded utterly weary: “Mom, please don’t ask.”

 

Footsteps approached the door from inside, and Su Ningyue frantically released the handle.

 

Just as she reached the staircase, Su Ningshang’s door swung open. Leaving now would seem too deliberate, so Su Ningyue pretended to turn back casually, as if reacting instinctively to the sound.

 

Su Ningshang approached, the overhead light casting a long shadow that stretched to Su Ningyue’s feet. “Weren’t you going to watch a movie? What are you doing here?”

 

“My aunt in Sweden called for New Year’s, and now it’s Sister Jinsui’s turn to take the call. My phone was taken away, and I wanted to reply to my friends, so I came out to look for my tablet.”

 

With that, Su Ningyue gestured toward the other end of the second-floor hallway, where Jiang Jinsui was pushing open the door to the home theater.

 

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back now.”

 

Suddenly, she heard Su Ningshang call out softly, “Ningning.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Is Dad’s movie any good?”

 

Su Ningyue replied, “It’s alright. Want to join me?”

 

It was just a casual question—she rarely saw Su Ningshang watch movies. To her surprise, Su Ningshang agreed. “Sure.”

 

The home theater remained dimly lit. The movie had just reached a minor climax, punctuated by the sharp crack of a gunshot. As Su Ningyue entered, she stumbled, and Su Ningshang quickly steadied her.

 

“Are you okay?” Su Ningshang asked.

 

Su Ningyue swiftly withdrew her hand. “I’m fine.”

 

“Sister, Xiao Yue, come here!” Jiang Jinsui, visibly shaken, huddled in a corner with a pillow. “Mom just called Dad away. He didn’t warn me this part was so terrifying!”

 

Su Ningyue naturally sat down next to Jiang Jinsui, softened her voice, and asked, “Isn’t this a police thriller? How did it scare you so much?”

 

“Back then, censorship wasn’t as strict, so they could make the plot more exaggerated. When that murderer appeared just now, I felt like he was even scarier than the ghosts in horror movies today,” Jiang Jinsui said, handing Su Ningyue a cushion. “Sister, do you want one too?”

 

Su Ningshang took a cushion as well. The film progressed, showing Bian Xiu’s police officer character discovering similar scratch marks on his younger brother’s body—marks he had left on the murderer during their previous encounter.

 

Jiang Jinsui sighed, “This murderer doesn’t seem so terrifying in daylight. If Dad had played this role, I probably wouldn’t have been so scared.”

 

Su Ningyue nudged Jiang Jinsui with her shoulder. “If that had happened, there might have been fans protesting the murderer’s innocence when the movie came out.”

 

Jiang Jinsui pondered this, imagining the fan behavior of today’s top celebrities in the Entertainment Industry. She realized it was entirely plausible.

 

Just then, her phone lit up. After reading the message, Jiang Jinsui leaned back in despair. “Xiao Yue, whatever you do, don’t choose a highly technical major in college. You’ll end up losing your freedom. Look at me—I’ve only been on vacation for two hours, and I already have to go back and revise my thesis.”

 

Su Ningyue giggled and hugged Jiang Jinsui. “Good luck! Our nation’s space technology needs you.”

 

Jiang Jinsui sighed and left.

 

The door to the screening room opened and closed, leaving only Su Ningshang and Su Ningyue inside.

 

When Jiang Jinsui was there, Su Ningyue had chatted with her non-stop. But after Jiang Jinsui left, the air in the room seemed to thin, and Su Ningyue grew restless.

 

She kept feeling like someone was watching her. When she turned her head, she found Su Ningshang’s gaze fixed intently on the screen.

 

On Su Ningyue’s third glance, Su Ningshang asked, “What’s wrong?”

 

Su Ningyue quickly shook her head. “Nothing. I just felt like someone was watching me. Maybe I’m just spooked by the murderer in the movie.”

 

Su Ningshang studied her thoughtfully for a moment before settling into the armchair Jiang Jinsui had just vacated and draping an arm around Su Ningyue’s shoulders. “Scared?”

 

His breath brushed against her ear, the closeness making Su Ningyue flinch and shift away uncomfortably. She quickly changed the subject. “I rarely see you watch movies. I thought you didn’t like them.”

 

The screen’s glow illuminated Su Ningshang’s shoulder, the shifting colors dancing in his eyes like a flickering ember. “Because I watch so many for work,” he replied. “When I’m off, I don’t feel like watching them as much.”

 

Due to her work, she had to watch and analyze so many films. When entertainment became tied to money, even her most cherished hobbies gradually lost their appeal.

 

Su Ningyue asked, “So, when I start working, should I choose a job related to my interests, or avoid them altogether?”

 

“Choose what you love,” Su Ningshang replied without hesitation. “At least you won’t regret missing out on it.”

 

Su Ningyue’s eyelashes fluttered twice before she asked, “But what if I choose what I love, only to find that I’ve lost my passion for it? What if I can never enjoy that interest again?”

 

Su Ningshang stared intently at Su Ningyue, her expression unreadable. Su Ningyue’s palms were clammy with sweat.

 

After a moment, Su Ningshang said, “Then perhaps it wasn’t your true passion to begin with.”

 

The film transitioned from the warm domestic scene to the climax—a brutal murder case. Su Ningyue had seen this movie before; it was here that Bian Xiu’s undercover police officer finally confronted the killer, only to discover it was his own younger brother.

 

The ensuing scenes were filled with graphic violence. Su Ningyue couldn’t bear to watch. She picked up the phone Jiang Jinsui had returned to her, intending to find a casual game to pass the time.

 

Just then, Su Ningshang suggested, “Let’s switch to another movie.”

 

Su Ningyue, who had been struggling to find an excuse, immediately agreed, “Okay, I’ll look for the remote.”

 

The remote for the projector screen was nowhere to be found. Su Ningyue patted around the surrounding sofas and then crawled onto the carpet in front to search.

 

Su Ningshang sat behind her. After a while, Su Ningyue suddenly turned around, as if remembering something, and warned, “Don’t you dare come over here!”

 

Realizing Su Ningyue’s concern, Su Ningshang couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

 

The sound of her laughter made Su Ningyue’s ears tingle. She rubbed them briefly before turning back to searching for the remote.

 

Finally, she found it beneath the screen, carelessly tossed there by whoever had last used it.

 

“How about I pick a genre you don’t usually watch?” Su Ningyue suggested.

 

Standing close by, Su Ningshang could smell the sweet scent of daisies clinging to the ends of Su Ningyue’s hair. Her expression remained relaxed as she replied, “There aren’t many movies I haven’t seen.”

 

Su Ningyue clicked into the animated film channel. Before Su Ningshang could object, she had already swiftly selected Bear Infested. “You probably haven’t seen this, right?”

 

Cartoonish figures peeked out from the screen, and the lights in the home theater brightened accordingly.

 

Their gazes met, the flickering light from the projector casting deep shadows in Su Ningshang’s eyes. Su Ningyue tilted her head, waiting for her sister’s answer.

 

Su Ningshang reminded her softly, “We saw this movie together during the Spring Festival. Remember? The restaurant you chose had a long wait, so we missed our original movie time and this was the only one with tickets left.”

 

Su Ningyue turned her head, recalling the scene from the movie playing on the screen. A look of embarrassment crossed her face. “Then should I switch to another Bear Infested movie?”

 

Surely adults don’t watch every single Bear Infested movie, right?

 

Su Ningshang shook her head. “This one’s fine. They’re all the same anyway.”

 

So she’s not interested.

 

Su Ningyue murmured, “Oh,” and turned back to watch Bald Qiang chop down trees.

 

As Bald Qiang attempted to chop down another tree, Su Ningyue finally recovered from her earlier eavesdropping-induced turmoil.

 

She glanced at Su Ningshang, the question she wanted to ask rising to her lips, only to be swallowed back down.

 

Sensing her hesitation, Su Ningshang’s gaze flicked over. “Something on your mind?”

 

Her voice, a shade lower than usual, seemed to take on the cinematic quality of the soundproofed room.

 

Su Ningyue nodded, then shook her head, composing herself before asking, “After New Year’s, will you still be traveling so frequently for work?”

 

Su Ningshang propped her head up with one hand, chuckled softly, and replied, “What if I am?”

 

Su Ningyue found the atmosphere unbearable. Even with the animated bear’s laughter filling the room, the tension was suffocating.

 

Just as she was about to say, “I was just asking,” Su Ningshang cut her off. “I’m the one being forced to travel. Why are you rolling your eyes?”

 

Su Ningyue remained silent.

 

She couldn’t exactly ask, “How many people are you going to sleep with on these trips?” or “No wonder the person you like doesn’t like you back.”

 

Su Ningyue stood up, tossed the remote at Su Ningshang, and stormed out of the room.

 

During dinner, an unfamiliar guest arrived—a beautiful calico cat that rubbed gently against Su Ningyue’s leg. Startled at first, Su Ningyue bent down to stroke its forehead once she realized it was just a cat.

 

“Whose cat is this?”

 

Jiang Jinsui looked apologetic. “My friend and her boyfriend went on vacation and asked me to look after her cat for a few days. I thought I’d locked it in the bedroom, but it must have snuck out.”

 

Bian Xiu couldn’t help but laugh. “Xiao Jin, you probably didn’t close the window properly, did you?”

 

Jiang Jinsui was shocked. “The second floor is so high! Can it really jump down from there?”

 

Su Ningyue realized Jiang Jinsui had never interacted with cats before and burst into laughter. “Don’t worry about the second floor. It could fall from even higher without getting hurt.”

 

Having had its fill of affection from Su Ningyue, the calico cat, perhaps annoyed by her frequent petting, flicked its tail haughtily and leaped to Su Ningshang’s feet.

 

“It seems it likes you too, Sister,” Jiang Jinsui remarked.

 

Su Ningshang glanced down at the cat at her feet, then discreetly shifted her foot away, her voice as composed as ever. “Xiao Jin, come take it.”

 

Su Ningyue recalled how Su Ningshang had rejected her pleas to keep a cat before. “You’re busy with school—how would you have time to care for it? Would you be the one raising it, or me?”

 

When Su Ningyue persisted, Su Ningshang would retort, “I can only care for one. Choose: me or the cat.”

 

Su Ningyue had been forced to concede.

 

The family ultimately spent New Year’s Eve at home.

 

Jiang Jinsui sat with a laptop, watching the New Year’s Eve gala with her family. Su Yun and Bian Xiu offered casual commentary on the performers’ skills until midnight struck, when the family exchanged New Year’s greetings.

 

Though not as lively as going out for New Year’s Eve, the evening was unusually warm and cozy.

 

As Su Ningyue was about to head upstairs, Su Yun suddenly called out, “Xiao Yue, Xiao Jin mentioned you’re planning to spend the winter break with her in Sweden for the New Year. Has your school finalized the vacation dates yet?”

 

Su Ningyue had assumed her aunt was just being polite, thinking she’d only stay for a few days. How had it turned into spending the entire New Year in Sweden?

 

She glanced at Jiang Jinsui for confirmation. “Did Aunt really invite us to spend New Year’s there?”

 

Jiang Jinsui nodded, typed the last line, closed her laptop, and said, “Don’t you remember? After you missed your flight, Aunt invited you to Sweden for New Year’s, and you agreed. She brought it up again just now because she’s worried you might feel lonely going alone, so she asked me to go with you.”

 

Su Ningyue belatedly recalled the conversation and instinctively looked at Su Ningshang.

 

Su Ningshang was already getting up and didn’t meet her gaze as he continued upstairs.

 

Relieved, Su Ningyue said, “I think I remember something like that, but the winter break for senior year might be short. I’m not sure when we’ll be off.”

 

Jiang Jinsui was incredibly considerate. “Then let’s book your flight once your vacation dates are confirmed. If you’re busy with studying, bring your homework along! You can experience memorizing vocabulary words inside Santa’s sleigh!”

 

She went on to vividly describe the amusing sight of reindeer pulling the sleigh, painting such a vivid picture in Su Ningyue’s mind that she couldn’t resist chatting with Jiang Jinsui for a few more minutes.

 

By the time she went upstairs, it was already half past midnight.

 

Pushing open the bedroom door, Su Ningyue found all the lights on. Su Ningshang stood with her back to her, holding a framed photo she had taken from the cabinet.

 

It was a picture of them together, taken when Su Ningshang came to pick her up after her middle school graduation.

 

There were countless such photos, stretching back to Su Ningyue’s earliest childhood. Su Ningshang had been present for nearly every significant moment in her life. As Su Ningyue reflected on the milestones of her life, Su Ningshang’s presence seemed to loom in every memory.

 

Gazing at the cabinet overflowing with photos, Su Ningyue’s voice softened. “What are you doing here?”

 

Su Ningshang placed the frame back in the cabinet without a word, then pressed Su Ningyue against the display case and kissed her urgently.

 

The kiss was so sudden, leaving Su Ningyue no time to react. The glass surface of the cabinet reflected their intertwined figures, their bodies pressed intimately together.

 

When the kiss finally broke, Su Ningyue saw just how dark Su Ningshang’s expression was.

 

“You were deliberately hiding this from me, weren’t you? You still want to go to Sweden, you still want to leave.” Su Ningshang gripped Su Ningyue’s hand, forcing her to meet her gaze. “If Xiao Jin hadn’t mentioned it, would I have been the last to know again?”

 

Her voice was sharp, her usual composure shattered. “When would I have found out this time? Before you boarded the plane? Or after you were already gone?”

 

Su Ningyue opened her mouth to explain, but the unevenness of her breathing prevented her from speaking immediately. She had anticipated Su Ningshang’s displeasure, but she hadn’t expected such fury.

 

She tried to explain, “I was just being polite to Aunt at the time. I never imagined she would bring it up to the family…”

 

“Your household registration has already been transferred to her address, granting you permanent residency. After you go to Sweden, you don’t plan on coming back at all, do you?”

 

Su Ningshang lowered her head and bit down on Su Ningyue’s exposed collarbone.

 

Su Ningyue cried out in pain, but mindful of the others in the house, she clamped her mouth shut, stifling the sound.

 

Perhaps Su Ningyue’s compliance pleased Su Ningshang, who released her and gently rubbed the mark on Su Ningyue’s neck. The tooth marks gradually faded, leaving behind a patch of red.

 

When Su Ningyue looked up, she saw visible bloodshot veins in Su Ningshang’s eyes. “Does it hurt?”

 

Unsure what Su Ningshang wanted to hear, Su Ningyue dared neither nod nor shake her head.

 

Su Ningshang took Su Ningyue’s hand and pressed it against her left chest. “But I hurt too. Your aunt—that Swedish aunt—you only met her once, yet you trust her so completely, treating her like family. What am I to you?”

 

Su Ningshang rarely lost control of her emotions. Even when she crossed boundaries with Su Ningyue in the past, she had always maintained her composure.

 

Su Ningyue reached out to Su Ningshang, trying to calm her down. “No, that’s not true. Let me explain. I didn’t mean it that way. I never intended to stay in Sweden, and I’ve never stopped considering you family. I was just going to spend the New Year with Sister Jinsui. She’ll come back, and I’ll come back too. You have to believe me.”

 

Su Ningshang gripped Su Ningyue’s hand, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, seeming to regain some composure. “What proof do you have that you’ll return?”

 

Su Ningyue offered a reason: “Of course I’ll come back for the college entrance exams.”

 

But as soon as the words left her lips, she realized the flaw in her logic. If she truly cared so much about the exams, she wouldn’t have secretly applied for immigration behind Su Ningshang’s back, nor would she have booked a flight to Sweden while Su Ningshang was away on a business trip to Yancheng.

 

What she could think of, Su Ningshang could think of too. But in the brief moment, she couldn’t come up with a more convincing explanation.

 

As expected, Su Ningshang didn’t believe her. Her narrow eyes narrowed further as they swept over Su Ningyue’s loosely draped clothes. “Aren’t you the one who’s most afraid of others finding out about our current relationship?” she asked softly.

 

Su Ningyue sensed danger and instinctively retreated along the cabinet, only to be abruptly lifted into Su Ningshang’s arms.

 

She gasped softly, but couldn’t resist. Her already loosened bathrobe fell open, revealing the pale skin of her chest.

 

“What are you doing?” The room was warm from the air conditioning, so she didn’t feel cold even with her clothes undone. Yet Su Ningyue’s entire body tensed uncontrollably as she tried to decipher Su Ningshang’s earlier words, unable to guess her intentions.

 

Su Ningshang picked up her phone, her gaze fixed on Su Ningyue on the bed. “Take them off yourself, or shall I help you?” she asked, giving her a choice.

 

The moment the camera was pointed at her, Su Ningyue vaguely guessed Su Ningshang’s intention and quickly pulled her clothes together.

 

Su Ningshang didn’t stop her, approaching slowly as she spoke. “I’ll show my face, but you don’t have to. Once you return from Sweden, no one else will ever see this.”

 

Su Ningyue never imagined Su Ningshang had this in mind. Yet, Su Ningshang was allowing her to hide her face. If she just had the nerve to deny it outright, what threat could such a photo possibly pose?

 

But Su Ningshang’s expression and movements made it clear: the photo would be taken, no matter what.

 

Su Ningyue felt like that little kitten Su Ningshang had pushed aside during dinner, lying there helpless, her limbs restrained.

 

“You said… I don’t have to show my face?”

 

Su Ningshang’s slender fingers traced Su Ningyue’s cheek with deliberate slowness, ruthlessly shattering her naive hope. “But Ningning, you know I want more than just a photo of you in your clothes.”

 

Su Ningyue’s face flushed crimson as she clutched her collar. “Aren’t you afraid the person you like will see this?”