Obsessive Pleasure - Chapter 3

Liang Yun sat in Chen Yang’s lounge, still nursing a cup of hot tea.

Nurses hurried back and forth outside the door. She occasionally glanced at the tightly closed entrance, wondering when Chen Yang might suddenly push the door open and walk in.

He seemed to be very busy. After leading her from the stairwell back to the lounge, he had simply instructed, “Wait for me here for a moment,” and then left with a nurse.

But why was she so obediently waiting here for him?

And what was she waiting for him to do next?

The total number of sentences they had ever exchanged was no more than five or six.

Despite her inner thoughts, Liang Yun remained primly seated on the sofa.

When Chen Yang opened the door and entered, she seemed startled, suddenly standing up rigidly, spilling some of the tea she held.

Seeing her intense reaction, he curled his lips into another smile. “Did I scare you?”

Not at all, Liang Yun stammered.

She was scared. From their first meeting to now, Chen Yang’s mere presence was always somewhat daunting, even though he hadn’t actually done anything.

He had just been kind enough to save her.

Want to grab some dinner? Do you have time?” Chen Yang took off his white work coat and slipped into a casual jacket. There’s a restaurant across the street that serves pretty decent home-style food.

Though phrased as a question, Liang Yun couldn’t detect any room for negotiation in his tone.

The restaurant was quiet and tastefully decorated, with few patrons. The tables were spaced far apart, ensuring excellent privacy even without a private room.

After they were seated, Chen Yang suddenly took out an empty medicine bottle, gave it a push, and slid it toward Liang Yun.

He said nothing.

She felt a slight embarrassment and looked up at him.

It must have fallen out sometime, and he had picked it up.

He, however, was completely unconcerned.

I wouldn’t advise stopping Xipumiao suddenly. It will exacerbate insomnia and anxiety, Chen Yang said, slowly wiping the edges and corners of the cutlery with a napkin. He was meticulous yet seemingly casual, missing nothing.

Today, it wasn’t time for a refill yet.

Liang Yun didn’t finish her sentence.

How could she continue to explain?

She had arbitrarily overdosed, leading to a greatly increased dependency. Any sensible doctor would refuse to give her a supplemental refill.

Don’t you remember me? Chen Yang suddenly jumped to an irrelevant question.

His tone was calm, but Liang Yun strangely detected an underlying hint of reproach.

“I do, of course. We met at the alumni social gathering last time,” Liang Yun replied, lowering her gaze slightly.

Chen Yang didn’t speak.

He gave her the feeling of a sun too brilliant to look at directly.

You also gave my business card to someone else,” Chen Yang spoke again. You can tell your friend that I’m not the right fit for her.

Liang Yun looked up at him in surprise, but quickly averted her gaze after only a few seconds.

This man’s assertiveness seemed to cast a halo around him; one glance was enough to make her uneasy.

It looked like her friend had indeed taken his card and contacted him.

But why did she have to be the messenger, talking about whether he was a “right fit” or not?

Now that she thought about it, Chen Yang had said something similar to her that night, mentioning that the guy who was courting her wasn’t a good match.

Go tell her yourself! I didn’t make her look for you, Liang Yun retorted, her cheeks flushed as she recalled fantasizing about him that night. Her tone had become awkwardly defensive.

Good, as long as you didn’t, Chen Yang said, narrowing his eyes slightly as he looked at her, seemingly satisfied with the answer.

He smoothly changed the subject afterward, not dwelling on the topic endlessly.

Chen Yang didn’t talk much, but he was always the one guiding the conversation.

Liang Yun gradually relaxed a little, chatting with him in a disjointed way.

In the middle of the meal, she took a call from her VP about the training program.

Liang Yun casually complained about her work for a couple of minutes, noticing that Chen Yang listened with interest but refrained from giving her unsolicited advice.

This made her feel very comfortable.

If he were like some other men she encountered at work, prone to lecturing or giving grand pronouncements, she would likely have clammed up immediately.

But Chen Yang didn’t. He just listened and smiled occasionally.

Liang Yun was what others considered a successful woman, constantly striving to stand out in the eyes of the world.

Because of this, she had built up a fortress around herself, allowing no one to approach or explore, and forbidding herself from crossing the boundaries she had set.

The word trust was barely visible in her lexicon.

The progression from mild depression to her current state was inseparable from her extreme lack of trust and security.

Now, facing Chen Yang, she felt a vague, inexplicable sense of reliance emerging; it was truly absurd.

After dinner, Chen Yang drove her home.

When the car stopped downstairs, he suddenly said, “I’ll have someone dispense a week’s worth of medication for you, but you need to take half the dose and make it last for two weeks. During this time, if you agree, I’ll also try other intervention methods with you. We’ll aim to stop the medication completely after two weeks.

Liang Yun had had a little beer during dinner, and her eyes now held a bit more sparkle.

Why should I trust you? she asked, her tone acquiring a trace of challenge under the influence of the alcohol. “Other doctors haven’t seen results in over a year. Saying two weeks isn’t, you’re just boasting?

The look in Chen Yang’s eyes darkened slightly. “Believe me or not, you know yourself.”

Give me your phone, Chen Yang said next.

Liang Yun was slightly taken aback, but she obediently took her phone out of her bag and handed it over.

The phone had a vibrant, bright green case.

It was like her perfectly masked exterior, hiding the secrets no one could see inside.

A passionate pretense, an enforced smile.

Chen Yang entered his number, called it, waited for his own phone in the storage compartment to light up, and then hung up.

“I’ll contact you when the medication is ready.

He got out of the car, walked to Liang Yun’s side, opened the door, and then leaned in to undo her seatbelt.

His entire frame shadowed her.

Liang Yun suddenly froze, her limbs still as if she were a stone sculpture. She remained rigid as he pressed the seatbelt buckle, only snapping out of it when Chen Yang finally asked her a question.

He asked, Don’t want to get out?

Liang Yun felt her cheeks instantly flush. She scrambled out of the car as if in flight and ran quickly toward the entrance of her apartment building.

A soft chuckle drifted from behind her.

Chen Yang: The warmhearted masses tell me you think I’m like the Sun? Not bad, not bad! I’m partial to any name that starts with a capital S!

Liang Yun: Oh, didn’t those same citizens mention that the sun is also sometimes called “Gong Gong,”  a Chinese mythological figure, also a homophone for “eunuch”?

Chen Yang unbuckled his belt with one hand.  You! Come here, come here! I promise I won’t.