Living Only For Myself: Make Those Who Hate Me Regret It-Chapter 167: Otherwise, What Is Zhou Mochen to Do?

Chapter 167: Chapter 167: Otherwise, What Is Zhou Mochen to Do?

Zhou Mochen had lost count of how many times he’d said, "You are mine."

Every time she heard it, Xu Su couldn’t help but get angry. She hated nothing more than people trying to tell her she belonged to someone.

She never thought that the boy who used to blush at the slightest teasing would one day hold her in his arms, staking his claim and insisting over and over that she belonged to him.

Xu Su remained stiff in his embrace, their bodies pressed close together.

Xi Zirong had no intention of hiding it, either.

Compared to his peers, he’d figured out what he wanted very early on.

And right now, what he wanted was for Xu Su to see him as a man, to let the girl he loved know that he desired her.

The girl in his arms was silent for too long. Xi Zirong slowly released her and couldn’t help but ask, "What’s wrong?"

’Is he finally done being in heat?’

Xu Su’s lips curled. She turned, pulled the door open, and gestured for him to leave. "I’m going to bed, Xi Zirong. I don’t want to have to keep repeating myself."

Even before they’d arrived, she had stressed it to him many times: once they got to her grandmother’s house, he was to keep his hands to himself. He needed to be careful not to stare at her all the time. He couldn’t let her grandmother’s side of the family find out she was in a relationship.

But it was only their first day here, and he had completely disregarded her words.

’Maybe I’ve always been too lenient with Xi Zirong?’

She knew she had a soft spot for him most of the time. Even when she was furious, the moment Xi Zirong put on a hurt expression, her resolve would falter.

She could tell he was insecure, so in their daily life, she was almost completely compliant. She let him hold her, let him kiss her. But it seemed none of that helped him relax.

On the contrary, it only made his possessiveness grow stronger by the day. By now, Xu Su was too tired to even be angry. Seeing Xi Zirong just standing there, as if he still had more to say, she reached out, shoved him out the door, and locked it before collapsing back onto her bed.

’Should we break up?’

’When should I bring it up?’

’If I bring up breaking up, will he cry again?’

The image of Xi Zirong squatting in a corner, crying, flashed through her mind, and again, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

She sighed and pulled her phone out from under the pillow. She had been too busy to look at it during the day. Sure enough, there were more than a dozen missed calls.

They were all from Zhou Mochen. There were over twenty unread text messages as well. She had hung up on him that morning; she could guess what the messages said and really didn’t have the patience to read them.

In the few minutes she spent looking at her phone, a text from Xi Zirong arrived. Xu Su didn’t open that one either.

Seeing the low battery notification, she swapped out the battery, then simply set the phone aside and closed her eyes to sleep.

Perhaps because her mind was racing, Xu Su tossed and turned, unable to sleep. After what felt like an eternity of restlessness, she finally drifted off.

When she regained consciousness, her body felt weightless, as if it were floating.

A familiar room, familiar furnishings, familiar people...

Staring at the man and woman asleep on the bed... Xu Su’s mind suddenly cleared.

’This is... Beijing, 2019. Our marital home?’

The only difference was that now she was an Apiao. She was a spirit, floating in mid-air, staring blankly as Zhou Mochen held her own body in his arms.

He seemed to be sleeping fitfully, clutching the person in his arms. Even in sleep, his grip, which would occasionally loosen, would tighten again from time to time. The circles under his eyes were dark and bruised.

Xu Su almost didn’t recognize him. This haggard man with half-white hair, a scruffy beard, and lips so chapped they looked like he hadn’t had a drop of water in ages—this couldn’t be the same dashing, vibrant Zhou Mochen she knew.

’Were the scenes from my dreams actually real?’

Zhou Mochen really had stayed by her comatose side until his hair turned white...

Even in her soul form, Xu Su couldn’t help but frown.

’...It would be a lie to say I wasn’t moved at all.’

No matter how much resentment lay between her and Zhou Mochen, seeing him in this state, it was impossible for her to remain completely cold-hearted.

This was Zhou Mochen, a man of immense pride... Even at his most humbled before her, he had never looked like this, as if half his soul had been ripped away.

’So... have I returned from my senior year of high school?’

’If I’ve returned just like that, what will happen to my other self?’

Despite not having a physical body, Xu Su felt an unbearable headache coming on.

’I don’t understand what’s going on. I just suddenly came back. Does that mean my body back there will fall into a coma now?’

As her thoughts churned, the man on the bed stirred. He was already a light sleeper, and now, as if startled by something, his eyes flew open.

The next second, Xu Su watched as Zhou Mochen pulled her comatose self tighter into his arms. He first reached out to check for her breath, and his tightly furrowed brow eased slightly only after he confirmed she was still breathing.

He gazed down at the woman in his arms for a long moment, then suddenly lowered his head, his lips covering her paper-pale ones. By the time he pulled away, he had kissed them back to a rosy hue.

Xu Su: .....

This was the first time she had been a spectator to herself being... taken liberties with. It was truly difficult to describe her current feelings.

"Morning, Susu..."

Xu Su heard the almost inaudible whisper.

Zhou Mochen’s voice was unbelievably hoarse. He kept his head buried in the crook of her neck, refusing to lift it, radiating a vulnerability she had never seen in him before.

Xu Su floated in mid-air, watching silently for a long time. She felt she had to do something. Finally, she made a tentative move.

She drifted closer to her own body, trying to return to her physical form and wake up.

Again and again, she drew near, only to be repelled, pushed away. After trying for a long time, Xu Su floated dejectedly in the air, forced to accept the truth.

She had truly become an Apiao. She couldn’t go back.

She could only float in the air, watching as Zhou Mochen cared for her like a walking corpse.

During the day, a residential medical team would perform a routine examination, repeating the same results over and over.

She watched as the doctors told Zhou Mochen the same thing every day after their examination: his wife’s vital signs were excellent, there were no signs of illness. She was simply asleep.

She was simply asleep...

Xu Su lost track of how many days she’d been following Zhou Mochen. She realized he never even left the house. He had moved a desk specifically into their bedroom.

Most of the day, Zhou Mochen would work at the desk, glancing over at her on the bed from time to time. Every day, he would spend two hours massaging her limbs.

He turned her over every hour, and he never let anyone else help with bathing her or changing her clothes.

Xu Su didn’t know how long she had been unconscious, but looking at her own undeniable beauty in the sickbed... Zhou Mochen had truly taken very good care of her.

She was as beautiful as ever, like the Sleeping Beauty from a fairy tale.

But he had forgotten to take care of himself. The man who had once been so conscious of their five-year age gap now looked more than ten years older.

He should have been in the prime of his life, yet he looked like an old man on the verge of death, his very essence drained away.

From the initial stirring of emotion at seeing him this way to the now unspeakable heartache she felt, Xu Su began to try once more to return to her body.

’I have to wake up. No matter what, I have to wake up.’

’I could go back to yelling at him, we could go back to being a resentful couple—it doesn’t matter. The point is, I have to wake up.’

’Otherwise, what would happen to Zhou Mochen?’

’What would happen to Zhou Mochen...?’