Reborn As A Doomsday Villainess-Chapter 79: Go to hell

Qingran listened in silence, her chopsticks idly tapping against the rim of her bowl.

Feng Yizhou rarely spoke about his past, and when he did, it was never with much detail. Hearing him now, so matter-of-fact, she realized something—he wasn’t looking for sympathy. He wasn’t even angry about it anymore. He had accepted it, molded himself into who he was, and moved forward.

Unlike her, who still felt like she was grasping at shadows.

"I see," she muttered, setting her chopsticks down. "Then... do you ever regret leaving them behind?"

Yizhou tilted his head slightly, observing her. "Not for a second."

She inhaled slowly.

So firm. So decisive.

He had walked away from a family that suffocated him without looking back, while she... she couldn’t even piece together what hers had been like.

Her fingers curled slightly. "You’re lucky, you know?"

He raised a brow. "You think so?"

"Yeah," she said, her voice quieter now. "Even if it was a mess, you still have something to look back on. At least you know what your family was like. I don’t even have that."

Yizhou studied her for a moment before leaning forward, resting his arms on the table. "Would knowing really make a difference?"

Qingran looked at him, eyes narrowing slightly.

He continued, his tone calm but firm. "If you could remember everything about them—who they were, what they were like—would it change who you are now?"

Her breath hitched slightly, and she looked away. frёewebnoѵēl.com

Would it?

She liked to think it would. That if she could just remember, she’d find some kind of closure. Some missing piece that would make everything fall into place.

But...

Would it really matter? Would it bring them back?

Would it erase the years of emptiness?

She didn’t know.

Yizhou sighed, reaching across the table. His fingers lightly brushed against hers, drawing her attention back to him. "You have people around you now. Me. That Haoyu. The dumb cat you love so much. Even if your past is empty, your present isn’t."

Her fingers twitched beneath his touch.

Damn him. Damn him for always knowing what to say.

"Thank you.." she scratched her head as she retrieved her hand.

"Alright let’s have dinner, the food can’t waste.."

Yizhou didn’t comment on her sudden shift in tone, but the corner of his lips quirked up slightly. He picked up his chopsticks again, watching as Qingran did the same.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the occasional clink of utensils against plates filling the room.

Qingran wasn’t sure if it was because of the conversation or because she was finally hungry, but the food tasted better than she expected. Simple, nothing fancy, but warm. Filling.

Halfway through her meal, she glanced up and caught Yizhou watching her.

She narrowed her eyes. "What?"

He smirked. "You’re actually eating."

She scoffed. "Wasn’t that the whole point of dinner?"

"You weren’t eating properly before."

Qingran clicked her tongue, stabbing at her food with a little more force than necessary. "You sure talk a lot while eating."

He shrugged, unbothered, and took another bite.

For the first time in a while, it didn’t feel like they were constantly on edge. No bickering over nonsense, no smug remarks meant to get a rise out of the other. Just them. Eating. Existing.

It was... nice.

She shook off the thought, focusing back on her plate.

After they finished, Qingran stood up and started gathering the dishes, but Yizhou was faster, snatching the plates from her hands.

She frowned. "What are you doing?"

"You cooked," he said easily. "I’ll clean."

She blinked. "...You’re actually following kitchen rules?"

His lips twitched. "Surprised?"

"A little."

Yizhou chuckled, carrying the plates to the sink. Qingran watched him for a moment before shaking her head and stepping back.

She stretched, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease a little.

It was late. The house was quiet.

She thought about checking on Haoyu and the cats, but she figured they were fine. Lingquan would complain if anything happened.

Her gaze drifted back to Yizhou, who was rinsing the dishes with an almost lazy efficiency.

"Hey," she called.

He glanced over. "Hm?"

She hesitated for a second before speaking. "I meant it."

He raised a brow. "Meant what?"

"The thank you," she said simply. "For earlier."

Something flickered in his expression before he gave her a small nod. "I know."

Qingran hummed, crossing her arms. "Good."

With that, she turned and walked toward her room, not bothering to say goodnight.

Yizhou watched her go, a slow smirk tugging at his lips.

Qingran barely had time to react before Yizhou’s hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her back into his chest. She gasped, but the sound was swallowed instantly as his fingers tipped her chin up, his dark, smoldering gaze locking onto hers.

"You still owe me," he murmured, his voice a low, heated drawl.

Before she could snap at him, his lips crashed onto hers.

It wasn’t a soft, teasing kiss—it was deep, possessive, and scorching. His tongue slid past her parted lips without hesitation, tasting, claiming. He kissed her like he was starving, like he’d been waiting too damn long for this, and now he refused to hold back.

His grip on her waist tightened, pulling her flush against him. She could feel the hard planes of his chest against her softer frame, the warmth of his body seeping into her skin. He didn’t give her space to think, to breathe—he just took, deepening the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers in a wet, messy dance that sent shivers down her spine.

Qingran’s fingers twitched against his chest, caught between pushing him away and pulling him closer. Her body betrayed her first, melting into him as heat coiled low in her stomach.

When he finally pulled back, her lips were wet, swollen, and tingling. Yizhou smirked, his thumb swiping lazily over her lower lip, his gaze dark with satisfaction.

"That’s one," he rasped.

Qingran barely had time to catch her breath before his mouth crashed down again. This time, it was rougher, hungrier. His teeth scraped against her bottom lip before he sucked it into his mouth, his tongue pressing deeper, exploring every inch like he was memorizing her taste.

A low, satisfied hum rumbled in his chest as he tilted his head, kissing her harder, deeper—his lips moving against hers in a slow, intoxicating rhythm that had her knees weakening. His hand slid lower, gripping her waist, keeping her steady against him.

By the time he pulled away, Qingran was breathless, her pulse pounding in her ears. She stared at him, dazed, her lips still parted.

Yizhou licked his lips, his eyes gleaming with amusement and something far darker. "Now we’re even."

Qingran’s fists clenched, her entire body burning from head to toe.

"Go to hell," she growled, voice hoarse.

Yizhou only chuckled, his fingers trailing lazily over her hip before letting go. "Sweetheart, I’d drag you with me."

She turned and stormed off, determined to ignore the way her legs trembled and her heart raced like a traitor in her chest.

Damn him. Damn him and his wicked, sinful mouth.