Liu Tingsong, let’s break up

Silence fell, faint light unable to pierce the raised windows, the narrow stairwell swallowing everything in darkness.

Xu Fengluan’s body stiffened, her prolonged anger and breakdown keeping her emotions taut, leaving her mind blank when the sudden event hit.

Unconsciously, she raised her arms, catching a faint scent at her nose. Their time together had molded their bodies to fit perfectly, as if they’d never parted.

But as the blankness faded, memories flooded back, anger and reason screaming to push away.

What was Liu Tingsong doing? How dare she?!

Xu Fengluan grabbed the arms around her waist, yanking Liu forward.

Four words flashed in her mind.

*Old tricks again.*

Yes, Liu Tingsong thought she was a gullible dog, stirred by a trending post, standing at her door as if that was enough to show submission, expecting Xu Fengluan to wag her tail and follow. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

How dare she?!

Why should Xu Fengluan be manipulated, falling into her traps repeatedly?

She shoved Liu away, turning to open her door.

Before Liu could follow, she slammed it shut.

*—Bang!*

The sound shook the old building, startling vines on the wall. A prey caught in a web flinched, escaping, leaving a furious predator.

Xu Fengluan stood inside, chest heaving with rage, uncontrollable.

How dare she?!

Liu Tingsong toyed with her, not even bothering with new tricks, certain she’d soften, yield.

Her reddened eyes darkened, cheeks and neck flushed, temples throbbing, her fury palpable.

Once again, she saw her own weakness. A single rumor—true or false—sent her spiraling, racing to Liu’s door, shouting, pounding, even using Liu’s undeleted fingerprint to unlock it, ignoring her own boundaries.

She was a fool, played repeatedly, yet falling for the same ploy.

Xu Fengluan spun, pressing the handle, yanking the door open without pause.

Liu, still outside, hadn’t reacted before being dragged in.

Stumbling, Liu was pushed back, crashing against the door.

Another loud thud—downstairs, someone cursed—but Xu Fengluan ignored it, stepping forward, pinning Liu, trapping her in her arms.

Unlike before, Liu had no room to resist, fully subdued.

Xu Fengluan’s bony ribs pressed against her, like a blunt knife. Her bent knee pinned Liu’s thigh, a slight move sparking pain, not to mention her gripped wrist and throttled neck.

The once-sharp but harmless dog bared its fangs, controlling Liu in an instant.

“What do you want?!”

Her low growl, laced with fury, was both question and curse.

“Liu Tingsong, haven’t you played enough? Tired of your revenge act, now what role are you playing? How should I play along?”

“If you love acting, there’s a pile of scripts out there. Pick any role—former queen in some movie, fans would flock. Play as wild as you want, make money, gain fame. Why mess with me?”

“Or do you think I’m a fool, so stupid you can trick me repeatedly, toy with me!”

Liu didn’t respond, her shattered eyes carrying sorrow, as if denying but saying nothing.

Each unanswered question was a spark, igniting a mountain of dynamite. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

The hand on her neck tightened, fingers pressing her pulse, thumb constricting. A few seconds could bring suffocating pain.

The room was unlit, faint light spilling from the side, blurring vision. Xu Fengluan loomed, seeing tears in Liu’s eyes.

Liu seemed unable to bear it, her raised chin and neck a fragile line, her once-clear eyes now hazy, scattered breaths and focus betraying her pitiful state.

But Xu Fengluan didn’t soften, tightening her grip, feeling icy skin under her palm. Liu’s thin coat revealed a silk nightdress, too light for early autumn, especially after standing there who-knows-how-long.

A ploy for pity.

Xu Fengluan saw through it, refusing to relent, pushing further.

Liu didn’t resist, her free hand twitching then falling, clutching the door’s edge.

Attitude.

Xu released her neck, and Liu, gasping, bent forward, legs weak.

She looked wretched, tears falling, hair sticking to her cheeks, gasping and coughing.

Before she could recover, the loosened hand pressed again.

Her head hit the door, pain mixing with oxygen deprivation, nausea rising, her body protesting.

Yet Liu didn’t fight, even abandoning resistance, her free hand grabbing Xu Fengluan’s clothes, leaning fully into her.

Her vacant eyes whitened, stars scattering. Past torments faded under this extreme pain, sparking a twisted relief of thoughtlessness.

Like a guilty soul whipping herself to ease her conscience.

She struggled to look up at Xu Fengluan.

Her sharp features held no softness, green eyes reflecting Liu’s face, not with past devotion but with hatred, rejection, estrangement.

*Don’t look at me like that…*

Panic surged, she tried to speak, but couldn’t form syllables, her grip on Xu’s clothes tightening.

*Don’t look at me like that…*

Tears streamed, her clear eyes reduced to helpless weakness.

She seemed to hear Xu Fengluan call her, repeating her name with hatred, like thorny vines binding them, piercing flesh, crushing bones.

The grip loosened, tightened, tormenting her, breaths abandoned, only dry heaves remaining.

“Liu Tingsong, you…”

Her trembling legs buckled, pinned against the door.

“Liu Tingsong, you think I won’t do anything?”

“How many times will you repeat this trick?”

Her voice hoarsened with rage, veins bulging, “Liu Tingsong, planning to sleep with me and vanish by morning again?”

“How many years this time?”

Liu shook her head, a faint motion denying it.

Xu Fengluan released her, pinning both wrists above her head.

Trembling with anger, she gritted, “Five, six, ten years?”

“You think running works, time erases everything?”

“Ten years later, when I let it go, you’ll waltz back guilt-free?”

Liu’s chest heaved, shaking her head endlessly.

Xu Fengluan didn’t buy it, voice halting, angrier, “Or never come back?”

*No, it’s not.*

Liu repeated inwardly, lips trembling.

“How dare you?!”

They stood closer, yet felt further apart.

“How dare you toy with me?” Xu Fengluan stared, eyes full of doubt.

“What am I to you? A well-trained bedmate? Your revenge target?”

“Was your love ever real?”

“Were your vows real?”

“Liu Tingsong, which of your words were true, which false?” Her questions sounded like accusations.

She had no trust left.

Staring, she said, “I’m giving you a chance to explain. Tell me.”

Her cold tone slowed, heavy, “Tell me you had even a shred of sincerity.”

She didn’t notice her trembling voice, laced with pleading.

“Tell me.”

She was a discarded dog, tantrum spent, desperate to know if Liu ever cared. One word, and she’d find a thousand reasons to forgive.

But Liu’s lips moved, only shaking her head, tears soaking their clothes.

Xu Fengluan closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, her thin frame shaking.

Her grip on Liu’s wrists loosened, stepping back, releasing her.

“Go.”

Head low, defeated, “Go wherever. Just go.”

Stay out of her sight, go anywhere.

The dog was letting go, not being abandoned.

Her last shred of reason held. Beneath her rebellious shell was a love-starved dog, remembering kindness despite ulterior motives, unable to truly harm Liu. A small punishment made her retreat, guilt rising.

“Go,” she said, utterly deflated.

Bitterness clogged her throat, but she forced out, “Liu Tingsong, we’re done.” @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

Five years ago, Liu left without a word. Now, Xu would end it clearly, no lingering hope or chance.

She turned, as decisively as she’d left Liu’s apartment.

She was dumping Liu Tingsong, not being discarded.

She told herself that.

She stepped forward, but Liu chased, hugging her tightly.

*No.*

Liu tried to speak, only panic and despair spilling out. “Break up” echoed like a death sentence.

*Baby, no.*

*No.*

*Please, don’t break up.*

*I’m sorry.*

Her pleas choked her, tears drenching Xu’s shirt.

But Xu Fengluan heard nothing, only feeling Liu’s clinginess, offering no explanation, thinking raw honesty would move her, just like before. But it was disastrous.

When Xu shared her painful childhood, neglectful elders, and confused growth, was Liu truly empathetic or mocking from a pedestal?

The motherly love Xu never had was once within Liu’s reach.

“Let me go,” Xu tried to suppress her thoughts.

Liu’s arms tightened.

“Let me go!” Unable to hold back, Xu yanked Liu’s hands, throwing her to the floor.

The thick carpet softened the fall.

Liu hit the ground, and Xu knelt, pinning her neck again. But this time, Liu didn’t let her continue, leaning up to kiss her lips.

*Please.*

*Don’t.*

Salty, scalding tears fell on Xu Fengluan’s lips, sliding along their contours.