Chapter 40: Passive-Aggressive

The way the light shifted across his face was truly unsettling.

Footsteps from those who had come upstairs drew closer.

Shang Moting and Lin Ting reached out simultaneously—one with a hand, the other with a leg—to pull the door shut. The room plunged back into darkness. Lin Ting instinctively gripped Shang Moting’s hand tightly, perhaps fearing he might resist.

Shang Moting stepped back slightly. Lin Ting let go. He noticed the gloves she was wearing; she, in turn, noticed his.

"What are you doing here?" Shang Moting asked in a low voice. His tone was stern, tinged with a flicker of barely detectable wariness.

Lin Ting did not answer. Instead, she whispered a question of her own: "And what is CEO Shang doing here?"

As soon as she finished speaking, the footsteps outside stopped right at the door. Lin Ting immediately held her breath. Shang Moting also turned his gaze toward the entrance.

The person outside knocked first, then called out, "Yingying, are you in there?"

It was a man’s voice. He sounded slightly hoarse and slurred, likely from drinking, though not to the point of intoxication.

Lin Ting rubbed her fingertips together, already prepared to knock the man unconscious the moment he stepped inside. Sensing her lethal intent, Shang Moting took off his gloves.

The room was not small, but it was too sparse, furnished mostly for guests. There was nowhere to hide. Moreover, the game they were playing involved searching for people, specifically in places where someone might be concealed. With the windows sealed, their only option was to deal with whoever entered.

"Yingying, I’m sure you’re in there. You said staying in my bedroom was boring," the man outside said with a chuckle. "But you wouldn't go too far from familiar territory, so you must be in one of the rooms near mine."

Lin Ting frowned. The man outside turned the doorknob. Lin Ting raised her hands, but as the door wouldn't budge, the man tried again. Just as Lin Ting calculated her angle for an attack, Shang Moting suddenly gripped her wrists. She instinctively grabbed his hands back, fearing he was about to do something to her, but he grabbed her other hand and rubbed it soothingly.

Lin Ting’s tension eased.

The next second, the door swung wide open. The person outside reached for the light switch, but Shang Moting pressed Lin Ting against a nearby glass display cabinet. The movement was so swift that Lin Ting reflexively pressed her hands against the glass to keep from hitting her head, while Shang Moting’s hand shielded her. Her other hand, gripped by his, was also pressed against the cabinet. His hand completely covered hers, hiding her glove.

Shang Moting pulled her entirely into his embrace. The proximity was so intense she felt his warmth and the rhythm of his heartbeat. Her own heart began to race. Just as she grew dazed, Shang Moting nudged her knees with his leg. Her legs buckled; realizing how stiff she had been, she instantly relaxed her body, closed her eyes, and leaned her head against his hand.

They were even closer now, and she could feel his breath against her neck.

The room flooded with light.

"Yingying, I'm here to..." The man at the door had been laughing, but the sight of the two figures inside stopped him mid-sentence.

From his vantage point, they looked intimate and entwined. Shang Moting’s nose brushed lightly against Lin Ting’s ear, and she trembled as if against her will, her hands clutching the fabric of his sleeves.

Shang Moting’s eyelashes fluttered. He caught the sight of her reddened ears and neck, sensing her nervousness. Then, as if reacting a beat too slow, he frowned and squinted toward the door.

The man at the door had been confused and sluggish from the alcohol, but the moment he recognized Shang Moting’s face, most of his sobriety returned. His eyes widened.

*Isn't it said that Shang Moting doesn't touch women? That he hasn't been with anyone for years? Isn't it rumored that he's impotent? Then what is he doing right now? He looks completely lost in her!*

"S-CEO Shang?"

Shang Moting took a deep breath, his tone impatient. "Do you intend to watch?"

The man immediately backed away. "Carry on, carry on. Have fun." He retreated and shut the door.

Once the door was closed, Shang Moting pulled away. Lin Ting stood to the side, looking down and smoothing her clothes. Shang Moting watched her flushed face without a word, glancing at the door; the man had not lingered.

Lin Ting rubbed her burning ears and muttered, "You’re quite the actor."

Shang Moting looked back at her and smiled. "At least if I went to an acting audition, the professors wouldn't tell me to change careers."

Lin Ting shot him a glare.

Footsteps could still be heard outside, so they didn't rush to leave. Lin Ting scanned the room and then looked at Shang Moting. He was wearing an exquisite suit with a brooch, clearly dressed for a birthday party. To stay after the party for these activities...

A strange tightness formed in Lin Ting’s chest. Or perhaps it wasn't tightness—it felt more like a fire burning. It was uncomfortable. She didn't analyze the feeling, but she felt a sudden urge to condemn him.

*Men, they’re all the same. Shameless, lecherous creatures.*

And he smelled of alcohol. He’d been drinking. Was he using the excuse of a little buzz to play games and hunt for pretty girls?

Shang Moting leaned against the glass cabinet, lost in thought. After a while, he noticed how unusually quiet Lin Ting was. He turned to look at her and found her expression... as if she were on fire. She was frowning, eyes wide, cheeks puffed out like a bun—she looked furious.

Shang Moting paused. "What's wrong?"

As soon as he asked, Lin Ting’s expression smoothed out, feigning indifference, and she began to speak with sharp, biting sarcasm. "My apologies for interrupting CEO Shang’s fun."

Seeing her forced composure, the fire inside her seemed to burn even hotter.

"CEO Shang doesn't need to stay here with me," she continued. "The game outside isn't over yet. You should go back to finding that little girl you were hiding with."

Shang Moting listened to her tone. Every word sounded like it was singed. He looked at her and paused. "I just did you a huge favor. Is this how you repay me?"

"And how would you like me to repay you?" Lin Ting felt strangely calm—a cold, meditative sort of calm—though her tone remained venomous. "Do you need me to go out there and help you find the little girl you're hiding?"

A laugh escaped Shang Moting’s lips. He reached out and pinched her cheek. "With that sour tone, we wouldn't need to buy vinegar at home. Does coming here mean I must be looking for a girl? Can't it be something else, just like you?"