Chapter 13: Awakening from the Dream
At three in the morning, the long foreplay finally came to an end.
The guest boasted about his luxury car, which was incredibly valuable. All he had to do was shout at the steering wheel from the driver’s seat, and it would drive itself, racing toward a certain luxury hotel at a speed close to the limit, a name that sounded somewhat familiar to Lin Feng.
Facing the night wind, Lin Feng tried hard to disperse the unpleasant odor from the nightclub, searching for the name of the hotel in her mind. She had a recollection; it seemed that she had met the Demon King, Ji Ma, at that hotel.
It was Ji Ma herself who had told her that on that day, she had suddenly appeared beside her after coming from the United States. When she arrived, she didn’t forget to take a selfie, revealing a Chinese sign outside the window, which startled many departments.
At that time, Lin Feng was panicking, pleading for Ji Ma to take her away after exposing herself, just one person was enough.
Ji Ma snapped her fingers, using the photo as a medium to mislead everyone; no one could find Lin Feng’s home from the picture.
Such a grand arrival created a massive spectacle. Lin Feng felt uneasy, but Ji Ma merely asked, “Do you remember when we first met?”
“In a dream?”
“No, in this hotel, in this room.”
As soon as she finished speaking, the surrounding environment changed. The television smashed against the floor-to-ceiling window, shattering on the ground, and cracks appeared in the wall-sized window. A familiar woman lay on the bed, quite beautiful, it looked like Fang Shiyun.
“That day?” Lin Feng immediately recalled that bizarre night, exclaiming, “It was you?”
“Yes, I fulfilled the wishes of Wan Ziqi,” Ji Ma said, sparkling and languid. “So, it seems she went a bit insane and ended up in a mental hospital; what was her name again?”
“Fang, Fang Shiyun.”
“Oh, right, Fang Shiyun.”
Ji Ma blinked: “She’s not dead yet; never mind, I’ll give her a curse.”
With a flick of her thoughts, the distant, spectral scream of a woman echoed through the spacious hotel room.
Lin Feng felt a bit scared, noticing a hint of amusement on Ji Ma’s lazy face, but more so, a boredom. Her eyes drooped, and her eyelashes lazily fluttered.
“So boring. The weak with no ability to resist are truly tiresome. Ah~~ if someone could stab me in the chest, forcing me to use all my tricks to escape a calamity, that would be great.”
Lin Feng sensed there was something in Ji Ma’s words. Currently, there are two prevailing opinions about the birth of the Demon King, Ji Ma. The mainstream view holds that she was a programmer who suffered greatly and, after her death, summoned her wrath upon the world at the cost of her soul.
Online, everyone liked to talk about this, implying that if my work conditions didn’t change, then everyone would be doomed, and the world would have a thousand Demon Kings.
The second view is that she was lying. She is Fang Ziqi, and Fang Ziqi is her.
Lin Feng leaned towards the second view, but either way, it seemed unfavorable for her own situation. Regardless, she had essentially “stolen” Wan Ziqi’s woman, and she might want to torment someone else. Otherwise, why would she personally descend?
Just as Lin Feng was at a loss, contemplating how to beg for mercy, even considering whether to slide down on her knees like in a movie.
Ji Ma, however, swished her tail and said, “Goodbye.”
“Is there something you need, my Demon Lord?”
“I’m just bored and wanted to say something,” Ji Ma said and then vanished into thin air.
In a daze, the surroundings began to shift; the hotel room disappeared, replaced by her own home.
Lin Feng didn’t know if this was a dream or reality. It felt like a dream, until she picked up her phone and saw a slew of news about Ji Ma online. After all, Ji Ma had verbally promised to come to Huaxia less often. Various rumors were everywhere, some suspecting she was diverting attention for the current president, even doubting that she was cooperating with America to land.
Lin Feng didn’t care; all she cared about was that Ji Ma really had come.
“It’s here.”
The words pulled Lin Feng back from her memories.
The waiter pushed the door open, revealing a spacious room with a whole wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, like a transparent glass wall, behind which was the Pearl Tower.
In a daze, she felt as if she had awakened from a dream. After going in circles, she unexpectedly returned to the starting point, to the same room. In these twenty-five years, she had actually changed roles, and the mockery of fate made her let out a bitter laugh for a moment.
“Hahaha…”
The guest, who was busy boasting about himself, said, “You laugh so beautifully; what are you laughing at, babe?”
“Nothing.” Lin Feng lightly covered her mouth, looking at him with her colorful eyes and said, “I suddenly thought, could we throw the TV or something against the floor-to-ceiling window?”
The guest, looking at the plastic-like television, laughed, “How could you possibly break it?”
“Then how about with a chair, or a bottle?”
The guest said, “Why would you think of that?”
Lin Feng sensed the guest’s rejection behind his words; for him, randomly smashing the floor-to-ceiling window would be troublesome.
“Nothing, just being neurotic.”
The guest continued to brag about his luxury car: “Usually when I come to a nightclub, I don’t dare to drive mine; it’s too expensive, afraid the girls won’t let go.”
What letting go? He was just worried about being seen as wealthy, making the girls pose as reserved, resulting in having to spend more money.
Lin Feng slightly lowered her head to hide her disdain and said, “So that’s how it is; you’re better than other men, really.”
According to custom, it was time to bathe.
Lin Feng refused the guest’s request for a romantic bath, and to dispel his displeasure, she threw out her trump card.
She said, “I’m so tired; I’m not even married, yet I have to support someone else’s daughter.”
The guest’s voice trembled slightly: “Someone else’s daughter?”
“Her biological mother passed away; she’s left all alone in this world,” Lin Feng said. “My daughter hasn’t even seen her own mother.”
Previously, Lin Feng’s identification card had a frightfully large age, and the fact that she had a daughter stuck in the guest’s throat. But now, he felt like the obstruction in his throat had disappeared, and he was completely at ease.
His desire for Lin Feng increased significantly, along with a deep sense of pity.
Watching Lin Feng’s thin and small back as she walked into the bathroom, the guest blurted out:
“I’ll take care of you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
After washing up, the guest eagerly looked at her on the bed and handed her a card.
He said, “There’s twenty thousand a month in there.”
“Thank you.” Lin Feng replied, “By the way, what do you see in my eyes?”
The guest raised his head and looked closely: “What is it?”
No sooner had he finished speaking than he lost consciousness, languid and asleep on the bed.
Lin Feng pulled out the guest’s payment, which was several stacks of cash; it could evade scrutiny and directly show a woman his wealth.
Lin Feng sat on the sofa, legs spread, leisurely counting the money, while the guest was on the bed, vigorously performing piston movements, making the bed thud loudly.
Just this little money. Lin Feng licked her fingertips, stuffed the money into her bag, and thought, “What a waste.”
