Chapter 102: Falling in Love—The Whole World Becomes My Rival (2)

He kicked off his slippers, his eyes fixed on her.

Yet Bai Yao remained slouched on the sofa, showing not the slightest reaction.

Fu Huai pressed his lips tighter and tighter, nearly biting them raw. When they had first started dating, he hadn’t liked walking barefoot on the cold floor; every time she saw him without shoes, she would insistently urge him to put them on. But now he’d been standing on the floor for a minute and she hadn’t moved at all.

The resentment in Fu Huai’s heart reached its peak. He turned and stomped out the door in his sneakers.

Bai Yao called out, “Don’t go too far, dinner will be ready soon.”

The front door slammed shut with a harsh bang, painfully loud.

Bai Yao ruffled her hair. She really shouldn’t have gotten into a relationship with someone younger. The immaturity was obvious—his moods were unstable, and whenever she didn’t indulge him, he’d throw out, “Do you not love me anymore?”

When it happened once or twice, Bai Yao had the patience to coax him, but after several times, she grew weary.

Fu Huai attended the most prestigious aristocratic school in the city, with the finest accommodations. But he insisted on moving out to live with her, claiming their school was a blend of Eastern and Western traditions, and lots of students were renting rooms with their lovers. Why shouldn’t he?

Bai Yao had a bit of moral sense; she only allowed him to move in after he turned eighteen.

Naturally, from the day he arrived, he acted like a queen inspecting her palace, criticizing every corner of her rented apartment. To him, the place was nothing short of “junk,” utterly unworthy of his tastes.

Yet he shamelessly stayed.

Distance truly does breed fondness. Since they’d started living together, their conflicts had steadily increased.

Bai Yao prepared three dishes and a soup. She waited for quite a while, but Fu Huai didn’t return. Just as she took out her phone to call him, the door opened from outside.

Fu Huai was no longer seething with anger, but entered with arms full of shopping bags, flaunting the designer labels for all to see like a triumphant peacock.

Bai Yao had always known he loved expensive things, but since her family had gone bankrupt, she hadn’t bought him any.

She asked, “Where did all this come from?”

Fu Huai pulled out an expensive bottle of perfume from the bag, saying nonchalantly, “An old woman I met on the way bought it for me. She even asked for my contact info, said she’d buy me lots more.”

He pulled a shirt from another bag. “This was bought by an ugly corporate drone. Ridiculous—his savings barely cover one shirt, yet he still wants to see me again. Disgusting pig.”

He fished out a jar of caviar, his lips twisting in mockery. “And there was a man shopping with his girlfriend. When he heard I wanted caviar, he ditched her and took me to buy the best caviar, even handed me the card he was saving to buy a home.”

Bai Yao kept watching him without a word.

Fu Huai stopped rummaging through the luxury shopping bags, looked at Bai Yao, the tear mole beneath his left eye shifting as his smile curled, “There are plenty of people in this world eager to be my dogs. Whether you love me or not, I couldn’t care less.”

Bai Yao’s eye twitched.

Fu Huai’s temperament was truly vile. He basked in the adoration of others, wielding his charm like a weapon, yet constantly belittled those who admired him.

To him, those fighting to please him—regardless of gender—were little more than livestock.

Fu Huai arched his brows, smugly declaring, “Considering how long we’ve been together, I’ll give you another chance, Bai Yao. As long as you cut off ties with everyone else and keep pampering me, I won’t break up with you.”

His words oozed confidence. Perhaps “confidence” wasn’t strong enough—he really did have the allure that drew people to him like moths to a flame.

He was being magnanimous by not breaking up with her; how could she not be grateful?

Bai Yao said, “I told you before, don’t accept gifts from others. You agreed to that.”

Fu Huai turned his face away, huffing, “I don’t recall that.”

Bai Yao glanced at the mountain of luxury shopping bags piled on the table, rubbed her temples, and sighed, “Alright, since you want to break up, let’s break up.”

Fu Huai was stunned. “What did you say?”

Bai Yao calmly replied, “I respect your wishes. I’m willing to break up.”

With her current financial situation, she truly couldn’t meet his demands for such lavish things.

He suddenly shrieked, “You want to break up with me!”

He used to say this person was a clown, that one was worse than a pig or dog, but now, as he screamed, he looked more like a lunatic.

Bai Yao asked, “Didn’t you want to break up all along? What, are you planning to salvage our relationship?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We were just playing house—there never was any real feeling!”

Bai Yao stood and walked toward the door. “I’ll give you time to pack up and move out. I’ll come back in an hour.”

She put on her shoes and stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

She meant it.

Fu Huai swept all the expensive items off the table onto the floor in a fit of rage, falling into a frenzy that seemed impossible to resolve. His beautiful face looked as if it might tear apart at any moment.

Downstairs, Bai Yao joined the children playing in the sand. Truth be told, she’d given up. Fu Huai was impossible to please, constantly throwing tantrums. As for any strategy, she couldn’t care less, refusing to compromise herself—if they needed to break up, so be it. If he had a legion of admirers, losing her wouldn’t matter.

Fu Huai stood in the apartment for ten minutes, Bai Yao still hadn’t returned. He clenched his fists, staring at the caviar jar on the floor, his eyes filling with a sick, twisted hatred.

He picked up the caviar and smashed it hard against the ground. The jar shattered, shards flying up and cutting his face, but he seemed to feel nothing, not even a twitch of his brow.

The blood dripping onto the floor began to change, something writhing within, sprouting fleshy tendrils.

The tendrils grew larger, taking on the outline of a human face—repulsive and terrifying.

It whispered, “Bai Yao… Yao Yao… Yao Yao…”

Like a lover’s murmurs.

Though it had no means to move, it crawled relentlessly toward Bai Yao’s direction.

Fu Huai grabbed the human face and strode to the kitchen, turned on the gas stove, and tossed it into the flames in a fit of spite.

As agonized screams echoed from the fire, a trace of satisfaction finally flickered in his heart, his words cruel, “An impostor daring to call my girlfriend’s name—disgusting trash.”