Chapter Ten: The Philippine Family (2)
“Not really,” Nan Bei said with a smile, reaching up to touch his eyes. “Your eyes are very beautiful. On the E40 in Belgium, from the moment our eyes met, I was seduced by you.”
The color of amber.
When he was angry, they could make people feel cold, but when he looked at her, there was tenderness, gentleness, languor, and a kind of inexplicable deep affection that seemed to cross many years.
He smiled. “Really?”
“Really,” she said. “I remember. It was February 10. Right?”
Cheng Muyang was somewhat surprised.
He lowered his head, the tip of his nose sliding from her forehead down the bridge of her nose, over her lips and chin, finally coming to rest at her throat. His breathing was audible, even the sting of his teeth leaving marks against her skin. “Before we get to the airport, find somewhere, any hotel, or even right here in this car. I want you.”
“You lecher.” Her voice came through clenched teeth.
“I’m not just a lecher. I’m a demon too,” Cheng Muyang replied with a laugh. “After I die, I’ll surely be sent to hell, never to be reborn. So I only have this one life, one lifetime, to be with you to my heart’s content. Just this one life. Can you really bear to refuse me?”
She laughed, her hand sliding down his back to gently stroke his wounds.
There was no woman who could resist a man who always described his obsession with you in such self-cursing words. She felt that Cheng Muyang’s very existence was a calamity for her.
And one from which there was no escape.
Kyle learned some information from the two women.
The two women were British journalists who had come to report on the Philippine elections. At the height of the current election campaign, rumors had emerged that the most popular presidential candidate was relying on the support of the largest family on Mindanao.
To obtain firsthand information, more than fifty foreign media personnel, including the two journalists, had come to Mindanao, hoping to follow and interview this family, as well as the family opposed to them.
Then they encountered a kidnapping and massacre.
According to the women, of the more than fifty people who had come with them, only the two of them managed to escape because they had been late for an interview.
And fortunately, they had run into Kyle.
Nan Bei did not know much about the Philippines, but clearly Kyle was an insider. After reassuring the two journalists, he wrote a short letter and had the two soldiers and the driver get out of the vehicle, taking the female journalists back to the main group to seek temporary protection.
The soldiers and driver were very happy to receive this assignment.
After the fierce fight before dawn, Cheng Muyang and Kyle were, to them, even more terrifying than terrorist organizations.
Cheng Muyang’s right hand was still recovering. After using a gun for support the previous night, an old injury had flared up again, so only Kyle and Nan Bei could take turns driving.
“Philippines is a country completely dominated by family politics,” Kyle went on, patiently educating Nan Bei about the country’s north and south, treating it as something to pass the time while driving. “There are hundreds of families in the country occupying the upper and middle levels of society. On Mindanao, the Paan family can be said to have absolute control. ‘Have absolute control.’ That’s the right expression, isn’t it?”
Nan Bei laughed. “Your Chinese is really good.”
“Of course. Still, it can’t compare to the way you four families are so detached, completely existing beyond the borders.” Kyle took a cigarette from his pocket, lit it himself, and drew in a deep breath. “The Paan family places great importance on power, so what they did isn’t difficult to understand.”
“Just because of that, they went on a killing spree against the reporters?”
“This country has too many islands, and most of them are in a state of anarchy. Whoever gets power becomes king. So whether it’s a provincial governor, a mayor, or even a small local election, there will be many violent incidents,” Kyle shrugged. “I guess these reporters must have interviewed a family that was hostile to the Paans, so they brought the trouble upon themselves.”
Every corner of this world has its own unique culture.
Listening to all this, she could only feel sorry for those reporters, who had been caught up in a sudden murder.
They had been driving for ten minutes when Kyle suddenly stepped on the brakes.
The scene before them was somewhat beyond their imagination. They had once thought that if they continued down this road, they would inevitably pass the site of the incident, but they had not expected a scene so bloody that it far surpassed the one that morning. There were old people, the young, women, and children here, and many of them had clearly been subjected to abuse, their bodies mutilated.
Local police vehicles had arrived at the same time as they had.
Because they were driving a military jeep, and had a pass left by the commander, the local police took the pass and told them they would have to wait for verification. Soon, a senior police officer came to the window and handed Cheng Muyang a phone.
The call was already connected.
Cheng Muyang was somewhat surprised, but took it anyway.
The entire call was brief. Cheng Muyang did not say a word throughout. After hanging up and returning the phone to the officer, he nodded at him and said, “I’m very pleased to have received an invitation to attend tonight’s banquet.”
It was a very strange scene.
He was bare-chested, covered in wounds, yet was being treated as an honored guest of the largest family in the region and had received an invitation. In the instant Cheng Muyang said those words, his expression held the complete indifference of Eastern European nobility.
Nan Bei and Kyle were both astonished, but neither showed it. They knew that if Cheng Muyang had made this decision, there must have been another turn in the situation, and it should be a very important one.
After he said this, everyone in the vehicle tacitly fell silent and followed the officer’s arrangements.
Soon, someone drove ahead to lead them toward the estate of the largest family on Mindanao.
Kyle did not ask. Nan Bei did not ask. So he did not explain.
Only after the car drove through the gates of the estate did the scenery outside the window begin to take on an unusually warm and welcoming air. Along the main road ran a river that was not particularly wide, with coconut palms and sugarcane planted all around it. Because of this, the air was filled with the fresh fragrance of plants.
The estate’s ecosystem had been well preserved.
It even retained the style of the Spanish colonial period.
The buildings in the distance looked like something out of a medieval oil painting.
When they got out of the car, there were many people there to welcome them, all dressed extremely formally. By contrast, the three of them looked almost comical. When Nan Bei saw Oman behind the crowd, she immediately understood the purpose behind what Cheng Muyang had done.
It was Oman who had arranged all of this.
The moment she realized it, a beautiful Eastern European woman lifted the hem of her dress and walked toward Cheng Muyang, giving him a big hug while calling his name in very halting Chinese: “Cheng.”
From that one word alone, Nan Bei could hear all kinds of things in it.
Surprise, waiting, anticipation, and worry.
There was even a faint trace of displeasure. But that last feeling was probably directed at her.
Cheng Muyang patted the woman on the back with one hand and smiled.
“Hello,” the woman switched to English and said to Nan Bei. “I’m Katyusha, Cheng’s friend, a friend of many years.” Her brief introduction made Nan Bei laugh despite herself. It was rare enough to meet two Russian women, and they both happened to have the same name. What were the odds?
But in the woman’s eyes, her smile became mockery.
Especially considering Nan Bei’s appearance now, which was hardly anything to admire. After a whole night of rushing about, she had not gone so far as Cheng Muyang and simply stripped to the waist, but she was still a complete mess.
There was even the smell of blood that had dried overnight clinging to her.
After everyone entered the hall, Cheng Muyang continued to exchange brief pleasantries with the host in Filipino.
The woman seemed to be a friend of the host as well, smiling constantly as she exchanged words with them.
Nan Bei, on the other hand, was left out.
But when she remembered that just outside this beautiful estate lay bodies strewn everywhere, she had no good feelings toward the person who had caused it all either. She simply stayed silently at Cheng Muyang’s side.
After a while, Oman quietly came to her side and said softly, “You can’t understand them, and it’s boring. I’ll take you to have a hot shower.” Nan Bei smiled gratefully and followed her away.
Oman led her up to the third floor, to the guest room where she was staying. It had a very large bathroom.
The bathtub was sunken into the floor, large enough to hold three or four people.
After Oman gave a few instructions, two Filipino women began preparing everything for her: a tub full of hot water, fresh flower petals. Everything made it feel like entering paradise. Oman spoke to her softly, asking about her life over the past dozen or so days. Nan Bei only smiled and said that she had returned to a primitive way of life. Oman smiled and touched her soaking-wet black hair. “My younger brother must feel terrible for you.”
Amid the swirling steam, she was so tired that she closed her eyes and smiled, saying nothing.
“Katyusha grew up with him from the time she was in her teens and has always liked him.” Oman continued explaining. “It was also thanks to her help this time that I was able to arrange for you to enter this estate. But I didn’t dare tell him over the phone just now. I was afraid he would refuse. You should already know that the CIA has laid a vast net across the Philippines. Without this family’s help, there’s no way he could get to the airport.”
Everything Oman said made sense.
So she said nothing either.
The hot water flowed constantly, its temperature regulated, clear and clean.
She was even almost falling asleep against the bathtub when she heard the door open. She could not be bothered to open her eyes until she felt someone getting into the water, hands braced on either side of her. Only then did she narrow her eyes and look at him.
There was the fragrance of strong liquor.
What a drunk. He had finally gotten away from the Muslim areas, and he was like a fish back in water.
The rising steam made her apricot-colored skin look beautiful. There was drunkenness in his eyes, and desire too.
She smiled, resting her head against his left arm. “This place seems a lot better than just finding some hotel, or staying in the car.”
“It certainly is.”
“I’m curious. How could you bear to come looking for me?”
“Jealous?” His voice, polished by alcohol and desire, was incredibly seductive.
“Mm. A little.”
“Could it be a little more?” he said with a smile. “It would make me happier.”
“You’re so childish. Fine,” she said with a smile of her own. “A little more.”
His body pressed against hers, and he had actually gotten into the water wearing his trousers.
The fabric was soaked through, rubbing against her skin and leaving her unable to tell whether it felt pleasant or uncomfortable.
With the water at this temperature and in these surroundings, there was no need for words. Cheng Muyang took off his trousers, held his breath, and went beneath the water, gently biting her breast.
The buoyancy of the water made the sensations more intense.
She could not help trying to push him away, only to be pulled beneath the surface and kissed on the lips.
Underwater, with no air, he entered her, and for dozens of long seconds, he gave her no chance to breathe. Only when white light began layering across her vision and she grew dizzy did he finally lift her back to the surface.
“I was just thinking,” he said in a low voice, licking her lips, “if I let you go, would you marry someone else? When we met again, would you be someone’s wife? Someone like Shen Jiaming?”
Nan Bei laughed, angered by what he said.
Was there any man who could still be inside you and already be worrying that you would become another man’s woman?
“No,” she said. Then, remembering the hug Cheng Muyang had just given Katyusha, she suddenly wanted to tease him. “At least it won’t be Shen Jiaming.” Before her voice had even faded, it had already changed into a soft gasp.
Cheng Muyang wrapped an arm around her waist, moving within her, giving her no further chance to speak.
Someone so self-assured had suddenly become like a man in love for the first time, repeatedly jealous of that brief, innocent relationship she had had in the past.
Just thinking about it left her completely defenseless.
For the first time in her life, she did not want to return to Wanding, to the home she had missed.
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