chapter 6

Chapter 6

Half a month ago, I was invited to play the violin at an engagement party.

Before the couple made their entrance, I wore a purple dress and performed Tartini’s masterpiece, “Devil’s Trill,” for the guests.

It wasn’t a piece commonly heard at engagement parties, but it was specifically requested by the client.

Tartini once said that he dreamed of the devil and made a pact with him.

He sold his soul, and the devil willingly became his servant, driven by his will, and played this astonishingly beautiful sonata for him.

Devil, pact, soul, servant, Chen Suiyuan…

I remembered that after that performance, the payment was made by someone named “Tartini.”

So, everything had already been manipulated and planned from the start.

I didn’t go to the hospital to see Liang An. Before knowing my enemy as well as myself, I dared not underestimate Chen Suiyuan’s skills and methods again.

Liang An tried to hide his disappointment at my absence.

Before hanging up, I asked, “Liang An, do you think love is respect, is it equality?”

“Of course. What else could it be?” He’s a university lecturer in Chinese literature, and began to describe it with precise vocabulary. “Could it possibly be manipulation and control, subordination and servitude?”

“In ‘Siddhartha,’ it says that love can be begged for, bought, received as a gift, or found in a humble alley.”

“But it can never be taken by force.” He added, quoting a book we’d read together back in school. “What you’re talking about is the transaction between loving and being loved. But even if it’s a transaction, it’s free, it’s equal, and it can be stopped at any time, not a plunge into the abyss.”

Liang An was silent for a while. “What’s wrong, Xu Xin? Why are you suddenly talking about this?”

“It’s nothing.” I laughed at myself.

Look at this-how frightening.

I, a mature woman with well-formed values, still found myself doubting and lost because of Chen Suiyuan’s calculated moves, even developing a sense of self-denial. How much more so for Xiao Min?

Yes, Liang An is right. Love is not exploitation.

No matter what name it’s under, Chen Suiyuan is scum.

Three days later, I was practicing violin in the study.

Suddenly, a loud crash came from the living room.

I followed the sound. The wooden coffee table had collapsed with a bang, and where Xiao Min’s phone had been was now a patch of charred black.

And if, if at that moment, I had been holding that phone, then my hand-the one I use to play the violin…

I didn’t dare think further. I stood frozen in shock for a long time before I came to my senses and called the police.

At the police station, Chen Suiyuan’s lawyer arrived in a hurry. After a few words of concern, he insisted that it was Xiao Min’s phone and had nothing to do with Chen Suiyuan.

He even tried to portray me as harboring hostility and possible fantasies of revenge against Chen Suiyuan because of my relative’s death, but he never once mentioned the tricks Chen Suiyuan had used on me these past days.

In the end, due to lack of evidence and no one being hurt, I was given some safety education and left the station.

As soon as I stepped outside, the rear window of a Cayenne parked by the roadside rolled down.

“Long time no see, Miss Xu.” Chen Suiyuan’s face appeared. He was clearly satisfied with my current embarrassment and exhaustion.

I even suspected that my calling the police was something he had already anticipated.

I stood there, expressionless.

“Perhaps now, you’d like to talk.” He said, “Miss Xu, would you do me the honor and get in the car?”