The only break Liang Mei took was to drink a glass of water after the kitchen floor was dry. It helped alleviate the residual effects of her hangover, and she started to feel more like herself. With a clearer mind, she assessed her predicament and decided that living with it was preferable to dealing with the consequences of that picture being circulated among her peers. Although Zhang Yichan was picking on her in a more extreme way than before, he was still the same bully he had been for the past three years. He dealt in psychological warfare rather than physical, and as long as it stayed that way, she could endure it—until she could take her own revenge on him. She had formulated her plan while scrubbing the bathtub. She knew Zhang Yichan's birthday was on November 17th, just three months away. He would turn eighteen, but she would still be seventeen until February. That meant he would be an adult in possession of pornography, since she was a minor.
She could have gone to the police now, but she wanted him to face the full extent of the law. The consequences would be far more severe if he was charged as an adult. She just had to bide her time until then as long as he didn't take things too far. It would be worth it to see him pay for all the misery he had caused her. If she could survive three more months, Zhang Yichan would spend the rest of his life regretting the day he ever took that picture. When she happened upon his room while vacuuming upstairs, Liang Mei was surprised to find it was the cleanest room in the house. There was no dust on his dresser and no clutter typical of a teenage boy's room. Nothing littered the floor to impede her progress, and she finished quickly.
Still, she lingered to take in his private space. A few bottles of men's cologne sat on his dresser along with his deodorant. Over the years, whenever she had gotten close enough, he had always smelled good. The way he dressed—slacks and nice shirts—was likely a remnant of his boarding school days. His appearance and understated masculine scent left a more sophisticated impression than other guys his age. Even his bedroom reflected that image. The walls were painted soft gray, and his black bed was accented by a white bedspread and neatly stacked white pillows against a black headboard. The refined look matched the outward appearance of its owner. A framed family photograph on his nightstand completed the effect it showed Zhang Yichan with his parents, all smiling and seemingly happy. Yet looks could be deceiving. She knew that his father had been cheating on his mother, so their smiles in that photo hadn't told the full story. Liang Mei didn't know what Zhang Yichan had been like back then, but his behavior now erased any good impression his appearance might have given.
"That was what your slut mother destroyed," Zhang Yichan's voice came from the doorway.
Liang Mei turned to face him. "Then why not go after her? Why are you taking it out on me? I was a kid, just like you were."
Surprise flickered across his face. "You're not going to defend your mother? Try to tell me it wasn't her fault?"
"It was just as much his fault as it was hers. Unless you think she raped him."
"She knew he was a married man," he argued, his voice rising as he stepped toward her. "She knew he had a family."
"So did he," she shot back. "But that didn't stop him from cheating on his wife."
He went still, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.
"Did I say you could address me by my first name?" he snapped. "Let me make something clear—you are my servant, and you will know your place. You will call me sir."
Her temper flared instantly. "Sir?" she sneered. "Is that some bondage crap? Because if you think I'll ever let you touch me, you're out of your mind. You haven't done a damn thing to earn my respect. Talk about trash what kind of asshole undresses an unconscious girl and takes pictures of her?"
A mocking smile spread across his face. "You weren't unconscious. I was just going to take a video of you acting like a drunk fool, but you tried to seduce me. You were dancing suggestively, rubbing up against me, and then you took off your shirt."
"You're lying."
"I have the video to prove it," he replied smoothly. "I already had enough to make you squirm, but then you asked me if I wanted to see more. You took your clothes off for me."
Liang Mei studied him with skepticism, but his gaze briefly dropped as he swallowed almost nervously before hardening again. "You told me you've had a crush on me since you were twelve years old."
She froze. "You're lying," she whispered.
He pulled out his phone, swiped the screen, and came to stand beside her as the video played. She saw herself dancing alone, swigging tequila from the bottle, then resuming her movements.
"Smile," a male voice said. "I'm taking your picture."
Her drunken self turned to the camera, beaming. "Zhang Yichan! You're here! Dance with me!"
"Hold this," he said to Linja, offscreen. "Keep filming."
He stepped into frame, and she approached him, arms raised, dancing seductively. "You're so hot," she told him. "I have sexy dreams about you."
"What happens in your dreams?" he asked in a low, seductive tone.
"I touch you," she answered, pressing her body against his.
"Where?"
She stepped back, pulled off her shirt, and flung it aside. "Touch me," she urged.
The camera tilted wildly as Linja's voice cut in. "That's enough."
"Keep filming!" Zhang Yichan barked.
"You're not screwing her, Yichan. I won't—"
"Get out of here," he growled.
"You think you can screw her in my house?"
"Shut up! I'm not screwing her. I fucking hate her."
"You hate me?" her drunken voice wailed. "But why?"
The camera steadied again, showing her pouting.
"Go," Zhang Yichan ordered. "I want this damn video."
"I can—"
"Leave."
"Promise you won't do anything with her."
"I fucking promise," he snapped. "Just let me get this done, and she'll be out of your hair."
While they argued, Liang Mei took another drink, then set down the bottle as he approached.
"You're taking my picture?" she asked, smiling brightly.
"Yes," he said. "You've got a great body."
"Want to see more?"
"Yes. Show me more."
"Is this a dream? You take off my clothes in my dreams."
"Yeah?" His voice was husky.
"You're so beautiful," she murmured. "I've had a crush on you since I was twelve. I want to marry you."
He ended the video abruptly. "Proof you asked me to take off your clothes."
"How could you do that?" she demanded.
"Romantic?" he mocked. "Yeah, I wasn't falling for that. I know your mother taught you to use whatever you can to get your claws into a man."
"I'm not like my mother!" she raged. "I don't use sex to get things. I've never even—" She cut herself off, mortified.
He snorted. "You've never had sex? Linja told me you said you're a virgin, but I'm not buying it. Not with how you spread your legs for me last night."
"We didn't—"
"I told you I wouldn't touch trash like you. You're my servant and nothing else. Is that clear?"
"Don't call me trash."
"The only words that should come out of your mouth when you speak to me are 'yes sir.' Say it."
"I'm not calling you—"
"Say it, or I'll send that picture to everyone on my contact list," he threatened, thumb hovering over his phone.
Liang Mei lunged at him, trying to snatch the phone, but he twisted away with practiced reflexes.
"Do you really think I don't have that picture saved elsewhere?" he said coolly. "Break my phone and you'll just buy me a new one. Now say the words."
Everything in her rebelled, but finally she ground out, "Yes, sir."
His mocking smile made her want to slap him. "Now remember to address me that way at the party tonight."