Chapter 80: Jiang Ci You Has Long Been Tainted

Xia Ling clenched her fingers so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, barely holding herself together.

“Do you really think Jiang Ciyou loves you? The one she loves is Yan Feng. Three years ago, she tried to kill herself for Yan Feng, slitting her wrists. She’s only using you now. Are you willing to be just a piece in Jiang Ciyou and someone else’s love story?”

“Mr. Bo, you’re the esteemed prince of the capital’s elite. Jiang Ciyou only cares about your status and power—she’s using you, that’s all. She’s leveraging you to suppress Yan Feng, or perhaps just to make him jealous.”

Xia Ling did not believe that anything real had happened between Jiang Ciyou and Bo Jinxi—not yet. Their acquaintance was far too brief. By all rights, with Jiang Ciyou and Bo Jinxi together, she should feel relieved. It would mean the odds of Jiang Ciyou getting back with Yan Feng had grown that much slimmer.

But she feared that, given time, their pretense might become reality. Bo Jinxi, after all, would be a much tougher adversary than Yan Feng. And if he became Jiang Ciyou’s protector, her own situation would only become more precarious.

No—whatever it took, she had to destroy the connection between Bo Jinxi and Jiang Ciyou.

Xia Ling saw Bo Jinxi’s brows knit tightly together, his gaze cold and remote—as if her words were beginning to sway him. Sensing an opening, she pressed on: “With your stature, Mr. Bo, you wouldn’t be willing to let yourself be a woman’s plaything, would you?”

She poured all her bitterness into her words, wanting them to be blades—blades sharp enough to sever any bond between the two.

Bo Jinxi’s eyes sharpened, his stare freezing as he regarded Xia Ling. He let out a brief, mirthless laugh, but his tone was colder than ice. “Miss Xia, so this is the extent of your skill in sowing discord?”

“Let me enlighten you. Jiang Ciyou and I have been together for three years. From the start, she was the one who kept me. I was happy to let her use me, content to be her plaything. Every day, I did my utmost to please her, just to see her smile. Nothing else matters to me in the least.”

With that, Bo Jinxi turned on his heel to leave, unwilling to waste another moment arguing with Xia Ling.

Xia Ling’s expression turned ghastly. What was Bo Jinxi trying to say? They’d been together three years? Jiang Ciyou kept Bo Jinxi?

She recognized every word, but strung together and coming from Bo Jinxi’s mouth, they sounded like a tale spun from dreams—utterly impossible.

But soon, she pieced it together. Three years ago—could it have been after Yan Feng took her abroad to provoke Jiang Ciyou? Did Jiang Ciyou, in her despair, find a man at random? And that man just so happened to be the prince of the capital? And what about this business of being “kept”?

Yet judging by Bo Jinxi’s demeanor, he didn’t seem to be lying. For Xia Ling, it was an enormous blow. She’d finally managed to drive Yan Feng and Jiang Ciyou apart, only for a scion of the capital’s elite to appear in her way.

If Bo Jinxi truly took Jiang Ciyou’s side, how could she ever hope to see Jiang Ciyou’s reputation ruined, her life in shambles, left with nothing?

No—she had to tear them apart. She had to destroy Jiang Ciyou.

Watching Bo Jinxi’s retreating figure, she suddenly darted after him. Before he could get into his car, she shouted at his back, “Then you should know—Jiang Ciyou isn’t a virgin!”

“She lost her purity long ago—she’s already tainted!”

Bo Jinxi, who had been about to get into his car, abruptly turned and strode back toward her. He stood before Xia Ling, exuding a glacial aura like a mountain of frozen ice.

His face was grim, his eyes a storm of ancient frost.

Xia Ling, seeing him like this, felt a surge of satisfaction. What man could endure such a provocation? Even Yan Feng, with more than twenty years of affection for Jiang Ciyou, had been broken by this—the final straw that crushed the camel’s back.

Bo Jinxi’s voice was colder still, as sharp as a drawn dagger. “Miss Xia, did you travel here from the age of feudalism?”

“The old dynasty has long since fallen, yet your mind is still shackled by its dregs. For a woman to use such standards to shackle and oppress another woman—how contemptible.”

“Perhaps you yourself are still bound by those feudal, backward customs, but not all women are like you. They are free, radiant, and unafraid.”

“In my heart, no matter what Jiang Ciyou’s past may hold, no matter how many men she’s loved before, I don’t care. It is precisely those experiences that have shaped her into who she is now—standing before me, honest, luminous, and real.”

“To me, she is the cleanest, most precious woman in the world.”

“But you, Miss Xia—your thoughts, your deeds, are truly base and repugnant.”

Bo Jinxi, usually so sparing with his words in front of others, had never spoken at such length.

Xia Ling, facing his imposing, unyielding presence, felt a crushing pressure that made it hard to breathe. The sunset cast its glow upon him, almost as if he were a deity descended to earth.

But to her, his radiance was blinding—painfully so. The feeling was familiar; he and Jiang Ciyou seemed cut from the same cloth. They were born heirs to the sunlight, the darlings of fate.

People like her were nothing more than moss creeping in the shadows. The brighter their light, the more she wanted to drag them into the abyss—make them taste darkness as she had.

Xia Ling was struck dumb, unable to utter another word. Her whole body trembled with rage and a sense of injustice. Why did everyone in this world love Jiang Ciyou?

Bo Jinxi took a step forward, half of his body slipping into the shadow cast by the building. Standing against the light, his aura turned savage, almost cruel—a demon risen from hell, his presence chilling to the bone.

His voice was as cold as death itself, carrying a threat that made the hairs on her neck stand up.

“Xia Ling, if I hear you slander Jiang Ciyou again, or try to smear her name—even a single word—be careful with your tongue.”

This was no warning—it was a promise of retribution.

How had she ever thought he was some righteous god of the heavens? Clearly, he was a demon from the abyss. Even the blue earring at his ear seemed to gleam with wickedness.

A chill ran down Xia Ling’s spine. She knew, in that moment, that he truly had the power to tear her apart. The pressure was so intense it suffocated her, made her shiver helplessly.

Bo Jinxi said no more. He left her standing there, frozen and cold.

He drove off, his car racing through the city, weaving between the buildings at breakneck speed. Eventually, he pulled over and slammed his fist against the steering wheel.

He admitted to himself, Xia Ling’s words had unsettled him.

He and Jiang Ciyou were not strangers to each other’s bodies; of course he knew. Everything he’d just said to Xia Ling was the absolute truth. There was nothing about it that made him look down on Jiang Ciyou in the slightest.

He remembered their first time together—he’d felt regret. But it wasn’t regret for Jiang Ciyou.

He only regretted that he had found her far too late.