Chapter 92 Night fell, and in the kitchen...

Night had fallen, and the warmth of dinner still lingered in the kitchen.

The aunt went home after cooking, so Cheng Mingdu was given the task of cleaning up the dishes to give them more time together.

Ye Yuying moved a swivel chair into the study and began studying Cheng Mingdu's bookshelf.

My phone vibrated in my pocket—it was an international call from Li Song.

She glanced at the incoming call, her eyes darkening, and then pressed the answer button.

“Yu Ying, once you decide when to leave, I can start preparing to submit your preoperative assessment report.” Li Song’s voice was filled with ambient noise, reflecting the busy atmosphere.

"The hospital will confirm a bed soon, and you can leave at any time."

Ye Yuying gripped the book tightly in her hand, her fingers tracing the smooth, textured surface of the cover, and whispered, "...So soon?"

"I can't leave anytime soon; the company's second phase hasn't gotten on track yet."

"The sooner the better." Li Song on the other end of the phone was completely from a doctor's perspective. "You understand the risks. I don't want you to delay any longer. No matter how important the company is, it's not as important as your health."

"But...no one can guarantee the outcome 100%, can they?"

The noise in the kitchen had stopped sometime earlier, and Cheng Mingdu appeared at the study door, holding a steaming cup of mint tea. She liked to drink some herbal tea after meals.

She noticed that Cheng Mingdu's figure stiffened for a moment when he arrived, and she lowered her voice and said, "I understand, I'll make the arrangements."

When the call ended, a lingering tension seemed to remain in the air.

She turned her head and met Cheng Mingdu's gaze.

It was as if someone had gently tapped the surface of the water beneath the current, and ripples spread silently in circles.

Cheng Mingdu's gaze was beneath the surface of the water, as calm as a diving alligator.

He was standing in the ceiling light, and when his gaze fell upon her, she felt a sudden, overwhelming tension.

But she clearly didn't need to be nervous.

But that gaze was like a sudden undercurrent in the depths of still water, carrying an undeniable questioning and a blatant possessiveness, causing a subtle imbalance in her heart.

This was a rare display of Cheng Mingdu's positive and unadorned emotions, like a pruned tree with no superfluous branches.

"Cheng Mingdu—" She had just opened her mouth when she found that there was no storm on the other side, but he walked in as usual, without the mint tea in his hand shaking at all.

Her gaze followed his every step, landing on the desk beside him, where the cup of mint tea lay.

In that instant, she breathed a sigh of relief, perhaps because Cheng Mingdu hadn't heard the conversation.

"Would you like some crème brûlée? Auntie made some and it's in the fridge."

His tone was gentle and mild, even less dramatic than usual.

Ye Yuying's mood was in turmoil. She wasn't afraid of the truth being revealed, but the unease in her heart seemed to be growing wildly in fertile fields, as if injected with a growth hormone.

She didn't know what to say next, so she stared intently at his face and nodded hesitantly, "I want to eat."

Cheng Mingdu responded without any change in emotion, turned around and went downstairs, only then did she breathe a sigh of relief.

A short while later, the sound of the refrigerator door being pulled open came from downstairs, followed by the sound of a plate lightly tapping on the countertop.

Everything was proceeding according to their ordinary daily routine, but Ye Yuying knew that the quieter the daily routine was, the more it resembled the sea before a storm.

Soon, footsteps approached again.

He pushed open the door and came in, holding a white porcelain plate in his hands. The pudding gleamed delicately under the warm yellow light, and the caramel layer was gently toasted until it curled slightly.

"Try it." He placed the plate in front of her, the spoon handle facing her, his movements still impeccably meticulous.

Ye Yuying picked up the spoon, took a spoonful, and the sweet fragrance melted on her tongue. When she looked up at him, she found that he had not sat down, but was standing to the side, seemingly casually glancing at the book she had just put down.

Beside the book's spine, the phone lay quietly, its screen silent and black.

"Why did you suddenly come to the study?" He came over and sat on the sofa next to her, asking slowly.

"Just browsing." She lowered her head, scooped up another spoonful of pudding, and avoided that gaze.

Cheng Mingdu hummed in agreement and didn't ask any further questions. He simply walked to the window and opened it a crack to let the night breeze in.

A cool breeze gently brushed against her wrist, causing her to grip the spoon tighter.

The air is filled with the cool scent of mint tea and the sweet aroma of caramel.

It felt like being trapped in a space where these two flavors intertwined, cloyingly sweet yet cool, making it impossible to tell whether the next wave would be gentle or chilling.

She put down her spoon and tried to ask in the most natural tone, "What's wrong?"

He didn't answer, but walked straight towards her, his steps steady as if pressing on her heart.

Only when he stood in front of her did he bend down, reach out and hold the back of her neck with a light touch that was irresistible.

Without warning or preparation, his kiss pressed down on her lips, gradually deepening in intensity, as if to confirm that she was still in his arms.

The breath was hot, with a hint of uncontrollable urgency, and the distance between their lips and teeth was completely erased.

She struggled slightly, trying to lift herself up a little, but he held her firmly in his arms, his arms so strong that she could hardly pull away.

She could feel his heart pounding rapidly, transmitted through his chest.

He only slowly released her when she was forced to tilt her head back, her breath ragged from the kiss, his forehead pressed against hers, his voice hoarse and direct:

"Ye Yuying, you are not allowed to go anywhere."

Her lips trembled slightly, and the bitterness welling up in her heart made her unwilling to refute anything for the moment.

They all knew that if a bird truly wanted to spread its wings, no one could hold it back.

There was no anger in Ye Yuying's eyes, but rather the embers of passion that had just passed, and she stared at him directly.

The next second, she closed her eyes, reached out and wrapped her arms around Cheng Mingdu's neck, offering her lips to him as if punishing him by doubling the force he had just used.

Only when it was the other person who was breathing rapidly did a satisfied smile appear in her eyes.

As the pressure on her neck eased, she fell backward as if she were falling off a cliff, spreading her arms wide and landing on the sofa.

Her hazy eyes looked down at him, her smile fading, and she suddenly said coolly, "Want to come?"

"What's wrong?" Upon seeing this, Cheng Mingdu shifted his gaze away from her and casually reached out to pull down her exposed lower abdomen to cover it.

“Don’t pretend you don’t understand, of course it’s something that will take you to hell.” Ye Yuying smiled, her face seemingly veiled by a misty white fog, her breath filled with the scent of mint.

Cheng Mingdu remained calm and composed, his voice regaining its rationality, "Your leg is also inconvenient."

"Who said there's only one way..."

As she finished speaking, the smile in her eyes, like a drop of ink, slowly seeped into the water, sinking to an unseen depth.

Cheng Mingdu stared at her, his fingertips tightening almost imperceptibly, as if he were clutching at some precarious boundary.

In that instant, he couldn't tell whether she was provoking him or begging him.

The sofa lamp divided her features in two, one half bright and the other half hidden in shadow, yet her eyes never wavered—as calm as a still lake, yet somehow making one suspect that undercurrents might surge at any moment.

“Ye Yuying,” he called her softly, with a hint of a reminder that was almost at its limit.

She smiled slightly, as if she hadn't heard his question, and instead slowly raised her hand, her fingertips sliding along the buttons of his shirt.

Her movements were so light, almost as if she were testing his nerves.

He grabbed her hand, not with much force, but enough to prevent her from moving forward even an inch.

He stared into her eyes, his voice low and hoarse, as if seeped into the night, "No..."

Ye Yuying chuckled softly, "What's wrong with that? It's not like it's our first time."

The moment those words were spoken, the sweet and cool scent in the air seemed to be struck simultaneously by a scorching iron block, emitting a very faint hiss before disappearing into the silent depths.

Ye Yuying let his silence stretch out the air, her eyes casting a halo of light as she crept forward under the moonlight.

His gaze gradually lowered, meeting her breath. The scent of mint and sweet caramel mingled, like the breeze of early spring evenings—cool yet carrying an unexpected warmth.

At this moment, time seemed to detach itself from the scales of a clock, and the past and present condensed into a still pool of light between them.

A breeze was blowing outside, making the night seem closer through the cracks in the window, carrying a damp scent from who-knows-where, which subtly dissipated some of the warmth in the room.

She guided his hand to the hem of her skirt, and when Cheng Mingdu's breath pressed down on her, her whole body felt as if it had been electrified, like a match igniting a spark, and she instantly burst into flames.

Upon hearing her breathing, Cheng Mingdu froze for a moment, then her hand lost its grip, and she slumped down.

Cheng Mingdu's eyes softened, and his breath came down on her, so close that it seemed he would swallow her up along with his breath.

The heat was not urgent, but patient, like a silent underground river in the night, slowly engulfing her limbs and heart with its tide.

When that touch landed, her back straightened abruptly, and a fine tremor traveled up her meridians, like a plucked string vibrating from her bones to her brow.

The wind outside grew closer, carrying the coolness of the night, passing through the warmth of his palm. Cold and warmth intertwined on her skin, like tides and embers meeting in the darkness, permeating and entwining each other.

Her breathing gradually became erratic, like a duckweed caught in the waves, with nowhere to anchor itself.

Cheng Mingdu paused almost imperceptibly for a moment, gradually gaining control, yet struggling deep down to maintain control of his limbs.

His breath fell beside her ear. Ye Yuying looked up and, at such a close distance, saw the underlying meaning in his eyes. It wasn't an eager desire, but a kind of silent searching, as if he wanted to find some distant shadow in her expression at this moment.

She suddenly smiled, as if gently lifting a dusty veil from her heart; her voice was unhurried, carrying a hint of detached warmth:

Do you think I've changed at all compared to eight years ago?

As soon as the words were spoken, the air seemed to be gently pressed into the bottom of the water by the question.

The heat in his palms deepened and intensified in that instant.

He said, "I'm more sensitive now."