The snow outside the window had stopped sometime ago, and sunlight streamed through the heavy French windows, casting warm patches of light on the floor.

Yu Jiuyuan's bedroom was quiet, with only the occasional soft crackling of firewood in the fireplace and the overlapping breaths of the two people.

When Yu Jiuyuan woke up, the spot beside her was empty, with only a trace of warmth remaining.

She blinked, her hazy consciousness gradually returning, and the dryness in her throat lessened a bit, but her body still felt heavy, as if some of her strength had been drained away.

She sat up, wearing a bathrobe, her long hair loosely hanging over her shoulders. Her face was still pale from illness, but her eyes were surprisingly bright.

Like crystal that has been tempered with water, it appears pure and innocent at first glance, but upon closer inspection, one can discover the subtle hooks hidden deep within.

"woke up?"

Rong Shenghan's voice came from the doorway. He walked in carrying a tray with a bowl of congee and a small dish of appetizers on it.

He changed into some loungewear; the light gray knit sweater made him look even more gentle and refined. If it weren't for his eyes, which occasionally revealed a sharp edge, anyone would be fooled by his approachable demeanor.

Yu Jiuyuan didn't say anything, but simply lifted the blanket and moved to the side of the bed, stepping barefoot onto the soft cashmere carpet.

The neckline of her robe was a little loose, and it opened slightly with her movements, revealing a section of her fair and slender neck, as well as the delicate skin at her collarbone.

There were still faint pink marks left there from when he had gnawed on them a few days ago, like red plum blossoms blooming in the snow, particularly eye-catching.

Rong Shenghan's gaze lingered on the pink hue for a moment, his Adam's apple bobbing almost imperceptibly. He then casually placed the tray on the bedside table: "You just recovered from your fever, have some plain porridge to soothe your stomach."

He reached out to help her, but Yu Jiuyuan avoided him.

She looked up at him, her eyes still a little sleepy, and her voice was soft, with a hint of coquetry: "I can do it myself."

As she spoke, instead of reaching for the porridge bowl, she reached out and tugged at his sleeve, gently pulling it down.

Her fingertips were slightly cool, and when they touched his warm skin, it felt like a faint electric current running through her.

“Rong Shenghan,” she looked up at him, her long eyelashes like two small fans, “stay away from me, I’m afraid I’ll infect you.”

These words sounded considerate, but she didn't let go of his clothes. Instead, she took advantage of the situation and moved closer to him, almost touching him.

As their breaths mingled, her scent, a blend of medicinal fragrance and her own sweet, soft aroma, filled his nostrils without reservation.

Rong Shenghan chuckled softly, seeing through her little trick, but didn't expose her.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out to touch her forehead. Her temperature had dropped, but it still carried a little warmth. "Don't worry, I'm healthy."

His fingertips were calloused, and there was a slight tickling sensation when they touched her skin.

Yu Jiuyuan shrank her neck but did not dodge. Instead, she leaned into his arms, resting her head on his lap, her long hair spreading out, forming a soft black carpet.

"Then lie down with me for a while." She looked up at him, her eyes curving into crescents, but the smile inside held a hint of mischief. "I want to sleep a little longer, you can be my pillow."

Rong Shenghan raised an eyebrow, letting her adjust her posture and use his legs as a cushion.

He looked down at her, his gaze falling on the slightly open collar of her nightgown, where the view was faintly visible, as if silently seducing him.

This girl, she's not fully recovered from her illness yet, and she's already starting to get restless.

He raised his hand, his fingertips tracing her cheek, his voice low and husky: "Behave yourself, you just got over your fever."

Yu Jiuyuan seemed not to hear him. Instead, she reached out, hooked her arm around his neck, and gently pulled him down. Her breath brushed against his jawline, warm and tickling his nerves like a feather.

"You're not going to stay put," she said softly, her tone a mix of roguishness and seduction. "You've been tormenting me these past few days, now it's my turn to get my revenge."

As she spoke, she tilted her head back and leaned closer, her nose almost touching his chin.

Her long eyelashes fluttered gently, brushing against his skin and sending a shiver down his spine.

Rong Shenghan's eyes darkened instantly, like ripples spreading across a deep pool after a stone has been thrown in. He gripped her wrist, the force not heavy, but carrying an unyielding air: "Yu Jiuyuan."

"Hmm?" She blinked, her eyes almost overflowing with innocence, but her slightly pouting lips were a silent invitation.

The next second, she suddenly pulled him down with force, then leaned forward and gently pecked his lips.

Like a feather falling, it was so light that it was almost imperceptible, yet it instantly ignited the fuse.

Rong Shenghan's breath hitched, but he quickly took the initiative, holding the back of her neck and deepening the kiss.

His kiss was restrained yet irresistibly aggressive, as if he wanted to devour her whole.

Yu Jiuyuan obediently endured it, and even responded proactively.

Her hand slid down his neck, her fingertips hooking around the collar of his sweater, gently tugging at it, as if inviting him to take it a step further.

Her body still carried the weakness of post-illness, but the seduction in her movements was bold and direct, like a poppy blooming in the snow, knowing it was poisonous, yet making people unable to resist falling for it.

Just as the atmosphere was heating up and Rong Shenghan's hand was about to slip into her nightgown, Yu Jiuyuan suddenly pushed him away gently, a sly smile in her eyes, like a cat that had successfully stolen some fish.

"Stop fooling around," she gasped, her cheeks flushed, whether from the kiss or from the fever she was feeling unwell, "I'm hungry, I want some porridge."

Rong Shenghan: "..."

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