Chapter 42 Sitting on my lap “I mean…feeding with my mouth”…

Ying Shixue's hand was still on her tie. Her steps forward seemed to be paused in mid-air, as if a pause button had been pressed. After a moment, she withdrew her hand and stood still in place.

Fang Zhi booked the room to the highest standard, and the chairs inside were unusually large. Song Mingli sat in the chair, one elbow resting on the armrest, while the other hand casually fiddled with something.

Ying Shixue's good eyesight allowed him to see clearly that it was his name tag from when he was still at the SK headquarters in Fancheng.

Upon seeing him enter, Song Mingli slowly stopped what he was doing, lifted his eyelids slightly, and looked at him.

Bathed in the hotel's cool, white light, his face was strikingly handsome, to the point that one might subconsciously feel a sense of menace or unease upon first glance.

How did he end up here? The fatigue from the banquet washed over her, and Ying Shixue's thoughts raced through her jumbled mind: Who told him my room number? Why didn't they turn on the lights when they came...?

To an outsider, the pause might not even have lasted a second. Ying Shixue's face was cold and her shoulders were straight as she silently met his gaze.

"Come here." A few seconds later, Song Mingli spoke, his tone casual yet unquestionable. He leaned back slightly against the chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing well-defined muscles in his forearms.

It was a very relaxed and confident demeanor, conveying unparalleled credibility and overwhelming power to the outside world.

Ying Shixue remained silent for a while, then finally lifted her leg again and walked up to him.

They were no more than half a meter apart, one standing and one sitting. Although the seated person had slightly raised their head and lowered their eyelashes due to their positions, the seated person exuded a commanding presence and a sense of impending danger, while the standing person, seemingly superior, actually had removed their oversized suit jacket, revealing a pitifully thin figure under their white shirt.

The hotel's private space, unknown to anyone, was a place and time that was somewhat ambiguous. Ying Shixue's jaw gradually tightened, and her nerves tensed up again, as if all her warning lines had been pulled to the threshold.

Song Mingli looked at him for a while, then adjusted his chair to a more comfortable position, which inexplicably reminded one of some ferocious beast lurking before hunting, hoping to strike with certainty: "I heard that you've been following up on that Sheng'an project here recently?"

He was actually quite tired, having stood for three or four hours at the banquet, and his legs were starting to ache, but he remained calm and said, "This is Sheng'an headquarters, so it's easier to handle some things here."

Song Mingli hummed in agreement, his voice unreadable: "I've looked at the application form you submitted. The plan and prospectus are both well-written, but I'm curious about something."

He paused here, a hint of interest in his eyes: "Back then, you were so resolute, preferring to lie to me rather than leave Fancheng. Didn't you ever think that as long as I was still in SK, one day you would come begging to me?"

Ying Shixue's lips were pressed so tightly they were almost white, forming a straight line. Song Mingli curled his fingers and tapped the table with his knuckles.

It was only then that Ying Shixue noticed that on the small round table was a well-bound document and a large box whose contents were unclear.

His gaze lingered on the document cover for a few seconds, and he was taken aback—it was none other than the application he had submitted.

Song Mingli: "Open that box and lay out the contents."

Seeing that he didn't move, Song Mingli smiled, but the smile was already tinged with coldness: "Young Master Ying, when you need someone's help, you should adopt the posture of someone asking for help."

Ying Shixue stood there for a while, then walked closer to the table and reached out to open the box.

Surprisingly, inside were not any other things, but lunch boxes well-preserved in insulated bags. He placed the boxes on the table and opened them one by one. The dishes were exquisite, but each portion was small, accompanied by a small bowl of rice.

He went to the box to get cutlery, paused for a moment, and found there was only one set of spoon and chopsticks inside.

Song Mingli's voice came from behind: "You don't think I came all this way just to have dinner with you, do you?"

Ying Shixue's expression remained unchanged from her eyebrows to the corners of her eyes; she simply turned around, her voice devoid of emotion: "I didn't mean that."

Song Mingli looked at him and said, "I'm hungry, come and feed me."

If it wasn't obvious before, this sentence really has a bit of an insulting meaning to it. There's no other chair here. Does he think it's not enough for Ying Shixue to set out the food, but that he has to stand up and serve him food and soup?

Song Mingli seemed to have noticed his predicament as well, and suddenly smiled, revealing a sinister and cunning look.

He patted his thigh and said as if it were the most natural thing in the world: "Sit here."

Ying Shixue's brow twitched violently. Song Mingli didn't press him, but changed the subject: "You don't have to sit down, but your application form will probably have to be put on hold."

"Time is so tight, every extra day means more expenses and money, you don't want that..."

Before he could finish speaking, his leg suddenly felt heavy.

With the warm, soft flesh in his arms, Song Mingli wasn't sure if he had let out a sigh. Ying Shixue pursed her lips, her profile as smooth as if carved from ice jade. After cleaning the bowl and chopsticks, she picked up a shrimp and held it to Song Mingli's lips.

Song Mingli tilted his head slightly to avoid his chopsticks.

“What I mean is,” he raised his hand and gently touched Ying Shanxue’s lips, “to feed her with your mouth.”

Ying Shixue turned around abruptly, about to put down her chopsticks and leave, but Song Mingli had already taken a bite of the shrimp.

At the same time, the arm that had been subtly placed on Ying Shixue's waist since the moment she sat down suddenly pulled her into his arms and pressed her lips against Ying Shixue's.

Their lips met and their tongues darted back and forth. Ying Shixue tried desperately to push him, but her strength was like a mayfly trying to shake a tree. Song Mingli's hands seemed to have been rehearsed countless times beforehand, holding her firmly and preventing any possibility of escape.

The shrimp meat was bouncy and burst open with sweetness when squeezed. Ying Shixue tried to push the shrimp meat out, but Song Mingli grabbed her tongue and pressed it hard, then held the back of her head and kissed her fiercely.

The manner was incredibly fierce, almost as if it intended to chew him up and swallow him whole. He saw bursts of white light due to lack of oxygen and excessive stimulation.

In the past, even if Song Mingli was not very restrained when kissing him, he would at least give him time to breathe. But now, he didn't even stop in the middle. When he realized that Song Mingli was about to suffocate, he gave him a breath.

Yet he never lingers, forcing people to instinctively approach him, to chase after him seeking that little bit of oxygen, and then being kissed even deeper with their tongues intertwined.

When she was finally released, Ying Shixue had no idea how much time had passed. Her hands and legs were weak, and she leaned against the man's broad and strong chest. She didn't know if her eyelashes were closed or not, and she was panting heavily.

Song Mingli put his arm around him, took a bowl and chopsticks from the table, picked up the dishes, and fed him bite by bite.

He was so busy socializing and talking at the banquet that he barely ate anything all night, and his stomach was burning up in waves.

The dishes on the table were all small in portion and lightly seasoned, seemingly carefully adjusted according to someone's appetite and mealtime. Moreover, as far as he knew, Song Mingli preferred saltier, spicier, and stronger flavors...

But no matter what, he couldn't accept being fed while being held on someone's lap at his age. He turned his face away and tried to get off, but then he realized that Song Mingli's hands had been gripping his hip bones the whole time, and hadn't been removed for a single moment since he sat on him.

His shirt was tucked into his trousers, but the burning heat of his palms seemed to penetrate the skin and burn straight into the depths of one's heart.

"Don't move," Song Mingli said with a smile, though there wasn't a trace of amusement in his tone.

With her other hand, she turned his chin upside down, forcing him to face her: "Will you eat these with my chopsticks, or will I feed you with my mouth?"

Song Mingli picked up a piece of green vegetable from the table. Ying Shixue remained silent for a while, then reluctantly lowered her head and took a bite of the vegetable.

Ying Shixue eats very elegantly. He doesn't eat too much at once, and he keeps his mouth closed and doesn't make any noise while eating. Only his cheeks move slightly, so people can tell that he is indeed chewing.

Under the light, the beauty's eyebrows and eyes became even more beautiful. Her long, thick, and well-fitting eyelashes cast small shadows under her eyes, and their soft curves were like fragile butterfly wings, as if they would break if folded.

From this angle, Ying Shixue's slender shoulders and shoulder blades are very prominent, but even when sitting, her posture is very upright.

Song Mingli's large hand, which was placed on his lower back, slowly moved upwards, gently stroking the prominent shoulder blades through the thin layer of fabric.

His hand was behind his back, hidden from the snow, but the gesture didn't seem intimate; rather, it seemed to contain some deeper, more suppressed, unspeakable emotion.

Half an hour later, Ying Shixue finally finished eating all the food and held a small bowl of white fungus and lotus seed soup, sipping it slowly.

He had fought hard to stop Song Mingli from feeding him, and although he was forced to kiss him for a while under some pretext, he finally gained some freedom of movement with his hands.

That was something Song Mingli had instructed beforehand: add sugar, warm it, put it in a thermos to control the temperature, and clean out the lotus seed hearts—if it's bitter, Ying Shixue won't drink it.

Song Mingli didn't clear the dishes; he simply put them aside, knowing the hotel would clean them tomorrow. He then picked up Ying Shixue and headed to bed.

Ying Shixue refused him; he had just returned from a banquet and hadn't even taken a shower yet, so he absolutely refused to go to bed with her like that.

"You've already taken my phone and ID card." After searching every pocket of his body to make sure all his identification and communication devices were taken, Song Mingli confronted Ying Shixue at the bathroom door, who was holding a bath towel.

Song Mingli held onto what he was holding, as if he were grasping something more desirable, and stood firmly between him and the bathroom without backing down.

Ying Shixue knew what he was wary of, or rather, they both tacitly understood each other. He was silent for a moment: "This is the 23rd floor."

Even a god couldn't possibly climb out of this window.

Song Mingli seemed to be slightly comforted by the implied meaning of those words, although his expression remained gloomy.

Finally, Ying Shixue closed her eyes and said, "The bathroom door is made of semi-transparent glass."

Song Mingli was taken aback.

A moment later, Ying Shixue walked past him and opened the bathroom door.

When Fang Zhi made the order, he never expected that someone would suddenly appear out of nowhere. He didn't think much about privacy at all, as he was just a one-man operation.

Forget about the bathroom; the bed, though big enough, still felt cramped with two adult men sleeping in it.

Ying Shixue turned to the side, looking at the opposite wall. Her mind became increasingly clear after being overly exhausted, or rather, as soon as she closed her eyes, many things rushed to her mind uncontrollably.

He gently turned over, and when he turned his head, he was facing Song Mingli, who was also still awake.