fool.
Yang Qingheng looked at the man whose smugness was written all over his face, shook her head, and closed the door.
Turning his head, he saw the relaxed smile in the woman's eyes in the mirror, his face stiffened, and he immediately became expressionless. He kicked off his shoes and scrambled into the quilt.
She realized that her brain was being infected by that idiot Song Hengjue.
…………
She should like that, right?
In the bathroom, Song Hengjue reached out and tied the belt of his bathrobe. He stared intently at the mirror, his ears burning red, his eyes darting around, and his little finger casually tugged at one of the belts of his bathrobe.
With just a gentle grab, the clothes would fall right off, and Yang Qingheng wouldn't be able to deny it even if she wanted to.
Thinking of that scene, Song Hengjue's gaze snapped back as if burned, and he quickly tied it up, covering himself completely.
No, no, no, what if Yang Qingheng thinks he's frivolous?
After what seemed like an eternity of mental preparation, the man finally took a deep breath, abruptly opened the door, and met the serene face of the woman on the bed. The heat coursing through his body instantly subsided.
"Yang Qingheng?"
He called out, but the woman on the bed did not respond; she seemed to be truly asleep.
Yang Qingheng wasn't unaware of the man's voice; however, the week-long journey had left her exhausted, her mind heavy and unable to process what was happening.
After an unknown amount of time, the room finally quieted down, and then there was a click—the sound of the door locking.
The last nerve in my brain suddenly snapped, plunging me into complete darkness.
However, the next second, the drowsiness in her mind was jolted awake by a hot body, and she reflexively sat up and covered her chest.
This man didn't leave; he clearly climbed into bed!
Yang Qingheng laughed in exasperation, and in the darkness, kicked him in the direction of the shadows: "Who are you trying to scare to death?"
The burning sensation under her feet, followed by a heavy, uncomfortable panting sound, made Yang Qingheng realize what was beneath her feet. Her face flushed crimson, and she angrily demanded, "Why aren't you wearing any clothes?!"
"I won't wear it!" the man said sullenly, grabbing her ankle and shamelessly rubbing against her. His hot breath trembled, making her heart itch.
He refused to believe that he still couldn't get a formal title after all he'd done!
The warm, moist air lingered on my neck, carrying a sense of urgency, while the darkness spoke of something obscure.
Adrenaline surged to her head; the physiological reaction didn't lie. Faint sparks crackled and popped, igniting the winter night air, fireworks exploding in Yang Qingheng's mind.
Song Hengjue noticed that the woman did not reject him, and his heart trembled slightly. He loosened his grip on her lower abdomen, and his cool lips brushed against her soft hair and delicate neck before pressing against her soft, rosy lips, following his memory.
No one spoke to stop this grand ceremony in the night. The sound of the wind outside the window subsided, and the man's trembling fingertips touched her cheek, with a tentative touch.
A hand swept across his abs and landed on his chest, gripping his collar tightly.
Song Hengjue felt like he had gone mad. He shuddered, flipped over and forcefully pinned her down, pressing the back of her head against his lips, stealing all the air from her mouth and tongue.
"Alright, stop fooling around." The woman's breathing tightened as she pushed his cheek away.
"Yang Qingheng, you can feel it, can't you?" The heat in Song Hengjue's eyes was about to meet her lips.
"Stop messing around," Yang Qingheng sighed, grabbing his stubble and rubbing it. "I have to take the train tomorrow, I'm tired."
Song Hengjue was dejected and stared at her silently for a long time. Just when Yang Qingheng thought he hadn't given up, the man crawled out of the covers, and the sound of him getting dressed came from the darkness.
He whispered something in Yang Qingheng's ear, carefully tucked her in, picked up his watch, and a flash of light appeared in the darkness before disappearing with the sound of the door closing.
That mouth of his deserves a beating!
Yang Qingheng was stunned for a long time before she realized what the man had said. She punched the pillow twice, wishing she had hit Song Hengjue's head instead of the pillow.
Early the next morning.
Song Hengjue looked refreshed and came in from outside carrying two bags of breakfast.
Thinking of the woman's gentle attitude last night, his heart bubbled with joy, and a hint of a smile couldn't be suppressed from his eyes.
All the good mood came to an abrupt end the moment I opened the door.
Song Hengjue stared at the empty room, then ran outside and grabbed a waiter: "Where did all the girls in here go?"
"They checked out an hour ago, didn't they tell you?" The waitress found it strange; this couple was acting strangely, one after the other. They checked out early in the morning, and when one of them came back, he grabbed her, a stranger, and asked her where her wife was.
Song Hengjue held the breakfast in his hand, and was so angry he laughed.
He said that the woman was so nice to him last night, it turned out to be a delaying tactic, all for the sake of his escape today!
He was so regretful that he wanted to slap himself on the spot.
He knew he shouldn't have trusted that wicked woman, Yang Qingheng. Going to buy breakfast so early in the morning—he was incredibly stupid.
He chased after it, but no matter how fast he drove, he could only see the tail of the train billowing black smoke in the distance.
My heart was pounding, and everything seemed to overlap with what happened six years ago.
He sniffed, and the breakfast in his hand flew in an arc into the trash can next to him.
Let her starve to death.
…………
"Didn't you go to the south with Yang Qingheng? Why are you back so soon?" Fang Nan rested his chin on his hand, chatting with his secretary in the office with a smile. When he saw Song Hengjue's familiar cold face enter, his scalp tingled, and he subconsciously straightened up.
"Why would I need to report to you?" Song Hengjue was in a bad mood. He gave him a cold look and pushed open the office door to go in.
Fang Nan rolled his eyes and said sarcastically, "Tsk, I deserve to be a punching bag, you have a high salary, you're awesome."
Seeing his discomfiture, Mo Yao burst out laughing.
A voice came from inside the office: "Mo Yao, come in here for a moment."
The smile vanished abruptly.
Now it was Fang Nan's turn to laugh. He pointed at her nose and said, "Serves you right!"
"I'm the secretary-general, I'll make things difficult for you." Mo Yao snorted coldly and pushed open the door to Song Hengjue's office.
Respectfully: "Mr. Song, you wanted to see me?"
Song Hengjue raised his chin, gesturing for her to close the door, and personally poured her a cup of hot tea, his attitude being quite attentive.
Mo Yao's lips twitched, somewhat speechless, yet a strange sense of pride rose within her. After all, not many people could have their boss personally pour them tea; she was practically the only one in the company to do so.
“Here’s the thing, I mentioned before that I have a friend who tried all the methods you suggested, and he… also got slept with,” Song Hengjue swallowed, his eyes darting around, “but the woman doesn’t recognize me after she’s done with her pants up, and she ran away, what should we do?”
"I slept with you?!" Mo Yao choked on a mouthful of hot tea, her face turning red.
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