Song Ci looked up and waved at Han Zhan, saying, "Brother Han, come quickly."
Han Zhan strode in. "What are you doing?" Han Zhan stood behind Song Ci, his hands on the armrests of the chair, his head lowered to watch her every move.
Song Ci looked up at him, her smile bright and her eyes sparkling with stars. Her lips moved as she spoke, her teeth white as pearls. "I've made a chart here. Write it down for me."
Han Zhan's gaze lingered on her red lips for a few seconds before he took the paper and looked down at it.
It says—
Han Ge's hobbies:
Favorite food:
Disliked food:
Hobbies and Interests：
Dislikes:
...
Han Zhan asked, "Is it necessary to write it?" He had never written this before. Even when he wrote the graduation yearbook when he graduated from high school, it was not so detailed.
"Yes." Song Ci said, "We are husband and wife, I must understand you."
That’s true.
Han Zhan placed the paper on the table. Leveraging his height, he could write by bending slightly. Song Ci, along with her chair, was enclosed in Han Zhan's embrace. She lowered her head slightly, resting it against Han Zhan's chest. Being so close, Song Ci felt a little uncomfortable.
But Han Zhan's expression remained calm, his pen tracing the paper as he wrote each character in a flamboyant and elegant style. Song Ci felt the powerful heartbeat of Han Zhan above her head, and her heartbeat also became disordered and irregular.
Song Ci tried to focus on the paper, but Han Zhan's presence was too strong for her to ignore. She could smell the cold air on him, and if she raised her head slightly, she could kiss his collarbone just inside the two buttons of his open collar...
Song Ci gripped the chair with his fingers, ready to move.
Han Zhan had no idea how confused Song Ci's mind was. He wrote on the paper word by word -
Favorite food: Meat, stinky tofu, coriander, Chinese toon, steamed eggs, braised pig's trotter...
Disliked foods: pickled mustard tuber, bitter melon, Japanese food.
Hobbies: shooting, horse riding, racing, bamboo weaving...
Dislikes: Wasting food...
He had just written the character for "food waste" when a puff of hot air suddenly hit his face. Han Zhan's eyes flickered slightly, and he glanced down at Song Ci warningly, saying, "Don't be naughty."
"Brother Han, can you move what you are going to do tomorrow night to tonight?" Song Ci, who had been silent the whole time, stunned Han Zhan when she spoke.
Click!
The tip of the fountain pen was broken off forcefully on the A4 paper.
Han Zhan's Adam's apple was large and sexy, like the strongest shield in front of his throat. At this moment, the shield rolled up and down involuntarily. It was not protecting its owner's throat, but the iron door of a prison, imprisoning the most ferocious beast.
Song Ci knew what Han Zhan was worried about. She gently pulled Han Zhan's collar with her right hand and said with a blushing face: "We are already husband and wife..."
"No regrets?" Han Zhan's nose touched Song Ci's forehead, and his restrained voice still couldn't hide his desire.
Song Ci's breathing trembled slightly, but she nodded firmly, "No regrets."
Han Zhan released his left hand, and the pen fell to the table. Song Ci flew into the air and was carried into Han Zhan's arms, returning to the room. With the click of the door being locked, Song Ci had no room to retreat.
--
At half past twelve, Song Ci was finally released by Han Zhan. Her eyes were slightly red, and she lay limply on the sofa, wrapped in a thin blanket. She wasn't feeling well, not in pain, but rather a sense of something missing.
Song Ci couldn't help feeling a little sad.
Han Zhan was changing the sheets. He had already showered, and his back, already covered in scars, was now covered in scratches from a girl's fingernails.
After laying out the bed, Han Zhan turned around. His muscular body didn't look massive, but it was full of thriving strength. Song Ci was still sizing him up, her gaze fixed, generous and unpretentious.
This is her husband, and it's not a crime to look at him. Han Zhan didn't mind being looked at like this by Song Ci. He tightened the towel around his waist, walked over and asked Song Ci, "Are you going to sleep?"
Song Ci: "So tired..." Then, she suddenly shut her mouth. Was that still her voice? It was dry and hoarse.
Han Zhan considerately picked up Song Ci from the sofa, put her on the bed, turned around and left the room, not knowing where he was going.
Song Ci was sweating, her short hair limp against the neck brace. Putting her on the bed, her eyelids felt heavy, as if she was about to fall asleep.
At this time, Han Zhan came back, holding a transparent glass with honey water in it. Han Zhan patted Song Ci's cheek, and Song Ci woke up. Han Zhan dragged her head and fed her a few sips of honey water in a daze.
My throat seems to be feeling better.
Han Zhan put down the cup, then took off his bath towel and changed into pajamas. Song Ci suddenly thought of something and opened her eyes to glance at the clock on the wall. Seeing that the hour hand had passed twelve o'clock, she smiled meaningfully.
Han Zhan looked at her with some confusion, "What are you laughing at?"
Song Ci pointed at the clock on the wall and said intriguingly, "From foreplay to the end of washing up, it took a total of four hours."
Han Zhan also looked back at the clock.
It's already half past twelve.
Han Zhan, understanding Song Ci's hint, felt a rare moment of embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I lost my composure." Song Ci's attraction to Han Zhan was even deeper than he had imagined. He had lost control tonight.
It is difficult for a clean man in his thirties to control himself when he suddenly tastes the bitterness of it.
Han Zhan stared at Song Ci's beautiful lips, thought carefully, and answered honestly: "For you, it's difficult."
Oh my god, what a seductive thing to say!
I'm being targeted!
Song Ci turned over and buried her face in the pillow, too embarrassed to look at Han Zhan.
Song Ci had previously complained that Han Zhan's leather gloves felt uncomfortable against her skin, so she had asked him to remove them. Han Zhan hesitated for a moment, then complied with her. Now, as Song Ci was about to fall asleep, Han Zhan sat on the other side of the bed, intending to put on his prosthetic fingers.
Song Ci suddenly reached out and snatched his fake finger, placing it on the bedside table. She said, "Why wear it so late at night? It's unnecessary."
Han Zhan wanted to say something, but he was afraid of scaring you. After a brief silence, Han Zhan finally told the truth, "If you woke up in the morning and suddenly saw a hand with only three fingers, you would be scared."
Song Ci stared at Han Zhan's face with a complicated look, and her lips moved a few times. Song Ci really wanted to tell Han Zhan that his hand really wasn't that ugly. "Then I'll sleep outside and you sleep inside, so that when I wake up, the first thing I see is your left hand."
Han Zhan added, "I'm afraid that after I fall asleep, my right hand will involuntarily hug you."
Song Ci wanted to roll her eyes again and said unhappily, "Then just kill him, okay?" She was so fussy and had so many things to do.
Han Zhan knew Song Ci was angry, so he didn't insist. He put down his fake finger and lay down on the other side. After living with Song Ci, this was the first time Han Zhan took off his gloves to sleep, and it felt good.
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