It wasn't until two years later that I understood why I had that feeling at that moment, and why the smell of cigarettes on him seemed so familiar.
Because he is my biological father.
When I was little, I loved to cling to my dad's hand and smell the cigarette smoke on his skin...
As soon as I entered, Fu Yanshen put down his shopping bag and forcefully pinned me against the door with a deep kiss.
I had barely caught my breath when his hand eagerly slipped under the hem of my sweater, his rough palms rubbing my skin like sandpaper, a ticklish, slightly painful sensation.
"Ugh... what's gotten into you all of a sudden..." I protested irritably, already feeling weak and listless from his teasing.
"You're jealous." He whispered in a deep voice, kissing my earlobe.
I was taken aback. Was he jealous of Minister Ye?
"You were staring at him like a head-on! He's so attractive to you, huh?" Fu Yanshen said through gritted teeth in a low voice, sounding like a resentful husband.
I was speechless. "You're jealous of an older man? He could be my dad..."
Before he could finish speaking, he pressed me down onto the entryway cabinet, lifted my long skirt, and revealed a box of Okamoto 001 cigarettes in his hand. He must have taken it while I wasn't looking during our shopping trip.
This was our favorite model before; it's extremely thin.
In the mirror, a well-dressed, aloof, and ascetic man had a piece of tinfoil between his teeth. He tore it off forcefully, and in an instant, his hormones exploded.
In the instant we became one, he didn't move immediately. He simply buried his face in the back of my neck and hugged me tightly, as if trying to feel my presence.
"Qiaoqiao... this is the only time I feel truly at ease..." he whispered in my ear after what seemed like an eternity.
Having witnessed his mother's murder at a young age and experienced a near-dive into the sea, Fu Yanshen suffers from severe psychological trauma and borderline personality disorder.
Suspicious, black and white thinking, afraid of being abandoned, and possessive.
In the past, when he saw Sheng Qiaoqiao flirting with other women, he would often suddenly and fiercely possess her like this.
Only in this way can he feel at ease and safe.
Only at this moment did he believe that she was his and that she would not abandon him.
"Fu Yanshen, no more... I have to go to the film studio on a business trip tomorrow and I have to get up early to catch my flight!" In the messy bed, I protested with a hoarse voice, weakly punching him with my fist.
His burning gaze pierced me. "My dear Qiaoqiao, say you love me, and I'll let you go!"
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