Shen Qinghe lay on the bed, not daring to move, even her breathing became cautious. Every sound outside the window would make Shen Qinghe's tightly closed eyes tremble slightly.
As the night deepened, he vaguely heard light footsteps outside. The unlocked door was gently pushed open, and his heart tightened. He subconsciously held his breath. As the footsteps approached, a faint fragrance wafted into his nose, like a woman's unique scent, sweet and alluring.
The footsteps stopped in front of his bed. Shen Qinghe felt a slightly cool hand gently caress his cheek. The fingertips were soft and delicate, just like the hands that had been applying ice to his face during the day.
He tried to open his eyes, but found himself bound by an invisible force, unable to move. He could only let the owner of those hands freely caress him, stroking his neck, his fingertips lightly dancing on his Adam's apple, then lingering around his collar for a moment before quietly slipping inside his clothes and landing on his chest.
His breathing gradually quickened, his chest heaving up and down, but those hands refused to stop, continuing to roam over his body. Wherever their fingertips touched, it was as if they ignited clusters of flames, making his whole body feel hot.
A warm breath touched her ear, and a familiar voice rang in her ears, "Qinghe, are you feeling unwell? Shall I take a look at you?"
The ending note rises slightly, carrying a touch of alluring warmth, lingering and poignant.
He could no longer restrain himself and tried to grab the hands that were igniting fires everywhere but not giving him any relief, but he only managed to grab empty air.
Suddenly, he woke up to find himself still lying in bed, surrounded by silence. When he sat up, a thin layer of sweat had formed on his forehead. After his breathing calmed down, he looked down and saw that the bedding was in disarray, but the door to the room was tightly closed, with no sign of it being opened.
Shen Qing felt both ashamed and helpless. She raised her hand to cover her face, and her hoarse voice rang out, "It's really... ridiculous..."
The next morning, Meng Zhao stretched and sat up in bed. She had slept soundly without any dreams and felt refreshed. She put on her clothes and strolled into the courtyard. The cool air made her shiver involuntarily.
While brushing my teeth, I noticed clothes and bed sheets hanging by the courtyard wall and muttered to myself, "Why are they doing laundry so early in the morning? Aren't they cold?"
Aunt Suyun, who had come to work early in the morning, couldn't help but cover her mouth and laugh when she heard Meng Zhao's words. Meng Zhao looked at her curiously, and Aunt Suyun, seeing her blank expression, and remembering that she was a married woman, lowered her voice and said, "I came here early this morning and saw Shen Erlang squatting in the corner washing clothes. I asked him the same question, but he hesitated and wouldn't answer."
He couldn't help but laugh again as he said this, "Hey, I'm getting old, and my child is about the same age as him, how could I not know? Erlang, you've grown up."
Hearing her say that, Meng Zhao immediately understood. The image of Shen Qinghe getting up early to do laundry and being caught in the act flashed through her mind, and she couldn't help but laugh along.
It's really hard to guess what's on a young person's mind. Yesterday I was worried that he might have been wronged outside, but who knew he was perfectly fine. He's such a young man, full of energy.
Seeing that Aunt Suyun next to him also had a funny look on her face, Meng Zhao quickly said, "Alright, alright, Aunt, young people are shy, don't mention this to others."
Aunt Suyun knew, nodded, and went back to her work.
Because of the county examination, the county school was closed, so Shen Qinghe stayed at home all day. In the morning, Meng Zhao saw that Shen Qinghe's door was closed, so he didn't call him.
It was almost noon and he still hadn't come out. Meng Zhao was a little puzzled. Even if he was shy, he shouldn't be too embarrassed to see anyone all morning, right?
So he walked to Shen Qinghe's door, raised his hand and knocked lightly twice, "Second brother, what are you doing in the room?"
Before the door could even be knocked twice, it was opened from the inside. Meng Zhao's hand was still hanging in mid-air when Shen Qinghe stood at the door, his gaze falling on Meng Zhao's frozen hand. The embarrassing scenes from last night resurfaced in his mind, and his thoughts drifted uncontrollably away.
Seeing this, Meng Zhao withdrew his hand, tilted his head and looked him up and down, "Second brother, you've finished your exams, what are you doing staying in the room all the time? Come out and get some sun, don't get bored."
Looking at that smiling face that was no different from usual, Shen Qinghe felt a surge of inexplicable grievance. It was clearly she who started this, so why was he the only one who couldn't sleep at night, while she could talk to him so casually, as if nothing had happened, and even had the leisure to bask in the sun?
Her tone unconsciously carried a hint of resentment as she said, "I'm drawing patterns for a gift box for my sister-in-law."
Meng Zhao then remembered that a few days ago, the carving master who cooperated with the Treasure Pavilion was not strict in controlling the quality of the gift boxes and even tried to cheat them with silver. However, since the gift boxes used their patterns, it was not easy to change the person in time.
She asked He Jianxia to find a few painters, but she wasn't satisfied with any of the designs they brought up. She mentioned this during dinner, and Shen Qinghe agreed to paint a few for her once the results were announced.
Meng Zhao felt a warmth in her heart. "You child, how can you be so honest? I'm not in such a hurry."
"What I promised my sister-in-law is the most important thing," Shen Qinghe replied with utmost seriousness.
Meng Zhao was amused by his serious expression and said with a smile, "Is that so? Then let me see how your drawing is."
Shen Qinghe panicked and quickly stopped her, "It's not finished yet, and it's almost noon. I'd better make lunch first."
He couldn't let Meng Zhao know that he had spent the whole morning in the house with all sorts of random thoughts in his head, and hadn't even finished drawing a single picture.
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