Chapter 56
Outside the inpatient ward at midnight, there was hardly anyone else in sight. The chilly early winter sky stretched endlessly overhead. A pale moon hung on the bare treetops.
The deep night concealed her painful moans.
"...Ugh...No..."
But he completely ignored her pleas, and with the greed and force of an aggressor, he seized her cold lips and drank her slightly bitter tears.
She tried to push him away weakly, her arms outstretched, but his muscles tensed. He restrained himself, giving her a little distance, and then pulled her close again just as they were about to separate. The shiver that ran through her body was like the feathers of a fledgling bird fluttering in a gentle breeze—frightened, delicate, and shy. Her fingers curled, her fingertips unconsciously scratching at his chest, lightly, tingly, and ticklish.
A gust of wind carried away his last bit of resolve; reason crumbled, desire overflowed, and he swept her up in his arms, carrying her towards the parking lot not far away…
The car was parked in the garage of Binjiang Jiuli Villa. He led her, and she entered the elevator in a daze. They passed the group of men and women drinking and making merry in the living room and went directly to the master bedroom on the third floor.
The moment she entered, the delicate fragrance of cedar trees instantly sobered her up.
"I……"
Before she could finish a single word, her mouth was silenced by his kiss. Her breath caught in his lips; her coat and handbag slipped off, her jacket was unbuttoned, her cardigan was undone.
Open, only a thin layer of ** remained... His figure kept approaching and enlarging, like a god.
Gradually, she lost her strength and became completely disoriented, clinging to his neck as if desperate for survival, craving a little oxygen. But she was repeatedly drawn into the vortex. Just as she was about to drown, he loosened his grip slightly. She turned her head away, clutching her chest and gasping for breath. Just when she thought he had finally taken pity on her, the next second she was placed on the bed. The bed was deep blue, like a dark island floating on the sea, or perhaps a trap prepared specifically for her.
His lips descended again, restless and unsatisfied, lingering on her nose, eyelids, and ears, confirming her presence again and again. His hands traced her jaw, neck, shoulders, and arms, exploring inch by inch, until their fingers intertwined.
His shirt was already off and tossed aside. In the midst of their embrace and kiss, he took her hand and moved it down to her waist. She was frightened and hesitated. Just as she showed signs of backing down, his large hand firmly supported her.
"Qingqing...give it to me..."
His deep, resonant voice rubbed against her eardrums, both melodious and dangerous.
She couldn't deny that she was attracted to him; she liked him...
All those principles, teachings, and self-admonitions she had previously upheld... her supposedly impregnable protective shell was shattered by him with a single, effortless blow. She was exposed, naked and vulnerable, to his gaze.
Let me just sink into despair...
Her body was stiff with tension, and her fingers were clumsy; the belt buckle was as hard to open as a door lock. She mustered her courage and fumbled for it, only to be interrupted by a sudden knocking on the door.
"Brother Chen, Brother Chen! You're back?"
Yan Qing held her breath, her eyes flashing with panic: "Who's in your house?"
Shen Hanyang gently stroked her cheek comfortingly, his eyes full of tenderness: "It's no one, don't pay any attention to him." He then leaned closer, but she covered his mouth.
"No!" she hissed in warning.
"Brother Chen! Brother Chen!" Bai Shaolin was still persistently knocking on the door.
Shen Hanyang's eyes darkened, and he put on his robe and stood up.
The door opened, and Shen Hanyang appeared in the doorway with a blank expression. His shirt was loosely buttoned at the top two buttons, and Bai Shaolin involuntarily took a step back: "Brother, your muscles are really... wow!"
"What brings you here?" Shen Hanyang asked impatiently, his face as cold as ice.
He was always so aloof, so Bai Shaolin was used to it. He shamelessly smiled and said, "Brother, when did you get back? You didn't even say a word. I thought you weren't home."
Shen Hanyang glanced at him; his face was flushed, he reeked of alcohol, his legs had recovered halfway, and he had somehow sneaked out to dye his hair a bright red like a shuttlecock.
"If you don't come back, you'll tear my house down," Shen Hanyang said coldly.
Bai Shaolin chuckled, "Bro, hey, come down and have some fun. I called a few really hot girls." He gestured with his hands to his chest, pointing to his breasts, and raised an eyebrow, saying, "Especially here, top-notch!"
"Is there anything else? If not, don't bother me."
Bai Shaolin quickly grabbed the door frame to prevent him from closing the door: "Oh right, oh right, a girl is looking for you, a very beautiful girl!"
Shen Hanyang's gaze sharpened, and a murderous aura instantly rose within him. Bai Shaolin immediately cowered, obediently releasing his grip on the doorframe and scratching his neck. Suddenly, he noticed something on the floor beside the door. Shen Hanyang's bedroom was dark, but he could vaguely make out that it was a woman's handbag.
"What's this……"
Before he could finish speaking, he was ruthlessly shut out.
Shen Hanyang's muscles bulged as if they were about to burst. As soon as he returned, he pulled the person on the bed back into his arms and kissed him deeply.
Yan Qing pushed him away: "No."
Shen Hanyang frowned: "Still not?"
"There are so many people downstairs..."
Her voice was soft, but her attitude was firm. Shen Hanyang was a little annoyed and secretly resolved to send Bai Shaolin away tomorrow.
He forced himself to lie down, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't suppress the burning desire within him, so he had to take a cold shower.
As I stepped out of the bathroom, a wisp of cool steam lingered behind me.
The bedside lamp was on. Yan Qing lay with her back to him, her long hair cascading down the pillow. Her arms, seeking coolness, were pressed against the dark blue satin quilt, the smooth lines running up her forearms to form a beautiful right angle at her shoulders and neck before disappearing into her cascading black hair.
He lay down next to her, stroking her elbow, his fingertips brushing over a patch of irregularly shaped, scattered, faint marks.
"How did you do that?" he asked.
She rarely wore short sleeves, and outsiders seldom noticed the scars on her arms. When she was little, she was making fried ribbonfish for Feng Yiming, but she overcooked it, complaining that it was too bitter and refusing to eat it. In a fit of anger, Meng Xianglan smashed the hot, oily pan at her. She dodged in time, but the scalding oil still left a large burn on her arm, which, over the years, has never faded, remaining stubbornly on her thin skin.
"It was an accident," she said with a smile, glossing over the matter.
He gazed at her silently from behind. She never spoke of her private affairs, responding to the world only with sincerity and kindness, as if those hardships and sufferings had never left a mark on her. He couldn't imagine how she had single-handedly endured countless hardships and setbacks over the years, only to be able to smile calmly in the face of life's trials and tribulations.
He kissed her wounds: "My little darling has suffered a lot."
That call of "Xiao Bao" brought tears to her eyes once more. The past had extinguished the healthy parts of her personality: positivity, optimism, hope, belief in love, and the courage to be loved… She had long been accustomed to negativity and prepared for a life of solitude, but she never expected that someone would be willing to go to such lengths to understand her. Originally, many questions swirled in her mind, but now she felt, what was the point of asking? All the answers were already clear in her heart, as long as she was willing to believe.
Seeing her lost in thought, he assumed she was troubled by that matter and whispered, "Don't be afraid, Qiao Yi..." He didn't want to bring it up at this time, but he still said, "I'm here for Qiao Yi."
She rolled over and nestled into his arms. Her unprecedented initiative filled him with ecstasy. The beast of desire, finally contained, once again stirred restlessly. He suppressed his boiling blood and gently placed a kiss on the top of her head.
“He’s a very well-behaved little boy,” he said.
She felt his body burning hot, and reached out her finger to draw lines aimlessly on his chest, left and right. He caught her hand and put it to his lips: "If you keep doing this, I won't be able to control myself..." he whispered, a warm breath pressing down his throat.
"What photos of me were you secretly looking at?" she asked out of the blue. Only then did Shen Hanyang remember that Cheng Jiaming, that little brat, had sold himself off to Huang Qian's house without any remorse.
"Ahem," out of some ridiculous sense of human pride, he still wanted to save face and try to cover it up. But she tilted her head up from his embrace, waiting for his answer like a well-behaved student.
That look was deadly! She had never looked at him like that before! As Shen Hanyang regained his rationality, a storm raged once more, and his will, which had stood firm for thirty years, was shattered once more.
To hell with your damn face!
He grabbed her chin again and gently bit her lower lip, a clear act of punishment, yet his tone was wistful, like that of a divorced wife (or husband): "Why am I always the one who gets hurt..."
The party downstairs lasted all night, but fortunately, the walls of Shen Hanyang's house were excellent at soundproofing, and he slept soundly through the night without being disturbed. When Shen Hanyang opened his eyes the next day, the villa was quiet. He hadn't slept so soundly in a long time. He rubbed his temples, and the bed next to him was empty. He sat up abruptly and found that the bathroom door was ajar. Only then did his heart return to his chest.
He smiled slightly, got out of bed barefoot, and tried not to make a sound.
Through the crack in the door, I could just see that beautiful face in the mirror, her eyelashes half-closed, staring blankly at the sink with a melancholy expression.
Startled awake by being embraced from behind, Yan Qing gasped softly, her face instantly turning red to the roots of her ears.
The man in the mirror had slightly disheveled hair, his dark eyes were misty, and a mischievous smile had already crept onto his lips.
Yan Qing took a shower in the morning and found she had no clothes to wear, so she casually pulled on his shirt. The men's shirt was loose and long enough to cover her upper thighs, making it alluringly revealing.
Faced with his amused and approving gaze, Yan Qing hurriedly pulled at her hem to cover herself, saying, "I don't have any clothes to wear, so I'll borrow yours for now."
He leaned close to her temple and took a deep sniff. She had just showered; her hair was half-dry, her skin damp, and the scent of cedarwood from her shower gel lingered everywhere. He felt a strange sense of pride—she smelled like him.
“I’m taking you shopping for clothes today,” he said, “but you look even prettier in this one.”
Yan Qing glared at him, broke free from his arm, and walked towards the bedroom.
Shen Hanyang followed him out, rubbing his stomach. "I'm hungry. I'll go downstairs and ask the kitchen to make some food."
"No!" Yan Qing blocked the doorway.
"What are you afraid of? They'll get to know you sooner or later. Oh, you came for the interview, maybe they remember you."
"Anyway, no. I'm leaving."
Ignoring Shen Hanyang's attempts to persuade her to stay, Yan Qing insisted on changing back into her own clothes.
Just as she was about to open the door, Cheng Jiaming's loud voice rang out from outside: "Dad! Dad! Old Shen!"
Shen Hanyang frowned: "Why did this guy come here?"
The shouts grew louder as they approached the door, accompanied by loud banging on it: "Old Shen, open the door!"
Yan Qing hurriedly tried to hide inside, but Shen Hanyang grabbed her, asking, "What are you doing?"
Yan Qing hurriedly picked up her coat and bag, then cautiously looked around to make sure she hadn't left anything behind. "Don't let Jia Ming find out about me."
Shen Hanyang frowned: "Why? It's not like you're ashamed of yourself. Besides, this little guy is so concerned about our affairs, why not tell him now?"
"Don't do anything rash," Yan Qing warned. "I'll hide first. You deal with Jia Ming, and I'll slip away when I get a chance. Make sure we work well together!" With that, she slipped into the bathroom and locked the door with a click.
Shen Hanyang smiled bitterly, feeling helpless. He was being completely aboveboard, yet she made it seem like he was having a secret affair.
"Old Shen, were you taking a dump? Why did it take you so long to open the door!" Cheng Jiaming complained, pulling his hand and leading him downstairs. "Come on, come with me!"
Shen Hanyang was still lingering in the warmth of the bed when Cheng Jiaming abruptly interrupted him. He was too weak to move and was lazily dragged to the living room.
Cheng Jiaming's eyes lit up, his excitement overflowing: "Old Shen, I have some absolutely amazing news for you—look who's here!"
At the same time, the maid, Aunt Chen, led Ren Ruiyun in from the back garden, saying with a beaming smile, "Miss Ren, Old Ding and I have been taking good care of the camellia you planted. I knew you would come back one day."
Cheng Jiaming excitedly shouted, "Mom!"
A thunderclap exploded in Shen Hanyang's mind, and the last traces of sleepiness vanished completely.
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