I don't know how long I slept, but consciousness slowly emerged like a sinking ship. A warm, firm pressure on my forehead, a soothing rhythm. I struggled to open my heavy eyelids, only to be met with a thick, impenetrable darkness. My vision hadn't yet fully recovered, but my sense of smell, acute and sharp, picked up a faint scent—Xiao Min's distinct scent. Beneath the delicate, sweet fragrance of shower gel, lingered the warmth of her own body, like a gardenia blooming after rain, pure yet tinged with an indescribable, alluring hormonal scent that seeped into my nostrils and seeped into my lungs.
It was her. Xixi must be fast asleep. She was fulfilling her promise of "treatment" by massaging my acupuncture points.
"Are you awake?" Her soft voice echoed in the silence, cautiously asking, "Does your head... still hurt?"
The lingering sleepiness instantly dissipated, and I immediately got back into the act. My brows furrowed, and a suppressed, painful moan escaped my throat: "Hmm... still swollen... like a nerve is jumping..."
Her movements paused. Then, with a soft click, the dim bedside lamp shone with a small patch of warm light. The light was a bit glaring, and I instinctively squinted. In this hazy light, her face suddenly leaned in, so close that I could clearly see the tiny hairs on her face. Two cool hands cupped my cheeks, scrutinizing my expression with an almost reverent pain, as if searching for the source of pain in every subtle line of my expression.
"Don't move, let me see..." She whispered, her breath brushing against my lips faintly.
Close by, the dim light cast a small, trembling shadow beneath her long lashes. With every blink, those butterfly-like lashes felt like the softest feathers, gently scratching the tips of my hair. An indescribable heat suddenly surged from the depths of the field, like long-suppressed magma finding a crack, surging and surging, instantly breaking through all rational defenses. It was no longer the slight elation of feigning illness, but an instinctive, overwhelming desire.
My body reacted before my mind did. Almost violently, I gripped her slender waist, rolled over, and with irresistible force, pressed her firmly into the soft mattress. She was caught off guard, her astonishment instantly replaced by concern, and she opened her red lips slightly:
"Guan Hongjun! You're playing..."
The word "I" hadn't even been uttered before it was completely sealed. I leaned down, with an almost predatory frenzy, my lips precisely pressing against her softness, greedily seizing her breath and the unfinished gasp. All pretense, calculations, petty revenges, were washed away in this surging torrent.
If the first time, it was alcohol that clouded my vision, causing me to mistake her for someone else, then this night, as the spring breeze blew past me once again, in her clumsy yet passionate response, in the subtle trembling and gradually rising warmth between our lips, I felt with uncanny clarity the unreserved, scorching, and genuine warmth of a woman. This was no longer a substitute, but a unique gift.
“When golden wind and jade dew meet, it is better than countless things in the world.” Qin Guan’s words express deep feelings, but at this moment, I have a different understanding of them.
I never envied the extravagance of luxury, revelry, and decadence, but I was completely captivated by this sense of freedom and unfettered ease. It was as if, only at this moment, my soul could fully unwind, as if freed from invisible shackles. I could clearly sense the breathing and beating of my true self, certain that I was the sole ruler of this tiny space.
Deeper still, a secret lies: as time creeps silently through my body, and my emotions inevitably take on a touch of decadence, only she, radiating that almost transparent aura of youth, surges unexpectedly into my increasingly silent lake like a clear spring. That vibrant vitality, like the touch of sunlight coursing through my veins, instantly washes away the dust and awakens the long-buried passion and strength that yearns to soar into the skies.
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