The morning sun pierced through the thin mist.
The man's broad body pressed against the woman's slender waist. Fu Wenzhou held her in his arms, cherishing her like a precious treasure, and tenderly placed a kiss on her long, curled eyelashes.
Song Qingyou nestled in his arms, her long, seaweed-like hair cascading over his chest, her back as smooth and delicate as white jade—just one glance was enough to make one's heart itch.
She was still flushed with passion; even her delicate butterfly-shaped breasts exuded charm and allure.
Fu Wenzhou bent down and kissed her back. The person in his arms shifted restlessly, and he released her as if he hadn't had enough of kissing her.
His Yuyou finally belongs to him completely.
Fu Wenzhou felt a satisfaction he had never experienced before. He took a picture of the woman's beautiful back with his personal phone, and after admiring it to his heart's content, he set it as his phone's screensaver.
-
When Song Qingyou woke up, it was already bright outside. Last night's indulgence had almost cost her her life.
She struggled to keep her eyes open, too tired to get up.
Fu Wenzhou brought in breakfast and, seeing that she hadn't gotten up yet, hugged her from behind and started kissing her until she was almost breathless.
"No...don't kiss me anymore." Song Qingyou's voice was hoarse, and she was struggling to breathe.
The windows were open for ventilation, and the weather was nice after the heavy snow; it wasn't cold with sunshine. However, Song Qingyou was very sensitive to the cold, so she put on a thick coat over her sweater before getting out of bed.
She was so exhausted from the night that she was unsteady on her feet and almost fell to the ground. Fu Wenzhou caught her from behind and said in a low voice, "I didn't know any better last night. I won't make you hurt again."
Song Qingyou held back for a long time before she managed not to glare at him.
Is this a problem of pain? No, it's a lack of self-control!
If she hadn't recovered somewhat these past few days, she would have suspected that he could have killed her in bed.
To be honest, Fu Wenzhou felt quite aggrieved. He only had Song Qingyou in his heart and eyes, and he couldn't even be bothered to look at other women. He had remained chaste for twenty-one years, but once he broke the habit, it was like a wild beast that had been eating vegetarian food suddenly seeing meat, so he forgot to restrain himself.
When he woke up in the morning and saw the marks he had made on Youyou's body, he felt extremely distressed and scolded himself. However, his distress was mixed with a hint of excitement and satisfaction.
After Song Qingyou finished washing up, she sat there eating breakfast. Fu Wenzhou stared at her the whole time with the same eyes he had for his wife, watching her sip her porridge and brush a stray strand of hair from her mouth. His throat felt incredibly itchy.
Why did I provoke him like that?
Song Qingyou wiped her lips and looked up at him: "You haven't forgotten what I said yesterday, have you?"
Fu Wenzhou raised an eyebrow, leaned closer, and asked in a hoarse voice, "Youyou said so much last night, which sentence specifically were you referring to?"
Song Qingyou's ears turned red instantly; she hadn't expected this person to be so absurd in broad daylight.
She took a deep breath, trying to appear calm: "All I can give you is today."
Fu Wenzhou's mischievous smile vanished, replaced by a sudden sense of foreboding.
Song Qingyou looked at him quietly: "'Today' is over, Fu Wenzhou."
These words were like a sharp blade piercing a ferocious beast, razor-sharp and aimed straight for its vitals. The tenderness in Fu Wenzhou's eyes vanished little by little, his teeth grinding together in frustration: "What did you say?"
Song Qingyou looked at him strangely, her eyes filled with confusion: "We're all adults. When the atmosphere is right, we naturally fall asleep. It doesn't mean anything. As long as the process is enjoyable, that's all that matters. After we're done sleeping, we should go our separate ways and not get too involved with each other. Isn't that the consensus we reached yesterday?"
What the hell is this consensus?!
Fu Wenzhou was furious.
He was in a daze yesterday and didn't pay attention to what she said. If he had known what she was planning, he would have rather died than touch her last night!
Seeing his unfriendly expression, Song Qingyou thought it was because she had been too blunt, so she comforted him, "This is your first time, and it's my first time too. Neither of us will suffer a loss."
In Song Qingyou's mind, Fu Wenzhou agreed with and promised what she said yesterday before he slept with her.
So she naturally assumed that after sleeping together, they should go their separate ways—at least not like now, where he's still lingering in his own home.
"I've been fucking ripped off!" Fu Wenzhou's eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed Song Qingyou's chin, controlling his strength: "We've kissed, we've hugged, we've slept together, and you think you can just let it all go? To hell with today and tomorrow, I'm going to be with you for the rest of my life!"
Song Qingyou was stunned for a moment. A lifetime?
But she didn't live a lifetime.
She shook her head, wanting to pry Fu Wenzhou's hands off, but then hesitated, afraid he would continue to go crazy, and said, "I think you need to calm down."
Fu Wenzhou was truly enraged, his heavy breathing pressing against Song Qingyou's face: "Calm down my ass!"
"So what do you want?" Song Qingyou tried to be as rational as possible.
Fu Wenzhou stared at her for a long time before letting go of her hand: "You have to take responsibility for me."
Song Qingyou exclaimed in shock, "Why should I be responsible for something that was consensual?"
Isn't he a scoundrel?
He kisses her everywhere without her consent. Last night, she told him she didn't want to anymore, but he kept tirelessly working on her as if he couldn't hear her, leaving her with weak legs and a sore lower back today.
Now he actually expects me to take responsibility for him? Even a scoundrel wouldn't act like this.
Song Qingyou's anger flared: "What do you want? What do you want? I only have a few years left to live. Do you expect me to spend every day flirting with you and wasting my time? Let me tell you, I don't need love. My life goal is to take back the Song Group and avenge my mother and grandfather. As for you, you've never been part of my life plan!"
Fu Wenzhou stood frozen in place like a statue. His expression changed, becoming extremely ugly. His eyes seemed to contain a deep sense of obsession and sorrow, making it impossible to tell whether it was pain or anger. He remained silent for a long time before finally standing up slowly and moving away from her.
Then he turned around and cleaned up the dishes on the table. If it weren't for the dark, suppressed emotions in his eyes, you would never have guessed that he had just had a fight with Song Qingyou.
Song Qingyou lay on the rattan chair, feeling agitated. Fu Wenzhou was naturally obsessive and more eccentric than anyone else.
If she agrees to be with him, what will he do if she dies one day?
Should I die with you?
Song Qingyou gently closed her eyelids, feeling an intense hatred for her frail and sickly body for the first time.
Song Qingyou wearily covered her eyes with the back of her hand.
She was too greedy.
She couldn't bear to part with him, yet she still wanted him, repeatedly indulging his advances only to coldly push him away when she was fully conscious.
This is not fair to Fu Wenzhou.
"Forget it," Song Qingyou thought. "Anyway, he knows he doesn't have many years left to live. Those heartless words probably hurt him too. He should leave in anger."
The door creaked shut.
Song Qingyou's body stiffened, and she remained motionless for a long time.
A bitter smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes were vacant, and he murmured softly, "Go, and don't come back."
She's too wicked; she doesn't deserve his love.
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