Song Qingyou put away the ointment, turned around, scooped up a spoonful of porridge, and tried to avoid the topic.
Fu Wenzhou persisted: "If you like something, you like it. What do you mean by 'should'?"
Song Qingyou was a bit overwhelmed. She wasn't very emotional. Growing up in the cold and materialistic environment of the Song family, she had focused all her energy on revenge. But now, the scales of revenge had already tipped in Fu Wenzhou's favor.
Fu Wenzhou was certainly important to her.
But if they were to separate one day, Song Qingyou wouldn't be unable to live like Fu Wenzhou. In her mind, the world would keep turning no matter who was gone.
They haven't broken up yet, so Song Qingyou will naturally put him first.
After thinking for a moment, she looked at him again and said, "Didn't I already tell you that I like you? Why are you asking again?"
Fu Wenzhou snorted. Of course he had to ask. It was something that needed to be confirmed repeatedly. What if she stopped liking him one day?
He needed to be sure that she liked him just as much today as she did yesterday before he could feel at ease.
Fu Wenzhou made a demand: "You must like me a little more each day than you did yesterday."
Song Qingyou: "..."
She couldn't be bothered with him anymore and turned to drink her porridge.
Fu Wenzhou squatted in front of her, like a large dog, while Zhouzhou lay beside his legs. Both the man and the dog were staring at her.
After taking a few sips, Song Qingyou finally couldn't stand the intense gaze and replied in a muffled voice, "I know."
Fu Wenzhou's narrow eyes slowly curved upwards as he picked up Zhouzhou and sat down next to her.
After a while, Song Qingyou said, "Fu Wenzhou."
"Hmm," Fu Wenzhou replied lazily.
Song Qingyou looked at him: "Do you want our love to be equal?"
Fu Wenzhou's eyes lit up. "Of course."
Song Qingyou nodded: "Then I'll love you a little more each day, and you'll love me a little less each day, okay?"
Fu Wenzhou's handsome face froze instantly.
Song Qingyou tried to reason with him: "In this way, our love will gradually become equal."
Fu Wenzhou sneered: "You want to control everything, from heaven and earth to people's shitting and farting?"
Song Qingyou's face darkened: "I'm eating."
Fu Wenzhou was so angry that he didn't want to talk to her. He shouldn't have brought it up; it only made him angry.
Seeing him leave in anger, Song Qingyou lowered her eyes and murmured, "Idiot, love me a little less each day, so you won't cry in front of my tombstone later."
After dinner, Fu Wenzhou seemed to have forgotten all the unpleasantness from earlier and came over to cling to her for kisses again.
Song Qingyou was forced to sit on his lap to work on the documents, her eyes filled with helplessness: "Stop messing around, I still have to work."
Fu Wenzhou buried his face in her neck, greedily inhaling her fragrance. He loved the scent. "Youyou, do you know what I was thinking when I first came here?"
Before Song Qingyou could answer, Fu Wenzhou continued, "The moment I stepped in, I knew that one day, I would be here—in your kitchen where you cook, in your bathroom where you shower, on your bed, at your desk, in every corner of your room, taking you..."
The man chuckled softly, his voice deep and husky: "Make yourself cry."
Faced with his sudden lewd joke, Song Qingyou's eyes flickered. She suddenly closed the file in her hand, turned to look at him, and asked, "Want to give it a try?"
"Um?"
"The desk, I haven't tried it yet."
"……Grass!"
Outside the window, the shadows of trees swayed, and the sound of the wind blew in through the cracks, mingling with the panting breaths inside. Song Qingyou had been changed into several different positions, her eyes were wet, and she cried and begged for mercy.
Fu Wenzhou coaxed in a hoarse voice, "Youyou, be good, I'll make you feel comfortable."
Exhausted, Song Qingyou slept until midnight, feeling as if she had been completely reassembled. This affair, which she had started, was one she could not stop.
This man is like a wolfhound that has just been introduced to meat; once he starts clinging to her, he won't stop, and he won't give her a clean break. He even tries to coax her by saying he's afraid of hurting her.
Just thinking about those blush-inducing words made Song Qingyou's face turn bright red, as if it had been boiled.
Enraged and frustrated, he wanted to cause trouble for Fu Wenzhou.
Why is it that she's always exhausted while he's still full of energy?
That's not fair.
Despite her aching body, Song Qingyou went out to search but couldn't find Fu Wenzhou.
The fact that Fu Wenzhou wasn't home and hadn't informed her where he was made her slightly displeased. She didn't even realize that her brows were furrowed, but her mood was plummeting.
She went back to her room and found her phone. After confirming again that there were no more messages from him on her phone, the blush of embarrassment on Song Qingyou's face completely disappeared, and she grew increasingly cold.
She casually threw on a coat and sat on the sofa in the living room, her eyes fixed on the clock on the wall.
When the pointer reached 2, the door lock clicked.
"Welcome to Song Qingyou and Fu Wenzhou's home."
Fu Wenzhou pushed open the door and entered, bringing with him a biting cold wind. He carefully took out the item from his arms and tested its temperature by placing his palm against the edge of the box.
It's still hot.
Fu Wenzhou's lips curled up, and he reached out to turn on the light.
As soon as the lights came on, Fu Wenzhou saw Song Qingyou sitting on the sofa with her knees drawn up to her chest.
His brow furrowed immediately, and he strode over to her, squatting down in front of her: "Why are you up? It's cold outside, go back to bed."
Song Qingyou didn't move, her eyes fixed on him.
Fu Wenzhou felt uneasy under her gaze. He carefully considered whether he had done anything crazy or absurd recently, and after confirming that he hadn't, he finally spoke: "Sister~"
Whether you've done anything wrong or offended anyone, just call her "sister" first.
In his experience, his sister was more useful than anything else in a critical moment.
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