Chapter 51 Recalling the fluttering eyelashes, the warm breath, the sensation between the lips and teeth...
The elevator doors slowly opened, and two figures, entwined, stepped out.
Zhang Minglang was completely disobedient. It was as if he had some kind of timed program set up, and he would go up and kiss me every so often.
Tang Yi took out her key, turned the door, opened the shoe cabinet, and then closed it again.
"I don't have any men's slippers here, will you make do with mine?"
Zhang Minglang was still looking up at the interior decoration of Tang Yi's house. The color scheme of the room was very light, mostly composed of black, white and gray, which seemed to match her gentle personality.
The curtains were thin, white, sheer gauze, hanging there in a hazy, indistinct way. The autumn wind blowing in from outside billowed them, like sails setting sail.
The room was clean and tidy, and everything was arranged in an orderly manner.
Zhang Minglang looked down and saw the pair of apricot-colored high heels that Tang Yi often wore on the carpet. He was filled with a sense of novelty and strangeness.
The little items he used to see her wearing at the company are now scattered throughout her home, as if he had seen only a small part of her.
He picked up pieces here and there, piecing together the complete picture of her.
Seeing that he was looking down and not replying, Tang Yi joked, "Don't tell me you want to wear my high heels?"
Zhang Minglang snapped out of his daze and quickly took the women's slippers from Tang Yi's hands. The shoes were obviously completely ill-fitting, with his heel sticking out far too much, making him look particularly comical.
But he didn't care at all, and wandered around Tang Yi's room with great interest, wearing slippers.
In the corner of the sofa, a beige velvet blanket was draped over the backrest. On the coffee table next to it lay an open book, which looked more like it had been turned by the wind than by her.
He reached out and stroked the blanket; it was as soft as the one she kept in the CEO's office. Would Tang Yi, after working overtime late at night, curl up in this blanket, turn a page casually by the light of a small lamp?
This place is filled with Tang Yi's delicate fragrance; this is Tang Yi's world.
Nothing special was displayed, yet it was enough to dazzle Zhang Minglang.
After washing her hands at the sink, Tang Yi used a hairband to gather her hair back, revealing her smooth forehead.
She went outside and saw Zhang Minglang, a tall man, standing quietly in the living room, staring blankly at the book in the corner.
"What are you daydreaming about? Sit down."
Tang Yi spoke calmly, then walked over to the restaurant, grabbed a clear glass, and poured him a glass of water.
Zhang Minglang followed her to her room.
Her room had almost no fancy decorations; even the cups and pillows were neatly arranged, with hardly a wrinkle. She told him to sit wherever he wanted, as long as he didn't sit on the bed, and then she sat down at the dressing table to fiddle with the bottles and jars.
Zhang Minglang didn't sit down. He followed her to her dressing table and curiously picked up her cosmetics to examine them.
Tang Yi put down the powder puff, and he sat down next to her and touched it, patting it twice on the back of her hand, instantly turning her skin white.
Zhang Minglang: "!"
Zhang Minglang watched as Tang Yi opened a box, lightly pressed a fluffy powder puff onto her face, and tiny powder particles floated in the air.
Zhang Minglang couldn't help but ask, "Why use...starch?"
Tang Yi stared at the mirror without turning around: "This is loose powder, for removing oil."
Upon hearing this, Zhang Minglang leaned closer to her face to look at her in the mirror, then turned to look at her in person: "What's the use? I can't see any change."
Tang Yi glanced at him silently: "Are you questioning my makeup skills?"
Zhang Minglang quickly denied it: "No, no, I wouldn't dare."
He was interested in everything she put on her face, examining and studying each item until Tang Yi was fully made up.
She leaned over to pick up a hair tie to gather her hair, but Zhang Minglang perked up again: "Shall I tie your hair for you?"
Tang Yi handed him the hair tie and let him do as he pleased.
In the round mirror, Tang Yi sat quietly at the table, looking with a smile at the man standing to her side and behind her, awkwardly gathering her long hair.
Zhang Minglang was extremely focused, as if he were dealing with some thorny, century-old problem. His movements were so light that Tang Yi could barely feel them, and he would occasionally lean over to ask if she had pulled her hair or if it hurt.
After hurriedly and clumsily tying Tang Yi's hair into a low bun, Zhang Minglang breathed a sigh of relief, crossed his arms proudly, and asked her for praise: "How was it? Did I do a good job?"
He looked at Tang Yi in the mirror with delight, only to find her eyes fixed on him with tenderness, and he didn't know how long she had been looking at him.
In the mirror, Tang Yi's cheeks were fair and clean, her eyelashes were long and black, her nose was straight and upturned, and her lips were bright red.
Because she stayed at his house last night, she was still wearing the clothes she wore during yesterday's team building activity. A khaki shirt jacket over a wide-strapped tank top, revealing a slender neck and a row of delicate collarbones, with a crystal pendant lying quietly in the slightly sunken hollow of her collarbone.
Zhang Minglang looked at her beautiful face and secretly clenched his hands, which were crossed over his chest.
He slowly bent down and gently kissed her neck.
She reached back and wrapped her arms around Zhang Minglang's neck, his movement tickling Tang Yi. She kept instinctively trying to dodge to the side.
Zhang Minglang misunderstood her meaning. Instead, he squatted down and knelt on the floor, guiding Tang Yi down by the back of her neck. He raised his head and kissed her.
The mirror reflected Tang Yi and Zhang Minglang's sharply defined profiles.
Zhang Minglang knelt on one knee, constantly moving upwards to match Tang Yi's height. Tang Yi's consciousness gradually became hazy; her eyelashes fluttered like tiny flying insects, and she could only vaguely see Zhang Minglang's trembling eyelids.
Their lips parted briefly, and they both took advantage of the small gap to breathe softly.
Zhang Minglang squinted, as if calculating with dissatisfaction: "You weren't even taking the kiss seriously, you were actually peeking at me with your eyes open."
Tang Yi's shoulders rose and fell slightly with her breathing. She smiled and said, "How do you know I'm looking at you if you're not looking at me?"
Zhang Minglang chuckled, offering no rebuttal.
He gripped Tang Yi's waist, and with a slight effort, lifted her up, his hands clenched into fists, hovering loosely beneath her hips.
The sudden suspension caught Tang Yi off guard, causing her to gasp in surprise. To maintain her balance, she was forced to wrap her legs around his lean waist.
In an instant, he was a head taller than him. Tang Yi looked down at him and felt the air grow even colder.
Zhang Minglang looked up at her intently, wanting to sit on the bed.
Tang Yi stopped her, saying, "You're wearing an overcoat, you're not allowed to touch my sheets."
Zhang Minglang curled his lips and said meaningfully, "Then I..."
Tang Yi understood the implication in his words, and she laughed, "You're being indecent."
Zhang Minglang rarely listened to her, so he freed one hand to put down the bottles and jars on the dressing table, making room for her to sit down.
He braced his hands on the edge of the table, tilted his head slightly, and leaned in to kiss her again.
Tang Yi was trapped in this small space. She wanted to back away but was afraid of knocking over the cosmetics behind her, so she could only lean forward.
Zhang Minglang once again naturally misunderstood her meaning. He reached out and cupped the back of her head, his fingertips sinking into her soft hair, and deepened the kiss without being satisfied.
Tang Yi was having trouble breathing and her back was hunched over, so she reached out and patted Zhang Minglang's back to finally get him to stop.
Zhang Minglang was panting, his chest heaving, and Tang Yi's lip gloss still clung to his lips.
He ran his finger across his lips, then held it up to his eyes, admiring the distinct red color.
Tang Yi took in his lewd actions. She increased the pressure and punched his shoulder, causing him to stumble back a step, completely unprepared.
Tang Yi landed with her hands on the edge of the table, supporting her aching lower back as she walked to the door, grabbed the doorknob, and glared at him.
The warmth in Zhang Minglang's arms suddenly vanished, and he looked blankly towards the door.
Tang Yi managed to maintain the last shred of composure on her face. If it weren't for her disheveled hair and the little color left on her lips, probably no one would know how passionately and frantically she had just kissed him.
Zhang Minglang walked up to her with a fawning smile and reached out to put his arm around her waist as an apology.
Tang Yi was completely unmoved. She pushed him away: "What are you laughing at? Get out of here, I need to change my clothes."
Zhang Minglang looked regretful: "Ah, can't I stay here?"
Tang Yi clicked her tongue and pushed him. Zhang Minglang said "Hey, hey, hey" and didn't want to leave, but actually took the opportunity to walk out the door.
The door slammed shut, a dull thud separating the two.
Tang Yi's hand was still gripping the cold doorknob, and her face belatedly began to heat up.
She gently rested her head against the door frame, her mind replaying everything that had just happened.
Fluttering eyelashes, warm breath, and the inevitable sound of water between lips and teeth.
She shook her head, trying to suppress the jumbled thoughts in her mind. But when she stepped back to the dressing table and her fingers touched the lip gloss that had been pushed aside, the woman in the mirror blushed again.
Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Tang Yi, who resembled a peach blossom, gently covered her face with her hand, already considering the possibility of replacing the dressing table.
Outside the door, Zhang Minglang reacted even more strongly.
He dragged his heavy steps to the sofa and sat down, but he couldn't suppress the smile on his face.
He leaned his head against the back of the sofa, one hand touching his burning forehead with the back of his hand, the other hand hanging limply down, bouncing off the sofa.
He felt a soft, plush texture on his hand, turned his head, and realized it was Tang Yi's blanket.
He was bewitched and pulled the blanket over his head, staring at it intently.
The blanket became a movie screen, projecting the enchanting scenes of the room frame by frame.
He slowly bent his elbow and brought the blanket close to his nose. A familiar, faint fragrance wafted over him; it was the scent he had smelled behind Tang Yi's ear when he had just passionately kissed her neck.
Zhang Minglang closed his eyes, trying to shut down all his senses except for his sense of smell, and tried to feel and remember the fragrance.
A crisp "click" suddenly rang out in the corridor. Zhang Minglang seemed to be startled awake from a dream. He opened his eyes abruptly and quickly pulled the blanket off the sofa. The blanket was pitifully crumpled into a ball and squeezed into a corner of the sofa.
Zhang Minglang, having transformed from a lump of mud into human form, sat obediently on the sofa. Tang Yi emerged from the shadows of the corridor, one hand stroking the back of her neck, her gaze somewhat unfocused: "...What's for dinner?"
Zhang Minglang's tense body relaxed instantly.
It's good that she's not angry, hehe.
He stood up, took a few steps to her, and gently placed his hand on her waist, his eyes sparkling: "Shall we cook together?"
Tang Yi looked up at him and snorted, "I won't do it."
Zhang Minglang laughed: "Then I'll cook, I'll cook for you."
They were too close, so he bent down to touch her forehead, but she turned her head away.
Tang Yi stretched out a finger, poked his chest, and pushed him back, warning him sternly, "From now on, you're not allowed to kiss me."
Just as Zhang Minglang was about to say something, Tang Yi interrupted him: "Unless you help me redo my makeup."
"Go cook." She pushed him toward the kitchen.
Zhang Minglang turned around defiantly and grabbed her hand, trying to bargain with her: "How about we hold hands?"
Tang Yi shrugged him off without hesitation: "If your cooking isn't good, don't even think about holding hands."
Zhang Minglang believed she could really keep her word, so he timidly let go of her hand and turned to go to the kitchen.
Tang Yi watched his figure disappear into the kitchen door, then lowered her head with relief and secretly raised the corners of her mouth.
However, a soft laugh came from above.
She looked up abruptly, and there she was, seeing Zhang Minglang, who had just walked in, now leaning against the doorframe, smiling at her.
Tang Yi felt a pang of panic and quickly suppressed her smile.
However, Zhang Minglang raised an eyebrow: "Still being stubborn, you're clearly still secretly savoring it."
After saying that, he darted into the door and disappeared.
Tang Yi realized what was happening and became furious for the first time.
The empty room echoed with her lingering, furious voice.
"Zhang Minglang!"
"Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong!"
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