When Ji Nianqin left, she took away the warm, moist aroma of tea, but left behind a lingering sense of unease.
Yu Jiuyuan watched as Rong Shenghan escorted Ji Nianqin to the entrance, and the two of them stood at the door and said something.
They were neither too close nor too far apart, and both wore polite smiles, but even through the glass doors of the restaurant, she could feel the tension in the air.
As soon as the front door clicked shut, Rong Shenghan turned around, his smile instantly vanishing.
He didn't come back immediately; he just stood there, his back to her, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the carvings on the door frame.
The morning light fell on him, but it did not warm the chill around him. Instead, it made the lines of his profile even sharper, like a lurking beast slowly putting away its feigned docility.
Yu Jiuyuan slowly wiped her mouth with a tissue. The initial interest in watching the show gradually faded, replaced by a subtle feeling.
She knew Rong Shenghan too well. This calm was often the calm before the storm.
Just like the last time at the exhibition, when he smiled and blocked the champagne that Xie Zhecheng offered her, he had the same expression.
Just like the time before he locked her in the room for three days and three nights when he was jealous, it was just as calm.
She put down the tissue, stood up, and walked barefoot onto the warm wool carpet towards him.
When she walked up behind him, she could smell a hint of coldness mixed with the ebony scent on him, a scent that only appeared when he was emotionally unstable.
Yu Jiuyuan reached out and gently wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his back, her voice soft as if to ask, "Are you angry?"
Rong Shenghan stiffened for a moment, but didn't speak or push her away.
"Ji Nianqin was just a nickname my family gave me as a child, it doesn't count anymore."
She tilted her head back and brushed her nose against his shirt. "I only found out he was back today, really."
She rarely explains herself, much less lowers herself like this.
But looking at Rong Shenghan's tense back, she said those words as if possessed, like soothing a cat with its fur standing on end.
Rong Shenghan finally turned around and looked down at her. His eyes were deep, like a frozen lake, making it impossible to discern his emotions.
"My childhood fiancé?" he repeated, his tone unreadable.
"It's just something the elders said casually, don't take it seriously."
Yu Jiuyuan tiptoed and reached out to touch his face. Her fingertips had just touched his chin when he grabbed her hand.
He gripped her very hard, making her knuckles ache.
Yu Jiuyuan didn't struggle, but looked into his eyes with a deliberately innocent look in them: "You hurt me, Rong Shenghan."
Her voice was soft, tinged with grievance, like a feather gently brushing against the tip of one's heart.
Rong Shenghan's fingertips twitched, the pressure gradually loosening, but he didn't let go. "He said he wanted to study at Sheng Ying."
"Yes, I heard it from him."
He also said that he wanted to keep a promise he made when he was a child.
"That's all ancient history."
Yu Jiuyuan smiled, then put her other hand around his neck, forcing him to lower his head, forehead to forehead. "My affairs are always my own to decide, and no one can arrange them."
Her eyes were bright, like stars that had been tempered in fire, carrying her unique arrogance and domineering nature.
This appearance is more like the Yu Jiuyuan he knew: cold, selfish, yet damnably charming.
Rong Shenghan's breathing gradually became heavier.
Looking into her eyes, so close to his own, and seeing the undisguised desire for control in them, the surging anger in his heart suddenly dissipated.
Yes, what is he angry about? Is he angry about Ji Nianqin's appearance? Or is he angry about losing control when he heard the words "fiancé"?
He knew perfectly well what kind of person she was—cold-blooded and self-centered—how could she possibly be tripped up by a joke from when she was a child?
But just now, seeing the determined look in Ji Nianqin's eyes when she looked at him, and seeing the "old acquaintance" filter between them that he couldn't penetrate, he still couldn't help but want to hide her away and let everyone know that she was his.
This possessiveness is fierce and intense, almost consuming reason.
"You mean," Rong Shenghan's fingertips traced the back of her hand, his voice terribly hoarse, "that I get to decide what's going on with you now?"
Yu Jiuyuan was stunned for a moment, then laughed, a sly glint in her eyes.
She leaned in and kissed the corner of his lips, lightly licking it with the tip of her tongue, as if she were being coquettish or seductive: "That depends on your performance, Vice President."
The kiss was light, yet like a spark, it instantly ignited the fire in Rong Shenghan's eyes.
He suddenly lowered his head and deepened the kiss.
It was no longer the restraint and gentleness of before, but a plundering with a hint of punishment, fierce and urgent, as if he wanted to tear her apart and devour her to prove that she belonged to him.
Yu Jiuyuan was breathless from the kiss and could only cling tightly to his neck, letting him do whatever he wanted.
She could feel the chill emanating from him gradually dissipating, replaced by a burning heat, as if it wanted to melt her in his arms.
The kiss lasted a long time, so long that both of them were a little short of breath before they finally separated, panting.
Yu Jiuyuan's lips were swollen from the kisses, and her eyes were red, making her look both pitiful and alluring.
She looked at the lingering desire in Rong Shenghan's eyes, then suddenly smiled and reached out to smooth his furrowed brow: "Are you still angry?"
Rong Shenghan didn't say anything, but simply bent down and picked her up in his arms.
"What are you doing?" Yu Jiuyuan exclaimed, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Fulfilling my duty as a ‘classmate’.” His voice was deep and slightly teasing as he carried her toward the bedroom, “to warm the student council president’s bed.”
Sunlight streamed through the corridor windows, casting long, intertwined shadows of the two people, making them indistinguishable from one another.
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