The evening breeze stirred the sheer curtains of the French windows, filtering the moonlight into fine gold dust that fell on the violin Rong Shenghan was wiping.
He sat on the carpet, his fingertips brushing across the rosin-stained strings of the violin, the halo of light reflected from the violin flowing across his profile like a tranquil oil painting.
Yu Jiuyuan came out after taking a shower, wearing a silk nightgown. Water droplets from her hair fell onto her collarbone and slid down her neckline.
She didn't pounce on him and cause trouble as usual; instead, she squatted down in front of him, resting her chin on his knee, her pinky ring gently rubbing against the back of his hand.
"Baby, I need to talk to you about something." Her voice was moist with moisture, like it had been soaked in honey.
Rong Shenghan paused for a moment as he plucked the strings, and the instrument emitted a clear, resonant tremolo.
He looked down at her, his eyes filled with a tenderness like melting moonlight: "What is it?"
"How about we let Xie Zhecheng and Yuan Xu move into the villa?"
Yu Jiuyuan's fingertips traced the F hole of the violin, her movements deliberately nonchalant. "Yuan Xu's lab is currently under renovation, so it's inconvenient to move his bacterial strains. Xie Zhecheng's club activity room is being converted into a new exhibition area, so there's nowhere to put his specimens for the time being."
Her reason was flawless, yet the pinky ring tinged with a very faint purple, the color of Rong Shenghan's fluctuating emotions, like the surface of a lake rippled by the wind.
Sure enough, the smile on his face faded a little, and his fingertips unconsciously caressed the strings.
"It's your villa, you call the shots." His voice was emotionless, but the strings of his piano were plucked tighter, producing a slightly hoarse sound.
Yu Jiuyuan knew this was a sign that he was unhappy.
She suddenly leaned in and kissed the corner of his lips, her tongue gently licking his lower lip, carrying the scent of gardenia from her shower gel: "I know you'll be unhappy, but..."
She paused deliberately, slipping her fingers between his and intertwining them. "That way they can see you every day. They'll stay in the guest room, and we'll stay in the master bedroom. We'll keep to ourselves. Besides, Yuanxu can check if the scar on your arm will leave a mark. Xie Zhecheng... his desserts are amazing."
The last sentence, with its slightly cheeky and ingratiating tone, caused the blue light from the pinky ring to flicker.
Rong Shenghan's negative emotions were suppressed as soon as they surfaced, like a spark extinguished by her.
Rong Shenghan looked into her bright eyes, then suddenly chuckled, put his violin aside, and reached out to pinch her cheek: "Yu Jiuyuan, do you think it's fun to keep everyone around you?"
“Yes.” Yu Jiuyuan smiled frankly, a sly madness flashing in her eyes. “That way, you’ll all be mine.”
She never cared about the idea that distance makes the heart grow fonder; she simply wanted to bring all her "prey" into her territory.
Watching them coexist on her turf, whether with restraint, indulgence, or awkwardness, is like a meticulously crafted drama, and she is the only audience member.
Rong Shenghan's fingertips slid to her pinky ring, gently turning the delicate silver band: "Aren't you afraid we'll fight?"
“You wouldn’t.” Yu Jiuyuan tilted her head back and kissed his Adam’s apple, her tongue gently tracing the protrusion. “Because you all like me.”
He said this with such confidence, with the kind of self-assurance that comes with being a madman.
Rong Shenghan's breathing became a little erratic from her kiss. He suddenly picked her up and made her sit on his lap. The bow was pushed onto the carpet, making a slight clattering sound.
"Then you have to grant me one request." His kiss landed on the top of her head, his voice hoarse as if shrouded in mist.
"I'll agree to any conditions." Yu Jiuyuan's hand hooked around his neck, the pinky ring leaving a slightly cool touch on his neck.
“They can move in,” Rong Shenghan said, his fingertips tracing her waistline with an unmistakable possessiveness, “but you must sleep in the master bedroom tonight.”
"Of course." She smiled, her eyes crinkling into crescents, and leaned in to kiss him. "My bed is only for my baby."
The blue light from the pinky ring instantly became dazzling, and Rong Shenghan's positive emotional fluctuations surged past 160, like fireworks being lit.
He suddenly rolled over and pinned her to the carpet. The violin made a dull thud as it was hit, but no one paid any attention.
“Now,” his kiss landed quickly and fiercely, his fingertips tearing open the straps of her nightgown, “you’ll prove it to me.”
Moonlight streamed through the gauze curtains, bathing the intertwined figures of the two in a silvery glow.
Yu Jiuyuan's laughter, mixed with panting, echoed in the quiet living room, like a triumphant little beast.
She knew that Rong Shenghan agreed so readily not because her reasons were particularly compelling, but because he loved her. This love had become her sharpest weapon and her most reliable armor.
The following afternoon, Yuan Xu's inoculum box and Xie Zhecheng's specimen cabinet were moved into the east and west wing rooms of the villa.
Wearing a white lab coat, Yuan Xu directed the movers to set up the incubators, her eyes behind her glasses fixed on the petri dishes, showing no interest in her surroundings.
Hsieh Che-cheng personally organized his specimens, arranging each acrylic box in alphabetical order, with even the labels facing the same direction.
As he passed by the master bedroom door, he happened to see Yu Jiuyuan standing on tiptoe to tie Rong Shenghan's tie. The two shadows overlapped on the floor, like a sticky silhouette.
He paused, his gaze behind his gold-rimmed glasses darkened, and the pinky ring on Yu Jiuyuan's fingertip gleamed coldly. His negative emotions lasted only three seconds before being dispelled by her smiling eyes.
"President Xie, would you like to try some of my cookies?" Yu Jiuyuan held up a cookie and waved it at him, her skirt brushing against Rong Shenghan's calf, intimate and natural.
Xie Zhecheng nodded, walked over and took the biscuit. His fingertips accidentally touched her palm, and he recoiled as if he had been electrocuted.
Rong Shenghan just happened to raise his hand and brush away the cookie crumbs from Yu Jiuyuan's hair, a gentle gesture that carried a sense of asserting dominance.
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