Chapter 53 Boundaries "Now, kiss me."
Lan Jia, her blood boiling, retorted, "I can find whoever I want, it's none of your business!"
"How can it not be my business? I'm your brother, can't I control you? Do you even know the people outside? Have you seen their medical reports? Do you know if they're healthy or not?"
Sure enough, the previous beautiful illusion was just his temporary indulgence. Whenever he was unhappy, he would revert to being her strict but good brother.
Why should he always have the initiative?
Lan Jia said coldly, "Do I even know you? You're not allowed to mention it, not allowed to touch it, and you won't give me the chance. I really don't understand, is this thing some kind of monster? Is it worth avoiding like this? This is the 21st century, not 2,000 years ago. Do I not even have the freedom to discuss this topic in my own home?"
Meng Cenjun's voice trembled: "Fine, if you want to discuss this, then tell me clearly now, what do you really consider me?" A casual tool for sexual gratification? Or a dispensable temporary partner?
She laughed, a mocking laugh: "As you wish, of course I treat you as my brother, the one I respect most, the good brother who kisses his sister!"
"Okay, you're right..." He couldn't refute it and was speechless for a long time.
Lan Jia composed herself and turned to walk away.
Meng Cenjun stubbornly refused to stop her, but his heart was in his throat as he kept glancing at her receding figure. After a while, he heard the television playing outside and finally breathed a sigh of relief. He was afraid she would recklessly run out again.
Lan Jia nestled on the sofa, pounding the cashmere pillow in her hand twice, unable to understand why she had argued with Meng Cenjun again.
Reviewing the whole process, she felt even angrier. She still attributed the problem to that cake analogy. As a lover, Meng Cenyun was like a sweet cake in a cage, something she could only drool over but couldn't have; as a brother, he was even more powerful, a symbol of power holding the key, and also the culprit who locked up the cake, grandly listing a bunch of the downsides of sweets, suppressing and controlling her, while blocking any other avenues for her to express her desires.
He not only wouldn't let her eat at home, but he also wouldn't let her buy food outside, which made Lan Jia angry.
Actually, she wasn't being fickle in her feelings; her words earlier were largely a test. If she didn't value him the most, why would she be so desperate to bring him back? Wouldn't it be better if no one was controlling her? But as it turns out, Meng Cenjun still maintained his superior, brotherly demeanor. If he told her to go east, she couldn't go west. Why should she? Why couldn't she interact with him as an equal?
She couldn't stand his constant switching between two relationships, and she couldn't accept his ever-present controlling nature.
Lan Jia took a deep breath, threw the cushion aside, and resolutely walked towards the kitchen.
Meng Cenjun, standing in front of the stove, held a frying pan and was already searing a steak. To lock in the juices, he turned up the heat and seared it quickly, the oil sizzling in the pan as he poured it over the meat with a long spoon. In an instant, the kitchen was filled with a rich aroma of meat, mixed with the distinctive herbal scent of rosemary.
As soon as Lan Jia stepped inside, the enticing aroma of food enveloped her. She swallowed hard, barely managing to resist, and rummaged through the counter, but found nothing. She then turned her empty shopping bag inside out, but still nothing.
He must have hidden her dessert.
Meng Cenjun heard a rustling sound behind her, like a small animal that had broken into her house and was rummaging through things to eat.
He kept a straight face and refrained from turning around, focusing all his attention on dinner. He was still upset after arguing with her.
Unable to find him and seeing his indifferent attitude, Lan Jia was indignant and determined to regain the upper hand. So she pulled out a dining table chair, sat down directly, and stared at his back.
Meng Cenjun, with his keen sixth sense, had already noticed a burning, malicious gaze on his back. He didn't stop it or offer any opinion, and calmly put the second steak into the pan.
The kitchen was silent, the sizzling sound of frying meat like a light rain falling, a light rain falling between the two of them.
Lan Jia rested her chin on her hands, thinking wistfully: she would always hate a cold, impersonal atmosphere, like a teacup that had been used, the steam dissipated, leaving only tears and heartache. In the movies she watched, when the main characters argued, one would sulk, and the other would storm out, slamming the door behind them; the scene would always end with a similar close-up shot.
Faced with such situations, she always loses her composure and always ends up losing miserably.
After turning off the stove, Meng Cenjun was skillfully arranging the fried asparagus and cherry tomatoes on a plate when he heard soft footsteps approaching from behind. Just as he was wondering how to call her to eat, he suddenly felt a tightness around his waist as two slender arms wrapped around him, causing him to freeze in place.
He never knew he had a sensitive back.
"Where's my cake?" Lan Jia pressed her face against his back.
Actually, she only reached a little above his shoulder; she had a slender frame and her limbs were quite fleshy, making the two appear to have a significant size difference. After puberty, she was always unhappy that she hadn't grown two centimeters taller, which made her constantly have to look up to talk to people next to her, putting her at a disadvantage. Just like now, not wanting to be inferior, she had to avoid looking at him when she spoke.
Meng Cenjun paused, steadied her hands, and continued to drizzle the mixed olive oil and vinegar dressing over the salad, asking in a hoarse voice, "Aren't you going to have dinner?"
Would you like to invite me to eat?
"I made a portion for two."
Lan Jia agreed, but then tiptoed and planted a kiss on his fair neck.
Warm and moist, it spread like an electric current, quickly reaching his nerve endings.
Meng Cenjun seemed to retreat, leaning forward and bracing her hands on the table with the inertia, revealing strong, firm arms with bulging veins.
"What nonsense are you spouting now?" He frowned.
"Didn't you tell me to eat it?" Lan Jia retorted.
"I told you to eat this?"
"Hmm, dinner."
Meng Cenjun's head started to throb, and she felt like a fish on a chopping board, at her mercy, yet helpless and unable to do anything about it. All she could do was scold her in a deep voice: "Where did you learn all this nonsense from now on?"
Lan Jia laughed: "Can't I learn without a teacher?"
From childhood to adulthood, he taught her math, French, how to read a professor's mind, how to get straight A's in exams, golf, skiing, social skills, lifesaving knowledge, how to remain calm in the face of people he disliked, and even how to tie a beautiful knot with a ribbon... He taught her everything she might need for the rest of her life, but he never considered that there would be things she wouldn't need him to teach her in the future.
Having long been accustomed to being relied upon by her, Meng Cenjun suddenly had a crazy idea: even something like this should be taught to her by him.
He held his breath, closed his eyes, and forced himself to calm down before calling out to her, "Lan Jia, we should talk about what happened earlier."
"Mmm." She continued to hug him. "I've regained my senses now."
"Then I apologize for my irrationality just now," he said.
I accept.
"I have no intention of interfering with you; your body and your feelings are always your own responsibility."
"Um……"
He paused for a moment, then said, "Lan Jia, actually I didn't mean to push you away."
"Then why..."
"You're twenty years old, and I've been your older brother for twenty years. Our relationship isn't something that can be changed so easily. Give me some time, okay?"
"How long will that take? So, you mean until you fully accept it, we can only be brother and sister, right?"
Meng Cenjun remained silent, unable to give her a definite answer, but many fragmented thoughts still flashed through her mind. She thought with a hint of mockery: They've already done so much that isn't brother and sister, so what am I pretending to be here for?
Lan Jia buried her face in his shirt, smelling a faint, pleasant scent, and said in a muffled voice, "Then I also want you to understand that intimacy and physical intimacy are equally important to me, and neither can be lacking."
"I understand that you need time to change, and I'm willing to be there for you. But during this process, could you please give me some rewards in advance?"
Meng Cenjun thought of the small box and pondered, "Experiencing certain things before the time is right could very well harm you, do you understand?"
Lan Jia pouted: "It doesn't have to come to that. A small reward would be fine, wouldn't it?"
What do you want?
“You have to make your boundaries clear to me.” She held up a finger and poked his waist.
Meng Cenjun clenched her fists as she supported herself on the table, her voice unsteady: "Fine, then I'll make you understand."
He turned around, took a few steps forward, dragged out a light pink dining table and chair, and sat down directly in front of her.
"Lan Jia, come here." His deep eyes stared straight at her, like black jade in a deep pool.
Her breath hitched, yet she was irresistibly drawn to him, and slowly walked toward him.
He reached out his hand to her.
She obediently reached out and let him hold her wrists, pulling her towards him.
"Come up," he calmly commanded.
She swallowed carefully, her knees tentatively touching the velvet seat, then the other, and he readily opened his mouth to embrace her.
The single chair was barely big enough for two people. Lan Jia bent over, maintaining her balance only in his hands, her heart pounding precariously.
He held her hand and gazed deeply into her eyes: "Now, I'm going to tell you my bottom line."
Lan Jia watched as her fingers slowly traced his forehead, between his brows, the straight lines of his nose, his soft lips, his chin, his Adam's apple... He used his body as territory, as a map, to guide her in sketching, exploring, and defining the domain that belonged to her.
The search came to an abrupt end when she touched the cold metal, as if she had encountered a high wall that blocked everything.
He held her hand in his palm, as if to make sure she wouldn't move, before saying seriously, "Lan Jia, this is my boundary, do you understand?"
"So, everything above is mine now, right?"
Silence implies tacit agreement.
Lan Jia suddenly laughed, her eyes gleaming, pointed at herself, and commanded:
"Now, kiss me."
Author's Note: Tell me loudly, is it sweet?! [Milk Tea]
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