At sunset, golden light slowly streamed through the glass window, spreading a dazzling afterglow across the room.
The surroundings were extremely quiet. Cheng Fangqiu could even hear her own heart pounding wildly. The close proximity allowed his breath to invade her body, strand by strand, domineering and irresistible, stirring an unreasonable tingling sensation.
Her long eyelashes trembled again and again. Her gaze, uncontrollably, drifted downward. They say black is slimming, but why did its presence still feel so overwhelming? A bulging mass, as if aware of her gaze and afraid she might not see it, edged forward slightly, brushing directly against her knee.
Separated by a thin layer of fabric, the firm pressure clung tightly to her. She could almost feel the burning heat seeping through.
Cheng Fangqiu’s fingertips, which rested on his shoulder, instinctively curled. But with just that slight movement, her hand shifted from its original position, slipping off the fabric of his Zhongshan suit and grazing the skin of his neck, lightly skimming over the protruding veins.
In the next second, she saw Zhou Yinghuai’s neck flush red at a visible speed. His Adam’s apple rolled restlessly up and down, and even the breath he exhaled beside her ear grew noticeably heavier.
“Qiuqiu.” He murmured her name softly, as if urging her, or perhaps complaining—why wasn’t she helping him? Why was she still teasing him?
“Shh.”
Cheng Fangqiu lifted her finger and pressed it against his thin lips. Her slender, pale fingers, with faintly pink-tinted nails, were so exquisitely delicate that they seemed as if the heavens had personally sculpted them.
At that moment, they both instinctively lifted their eyelashes. Their gazes collided, and their hearts skipped a beat in unison.
Zhou Yinghuai pursed his lips. Just as he was about to speak, a soft hand covered his eyelids. His vision instantly plunged into darkness. Unable to see anything, his other senses became even more acute. In the end, he chose to quietly close his mouth.
He felt a single fingertip slowly trace down from his lips, gliding over his Adam’s apple, collarbone, chest, and abdominal muscles…
When it reached the button of his trousers, he couldn’t help but let out a shallow breath. His hands, braced against the table, unconsciously tightened, veins bulging along the backs of his hands. His long, well-defined fingers, combined with the tension of his grip, exuded an indescribable sensuality.
Clearly, it was he who had made the request first, yet at this moment, he wanted to take the initiative to stop this absurdity happening in broad daylight.
But the words rushed to his lips, only to remain unsaid.
The fingertips continued their movements. Perhaps finding it difficult to operate with one hand, she struggled for a long time but still hadn’t undone the button. Beads of fine sweat began to form on his forehead, his warm breath growing heavier with each passing second.
When the button was finally undone, he exhaled in relief, bending slightly at the waist as if a burden had been lifted. Instinctively, he lowered his head, seeking her lips.
However, the hand covering his eyes prevented his movement. With just a gentle push, he obediently maintained his position, not daring to move an inch beyond what was allowed.
So, he was also afraid that his lack of cooperation would make her give up on the next outrageous move—one that would be enough to drive him insane.
Although he didn’t want to admit it, he was indeed anticipating it. He was yearning for it.
The weather had been lovely recently, and every evening offered a different twilight view. But to Cheng Fangqiu, today’s sunset was the most beautiful, the most breathtaking.
It was a soft pinkish-purple.
Cheng Fangqiu sat by the window, the tips of her ears tinged red, yet her expression remained lazy and content. Her long legs were slightly spread, swinging lightly in the air. Every now and then, she deliberately brushed against his thigh as a reward, watching as he bit his lower lip to suppress the muffled sounds in his throat.
Seeing this, the corners of her lips curled up slightly. She could feel the ticklish sensation in her palm from his trembling eyelashes. Mm, and there was also the scorching heat radiating from the other palm, along with its occasional, uncontrollable throbbing.
She silently admired the man who had always been noble and untouchable, now losing control under her hands, sinking into indulgence…
It didn’t feel like she was pleasing him. Rather, it was as if he was pleasing her.
If he did it himself, perhaps the effect would be even better.
Thinking of this, she blinked, marveling at how a person could be this clever.
Then, she leaned in, her nose slowly closing in on his, her soft breaths intertwining with his heavy ones. She took the initiative to hook her lips onto his, her pearly teeth lightly nibbling on his lower lip. But just as he was about to deepen the kiss, she suddenly pulled away.
“Hubby, my hand is sore.”
As soon as she spoke, she abruptly withdrew her hand, wiping it casually on his waist. Immediately, she felt the muscles there tense up.
Damp. Sticky. A little scandalously hot.
He parted his lips slightly, his voice so hoarse it was almost unrecognizable, tinged with a trace of pleading. “Qiuqiu…”
That voice, landing in Cheng Fangqiu’s ears, had a forbidden kind of sensuality, nearly pulling her soul away.
“You said just touching.” She resisted the urge to fall for it, continuing her slow and steady approach.
Zhou Yinghuai caught the meaning behind her words and momentarily choked. His Adam’s apple bobbed lightly, and he felt like he had dug a hole for himself and jumped right in. His vision was still blocked by her hand, so he didn’t see the sly smile at the corner of her lips. Pressing his lips together, he was still thinking of how to coax her when suddenly, the hand he had been bracing against the table was caught by her.
Though slightly surprised and unsure of her intentions, he instinctively complied, lifting his hand as she used the hem of his shirt to wipe it clean.
It wasn’t until he belatedly realized what she had done that he felt both helpless and reluctant, instinctively wanting to pull his hand back. But by now, it was clearly too late.
“Hurry up, I’m really hungry.” She leaned in coquettishly by his ear, her soft, spoiled tone breaking down his defenses word by word. “Aren’t you uncomfortable? Once it’s over, you won’t feel uncomfortable anymore.”
“I’ll help you too.”
As she spoke, she guided his hand, slowly moving it toward—
At some point, the hand that had been covering his eyes was already gone. The dim golden light made him squint in slight discomfort, and only after adjusting did he fully open his eyes.
He was still leaning against the shadowed wall, while she sat in the well-lit spot by the window, hands neatly placed on her knees, staring at him without blinking as he sat there, dazed and disheveled.
Little liar.
Zhou Yinghuai’s deep black eyes narrowed slightly, dark and unreadable.
Suddenly, he reached out and hooked his arm around the back of her knee, pulling her toward him. Caught off guard, she tumbled straight into his embrace, her chest crashing directly into him.
“You like watching that much?”
Cheng Fangqiu felt the impact of soft flesh colliding, a slight ache spreading across her chest. She hadn’t even had time to complain before her gaze met his.
From this angle, his pupils appeared like an abyss of pure darkness, unfathomable, evoking both an inexplicable fear and an irresistible allure, making her want to drown in them.
“N-No, not really.”
Sensing the danger, she instinctively swallowed.
But before she could react further, she realized—his hands hadn’t stopped moving.
Instead, they had become even more reckless.
“Heh.”
He let out a low chuckle, the magnetic rasp of his voice echoing through the room, dripping with ambiguity.
Cheng Fangqiu was trapped in his embrace, watching—completely, from start to finish—a “premiere performance” that belonged to her alone.
And afterward, the sticky mess was all wiped onto her beautiful red plaid skirt.
Madman. He was even crazier than she was.
—
As night gradually fell, in an era when households were reluctant to use electricity, the roads leading home were shrouded in darkness.
The standalone Western-style buildings in the machinery factory complex all looked the same, but Chang Yan’an could easily recognize his own home. Aside from the memory etched into his bones, there was also the fact that, unlike other houses, his was brightly lit.
Even from a distance, that warm glow in the dark was unmistakable.
Stopping his bicycle at the entrance, he took a deep breath, as if mentally preparing himself for something. Only then did he take out his key, unlock the door, and push his bicycle inside.
As soon as he entered, something felt off. His gaze landed on a patch of drooping rosebushes, and his brows furrowed slightly. Thinking it might be his imagination, he closed his eyes and opened them again, but the sight remained unchanged.
Gripping the bicycle handles a little tighter, he instinctively glanced toward the Western-style house.
What game is she playing this time?
The mere thought of the inevitable shouting match that awaited him made his head throb. Parking the bicycle, he took the briefcase hanging from the handlebar and slowly walked inside.
Just as he opened the door, a slender, soft body flung itself at him, wrapping tightly around his waist.
Chang Yan’an instinctively reached out, grabbing her wrists to pull her away, but the moment he moved, a sharp intake of breath sounded next to his ear.
He froze for a second, then loosened his grip.
But only for a moment.
In the next breath, he had already reverted to his usual cold demeanor and pushed her away.
This woman loved to put on a show—he hadn’t even used much force.
“I’ve told you many times not to hug me at the door. If someone sees, it won’t look good.”
Xu Qiqi shrugged indifferently. “I’m hugging my own man in my own house. What’s wrong with that? Those gossipy old hens can say whatever they want—it’s not like I’m living my life for them.”
Chang Yan’an’s brows knitted even tighter, disapproval flashing across his face. He was just about to say something when she covered her ears, making it clear she had no intention of listening.
Seeing this, all the words that had risen to his lips were swallowed back down.
Noticing his silence, Xu Qiqi smirked slightly before finally lowering her hands. She leaned lazily against the entryway, watching him change his shoes.
The man was tall, his figure lean yet upright. He wore a crisp white dress shirt and well-fitted black trousers. With sharp eyebrows, deep-set eyes, and striking features, he carried an air of quiet sophistication. A small brown mole rested at the tip of his nose, adding a touch of allure to his otherwise cool and distant face.
A pair of frameless glasses perched on his nose, concealing his inscrutable gaze behind the lenses, making him look refined and elegant—someone unattainable.
But Xu Qiqi preferred how he looked without those glasses.
Especially in bed.
A beast in disguise, yet always pretending to be a gentleman. That contrast was intoxicating.
At this thought, her delicate brows furrowed slightly.
How long had it been since they last did it?
A week? Half a month?
Probably ever since the third day after their wedding, when she found a photo of his ex-wife hidden in his study. That was the night they had their first major argument.
And after that… they started sleeping in separate rooms.
They never had a moment of peace. Small arguments happened daily, big fights every three days. And every single time, she was the one who gave in first.
Just like now. She acted as if nothing had happened, sidling up to him, while he played along, speaking to her as if everything was normal, lecturing her like always.
Only, his cold and indifferent attitude was really irritating.
Her mind wandered until the lights around her flickered for a second. Snapping back to reality, she saw that he had already changed his shoes and was now moving around the house, switching off unnecessary lights one by one.
“Don’t turn on so many lights.”
And there it was—another lecture.
Xu Qiqi pouted, letting out a cold huff. “Hmph. No one can compare to your ex-wife. So virtuous and frugal, huh?”
The moment those words fell, she saw Chang Yan’an’s hand freeze mid-action, and then—his face instantly turned cold.