When Song Qing came out from the washroom, in the bedroom, Nan Zhi had already turned on the air conditioner, changed into her pajamas, got on the bed, and rolled up her sleeve to kiss the area a little below her own elbow.
She actually wanted to kiss a fleshier part of her arm, but couldn’t reach.
The pajamas were thinner than outer clothes, but not much better, she still couldn’t reach the spot, or rather, that part of the body itself couldn’t be reached.
During the concert break, when they were casually chatting, he had heard a few lines, not complete, but could more or less guess — she wanted to try out the feeling of kissing.
He didn’t interrupt either. After taking away his own pajamas and sleep pants, he went to the washroom to change and came out.
When he returned to the bedroom, Nan Zhi was still trying, her arm covered in red marks from kissing, over a dozen of them, big and small. It was unclear why she was so interested in this.
Song Qing adjusted the wheelchair to a proper angle, locked the wheels, propped himself up with both hands on the armrests, and got onto the bed as well. He had just laid down and taken out his phone to check software feedback, when Nan Zhi, separated by a folding screen, muttered, “Still can’t figure it out…”
After all, man and woman are different. Although normally they often snuggled together, and Nan Zhi often loved to lie on his bed, when she was on the bed, he usually wouldn’t follow, so there was still some sense of propriety.
Suddenly sleeping together all night in one room, Nan Zhi being a girl, changing clothes and doing things was often not convenient. Fortunately, they had chosen a Chinese-style room. Beside the living room sofa was a folding screen. Once the screen was placed in the middle, it preserved privacy for both sides. The screen wasn’t fully closed, so they could still see each other. It was quite good.
Nan Zhi had low blood sugar, this was a condition where she could faint at any time. If she couldn’t see properly for a moment, or missed a meal, she could just collapse.
Having her within eyesight was more reassuring.
Usually she stayed upstairs alone. He never said it, but he was indeed a bit worried — he’d call her every so often just to see if she was still alive. Ever since she stopped working and stayed downstairs every day, fluttering around near and behind him, he felt much more at ease.
Now he realized, sleeping like this was even better.
Just lifting his head and he could see her side. She liked to toss and turn in her sleep, noisy, and when he woke up in the middle of the night and stared a bit longer, seeing her suddenly lift an arm or a leg, he’d know she was still lively and bouncing. His anxious heart would settle, and he’d naturally sleep more soundly.
Every night he would sleep until dawn. Speaking of which, he couldn’t really understand — what was Nan Zhi always thinking about, why was she always tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep?
“What exactly does kissing feel like?”
Nan Zhi used to never worry about these things. She felt she was full of problems, her emotions were delicate — simply put, sensitive, weak, hard to serve. To not drag others down, she had always considered growing old alone.
But the thing was, ever since she was little, she had always lived with her grandma. She was used to being with two people. Being alone made her feel lonely — a kind of loneliness as if forgotten by the world.
She didn’t like that. Every day she struggled — on one side, her reason told her that a marriage certificate was a man’s get-out-of-jail-free card. If domestic violence happened, she wouldn’t even be able to divorce. On the other hand, she longed for a plain and simple life with someone.
One person is too little. Too many people is too much. Two people is just right.
She didn’t know if it was because she met Song Qing that she started reconsidering all of this.
Was the relationship between her and Song Qing purely clean and platonic between a man and a woman?
Probably not. What kind of man gives all the money he earns to a woman, only asking for money when he doesn’t have any? He earns in the hundreds of thousands, but only asks her for tens or hundreds.
He didn’t even have a few hundred on him. Going out to eat, the expenses were big, so it was default that she paid. Because he didn’t have it — all of it was with her. Her own, and his too.
She had searched online. Only married couples were like this.
The software developer’s name, the registered property name — all were hers. The payment recipient was also her. Put plainly, if she wanted to, she could sue and take everything from him.
The app with a booming number of users, the money already credited, etc.
Even most married couples couldn’t do this.
As for the earlier worry about domestic violence — with Song Qing’s condition, it was already good if she didn’t beat him. He absolutely couldn’t lay hands on her.
And also, he wasn’t that kind of person, his character could be one hundred percent guaranteed.
Emotionally stable, doesn’t avoid housework, gives her both money and power, would take care of her — it’s because he’s too good that she couldn’t help but have the thought of starting a family.
This time it was serious, not like the past little squabbles.
—
When Song Qing was still recording feedback information, he was caught off guard by the sound of Nan Zhi getting off the bed from the opposite side, followed quickly by the sound of putting on shoes and walking over.
Song Qing’s typing hand paused slightly, then continued, still typing into the input box, but the speed was much slower than before — his attention was all behind the screen divider.
Not long after, Nan Zhi came around the screen, walked to his bedside, stared fixedly at him for a while, then as if making some kind of decision, took off her shoes and came up.
Song Qing’s fingers completely stopped, all of his gaze stayed on Nan Zhi.
Nan Zhi was on the right side, he was on the left side of the bed, but soon Nan Zhi came up to his side — just like when they were at the concert at seven or eight o’clock, suddenly very, very close to him, close enough to clearly see the patterns in each other’s pupils.
She didn’t speak, just stared straight at him for a while before asking, “Can I?”
She didn’t say can what, and didn’t need to say, because anything was okay.
Song Qing, as always, nodded without bottom line.
“Can.”
Everything was okay.
Didn’t know what exactly she wanted to do, but it didn’t matter — anyway, whatever Nan Zhi did was okay.
Nan Zhi’s expression slightly relaxed, and she got even closer, so close that their breaths tangled together, so close that Song Qing’s long lashes couldn’t help but tremble lightly.
He also didn’t know what exactly Nan Zhi wanted to do. What he could do was wait. Keep waiting, patiently wait.
After what seemed like a very, very long time, a hand reached over and turned his head slightly to the side, making only one cheek face her.
He still couldn’t guess what Nan Zhi wanted to do — or maybe he already had an answer in his heart. After all, it was obvious. Both times he came back he saw her experimenting, and just now she was still hesitating over it, just didn’t dare be certain.
After a while, he felt a coolness on his cheek — Nan Zhi kissed him.
This kiss was like an appetizer in a feast — the one who ordered the dish had a taste and found it good, then took a few more bites. He felt like he was kissed several times, each kiss very light.
Maybe after a few light tastes, she finally confirmed it was a flavor she liked — the one who ordered the dish picked up a whole chopstick’s worth in one go. Song Qing felt like he was being gnawed on.
Truly gnawed — the plumpest part of his cheek was lightly bitten once.
Maybe the appetizer was enough — he was released. Nan Zhi turned his face, making him face her directly.
Like shifting the target from appetizer to another dish — wanted to try something else.
She leaned in slowly, the target was…
Song Qing finally couldn’t hold back, pushed her away. “Dirty…”
He was like Nan Zhi’s friend, someone who knew the inside story of this dish, recommending her another dish — he undid the buttons of his sleepwear himself, exposing his neck.
“Kiss here then. Here, I wipe over it every day when I wash my face.”
It was the cleanest place on his whole body aside from his face.
Nan Zhi was a good-tempered friend. She didn’t mind that the dish she wanted to eat was taken away — she simply tried the dish he recommended.
Song Qing felt his neck was also bitten once. It was no longer like how his cheek was treated earlier — gently, a few shallow kisses like testing the waters before gnawing — this time it skipped over the previous steps altogether.
Maybe it was a bit more practiced than earlier. The first time had that feeling of not daring to bite too hard, afraid of breaking the skin. This time, the strength was a little heavier. He felt a bit of pain.
Compared to the pain, it was more of a fine, lingering tingling itch that made him want to shrink his neck to escape — but he didn’t.
He was the one who said, anything was okay. Now, she seemed like she still hadn’t had enough.
It was like inviting someone for a meal and trying to chase them away after they’d only taken two bites — that would be somewhat unreasonable. So he endured that itchiness and continued tilting his neck back, letting her gnaw.
After she stayed a long time on the dish he had recommended, she once again set her eyes on the dish she originally had her eye on.
Song Qing tightly closed his lips — didn’t allow it.
But Nan Zhi was stubborn too. He didn’t agree, so she just kept staring at him, attitude firm.
After the standoff lasted a long while, in the end, he still couldn’t help but yield.
Nan Zhi leaned in and kissed him.
She didn’t care at all whether the person she kissed had grown up eating leftovers and scraps, nor did she care how much moldy and spoiled stuff that person had consumed.
The things growing on the surface of flesh and skin — those were okay, could be washed and scrubbed repeatedly. But the things underneath the blood and flesh — he always felt like he was dirty, like a flower and plant raised with rotting meat and decaying leaves. On the surface, it looked fine, but inside it was already rotten.
But Nan Zhi didn’t mind.