Lisa subtly moved closer to him, her arm barely grazing his shirt sleeve, her dress almost touching his trousers. Perfect, she thought. Looking up with feigned innocence, she asked, “Teacher Yin, what masterpiece are you working on lately?”

Yin Feng’s gaze fell on her small face and slender neck. He thought to himself: Would you even understand if I told you what I’m writing? Looking down at her, he smiled slightly and said, “Nothing much.”

Just that casual tone and the slight smile at the corner of his lips made Lisa’s heart flutter. She recalled hearing that Yin Feng was quite the player, and now she could see why. Just one sentence from him could make a woman’s heart melt.

Noticing that others were eating and deliberately avoiding looking their way, Lisa rose to her tiptoes, bringing herself almost against his chest, while maintaining an innocent, playful tone: “Teacher Yin won’t tell me? I’m your fan, you know.”

A soft, fragrant form was practically in his arms. It would have been perfectly natural to embrace her at this point.

Yin Feng watched the girl, tapping his fingers on the balcony railing, but remained motionless.

His lack of movement, yet the absence of rejection, made the girl understand. What a bad man, she thought. But he had every right to be bad. Once again, his cold and roguish demeanor made her heart flutter. She looked at him with a knowing gaze that they both would understand, then grabbed his shirt front, softly complaining, “Teacher Yin, why won’t you talk to me?”

Yin Feng lowered his head and smiled.

Just then, footsteps approached the balcony. Someone was coming.

At that moment, Yin Feng’s hand moved, reaching for the girl’s waist.

A glimmer of triumph flashed in the girl’s eyes.

But suddenly.

A voice echoed in Yin Feng’s mind:

“Yin Feng, if you look at another woman like that again, I’ll break your legs. If you dare touch another woman, I’ll castrate you.”

That voice, carrying a lazy smile, was so familiar. Yin Feng felt his heart involuntarily constrict, suddenly feeling flustered, his hand freezing midway.

He forced a smile: What… what was this?

Was he feeling… guilty?

Just as he tried to collect himself, before his vision could focus on the woman before him, more scenes suddenly flashed through his mind—

In a dim room, that woman’s eyes were red, as if she’d been crying. She could cry?

Her body was naked. Those limbs were long, slender, and curved in all the right places, each inch seemingly containing hidden strength. Yin Feng suddenly felt his throat go dry, because he saw her hair, so messy, scattered beneath his arm. But her gaze was gentle, containing a smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Yin Feng’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

Then he saw more nights, them rolling in bed, lost to the world, sheets in disarray. They teased and played, caressed and kissed, whispered and embraced tightly.

“Ah Xu, don’t bite me,” he heard himself complain pitifully.

Her voice was breathless, grudging: “You little beast…”

He heard himself laughing, and without realizing it, his lips curved up in the present as he remembered himself coaxing: “Open up a bit more, Ah Xu practices judo, so impressive…”

She gave a light grunt but still complied.

…

Yin Feng felt his entire chest filled with something sweet and overwhelming, almost to the point of bursting. As he remained in a daze, savoring the memories, a voice kept calling: “Teacher Yin? Teacher Yin?”

He finally came back to his senses, looking somewhat impatiently toward the source of the voice.

He paused, realizing where he was and what he was doing.

Lisa was feeling rather unnerved now. She had heard rumors about the great writer Yin having suffered brain damage, but earlier the men had tactfully avoided asking, and Yin Feng hadn’t mentioned it, so she wasn’t sure what was going on. But just now, looking at this handsome, profound man who exuded such an unrestrained air, he had been about to embrace her when he suddenly froze.

Then his eyes remained fixed, looking at her yet clearly not seeing her, staring at something else entirely. His breathing gradually quickened, his face flushed, those blank eyes practically indistinguishable from those of someone mentally disabled.

Lisa was extremely conflicted, somewhat afraid of him and wanting to flee from his side. But such a good opportunity with an almost perfect man, despite his unstable mind, made her reluctant to leave. So she continued clutching his shirt, steeling herself as her heart pounded.

When Yin Feng finally recognized the woman before him, he suddenly lost all appetite, all desire to play along with her act. Lisa’s interruption had stopped new memories from surfacing, and he felt like an opium addict who had only taken a few puffs, nowhere near satisfied before the supply ran out. He suddenly understood that that happiness, those nights of joy he had shared with her, were the most intense and incredible kind in the mortal world. He had once been completely ignorant of it, even believing it couldn’t exist.

He had experienced it before.

So when You Mingxu walked onto the balcony, this was the scene she saw—

Behind all those men and women, Yin Feng stood there. A woman was pressed against his chest, clutching his shirt front. From You Mingxu’s angle, his hand appeared to be around the woman’s waist. He was staring at the woman, his eyes so deep, his handsome face even showing a slight flush.

You Mingxu steadied herself, thinking, what was bound to happen, had finally come to pass.