As soon as he finished speaking, Zhou Mi burst into laughter, an instinctive reaction. Too many blossoms of joy to contain, one had to escape through her throat.

“What are you laughing at?” Zhang Lian’s lips still hovered against hers, his breath warm and moist.

Zhou Mi curved her lips, her eyelashes brushing against his face, her voice faint: “I don’t quite believe it.”

Zhang Lian asked: “Why?”

Zhou Mi said, “I feel like you’re such a bad person…”

Before she could finish her sentence, his lips sealed hers, quick and firm.

Zhou Mi felt her chest tighten, her hands patting his back muscles in protest.

Zhang Lian laughed and asked: “Then why do you like being held by a bad person so much?”

Zhou Mi cunningly replied: “I just like being held…”

He kissed her again, this time sucking and biting, his teeth punishingly applying pressure to her lower lip, as if trying to bite away all her contradictions.

Zhou Mi whimpered in pain, her heart pounding wildly, baring her teeth with a flushed face: “Be careful, I might bite you too.”

Zhang Lian kissed her a third time, without pulling away.

They entangled more tightly, from head to toe, fitting together like precisely closed mechanisms.

The sweet shower gel scent mingled on their bodies; they were like two animals, frolicking passionately and intensely among scattered berries, biting at each other.

When they separated, both were sweaty.

Zhou Mi pressed against his neck hollow, panting: “The shower was wasted.”

Zhang Lian kissed the top of her head: “Endure it.”

Zhou Mi asked with ulterior motives: “Are you saying that to yourself?”

Zhang Lian’s breath quickened for a moment: “I am saying it to myself.”

Zhou Mi raised her head, making a circle with her thumb and forefinger, lightly flicking his chin: “Need help?”

Zhang Lian tilted his head, avoiding it, and when he looked back at her, his eyes held some mischief: “Ready to fulfill your third statement just now?”

Zhou Mi paused, then reacted: “No way!”

As she answered, her hand had already mischievously found its precise target.

Zhang Lian’s breath caught, and he commanded in a deep voice: “Put it in.”

Before Zhou Mi could escape, he pressed her back in place, his fingers slipping between hers, controlling tightly, guiding without allowing struggle, forward and backward, like forced dance steps.

“Do I still need to teach you?” His voice was hoarse, mocking, yet enticing.

Zhou Mi stiffened her neck, beginning to perform on her own with a red face.

This time seemed longer than before, and this repetitive tracing was also a form of torture for her. Zhou Mi felt hot all over, and finally, strangely mumbled: “Have I become rusty?”

Zhang Lian pulled a smile among increasingly rapid breaths: “Because I drank alcohol.”

Zhou Mi learned for the first time: “This happens when you drink?”

Zhang Lian: “Mmm.”

“You did this on purpose.”

“Look it up.”

Due to his fair complexion, when the feeling rose, Zhang Lian’s face would flush red, and his ears too. This purely natural change was very tempting, giving the illusion that he was controllable at this moment, but when he grasped the back of her head and kissed her fiercely as if to devour her, Zhou Mi felt that he was still that ferocious beast full of wicked intentions.

The bedroom light was turned on again.

Zhou Mi nestled back into Zhang Lian’s embrace, immediately dramatically extended her right hand, poking his nose bridge, deliberately whining: “Massage it for me, I have tendonitis now…”

Zhang Lian wanted to say something, but in the end didn’t say a word, smilingly catching her hand and gently massaging her wrist.

She snuggled contentedly in his arms, unable to resist asking: “Why did you close your eyes at the end? Were you disgusted by my poor technique and didn’t want to see me anymore?”

He slightly tilted his face, approaching her temple, speaking softly: “Imagining being inside you.”

Zhou Mi’s face, which had just returned to normal temperature, turned into a red-hot stove again.

She burrowed back under the covers, covering most of her face, her big eyes blinking: “I want to sleep now.”

Zhang Lian lowered his gaze, quietly watching her for a while before turning off the light.

The two embraced again.

Zhou Mi was filled with warmth, her voice crisp and clear, so delighted that she even used reduplicated words: “Good night-night, Zhang Lian-lian.”

Zhang Lian was amused: “Good night, Zhou Mi.”

After a moment of silence, Zhang Lian’s shoulder blades moved impatiently: “Have you never fallen off the bed from childhood till now?”

“Never!” Zhou Mi gritted her teeth.

“Hold me tight. If I fall off tonight, I’ll dock your salary for one month. Twice, and it’s two months.”

“…Be careful, I might report you.”

…

—

The next morning, Zhou Mi slept until she naturally woke up, still drowsy and unwilling to open her eyes. When she turned over, she felt an obstacle beside her and suddenly remembered who was next to her.

Her eyelashes lifted, and she found Zhang Lian sitting up against the headboard, looking at his phone.

His arm still loosely circled her, and his gaze moved from the screen to her face.

“Morning,” he said.

Zhou Mi propped herself up slightly and realized that although his posture seemed casual and relaxed, nearly half his body was already hanging off the edge of the bed, trying to give her as much space as possible. With the slightest movement, he might slide off.

Zhou Mi quickly grabbed his collar, rapidly moving herself toward the inside, returning to the wall side: “Move in more to sleep.”

“Can I even sleep?” Zhang Lian shifted his position slightly, finally looking somewhat “safe.”

Zhou Mi let out a breath of relief, releasing her hand, then heard him say: “Even a three-meter bed wouldn’t be enough for you.”

Zhou Mi lightly punched his chest.

She was immediately caught by Zhang Lian, held by the back of her hand, and pressed back against him. His other hand also placed the phone back on the pillow, as if he wanted to talk to her with full attention.

His light red lips didn’t move, but his eyes seemed to contain plenty of affectionate content.

Zhou Mi’s face warmed slightly: “Why are you looking at me with those seductive eyes so early in the morning?”

Zhang Lian displayed a speechless smile: “When will you learn not to ruin the mood?”

Zhou Mi grinned, showing two rows of pearl-like small teeth: “Is the mood good right now?”

Zhang Lian said, “This is the first time I haven’t left immediately after waking up, watching you sleep for so long.”

Zhou Mi accused: “That’s right, before, at the hotel, you would always sneak away early.”

“Sneak away?” Zhang Lian scoffed, disagreeing with this description: “I’m not a student, I don’t have as much free time as you.”

Zhou Mi played with his hand, humming: “Before, you were like someone having an affair, afraid of being discovered at home, wanting to leave as early as possible, washing up and leaving a kiss, then disappearing without a trace for a whole month.”

Zhang Lian’s eye corners curved slightly: “Did you miss me a lot?”

“Mmm,” Zhou Mi saw no need to deny it, mumbling: “Especially the first few times, I would regret only meeting with you once a month.”

Zhang Lian leaned closer: “Me too.”

Zhou Mi’s ear and cheek junction area tickled from his breath, and she giggled: “Then why didn’t you suggest increasing the frequency?”

Zhang Lian said, “If I said I was afraid of being too much and scaring you away, would you believe me?”

Zhou Mi raised her eyes: “No.”

“Then never mind.”

Zhou Mi began to intently trace his palm lines: “Will you miss me after you go back?”

Zhang Lian said, “When I’m with you, I’m already thinking about when we’ll meet next.”

Zhou Mi tried hard to suppress her smile, as if afraid that some large piece of honey hidden in her mouth might accidentally fall out. Her fingertip followed his lowest line, meandering downward, incredulous: “Your love line is so clean.”

Zhang Lian laughed: “In terms of superstition, you follow your mentor’s footsteps.”

Zhou Mi’s expression changed, forcefully jabbing his palm.

Zhang Lian gripped her hand again, not letting her misbehave.

She tried hard to pull her hand out, and he started tickling her. Zhou Mi didn’t dare laugh loudly, only able to squirm in his arms like a kitten forced to show its belly, trying to regain normal position and balance.

Finally, Zhang Lian flipped over, pinning her down.

The thin blanket on the bed became a mess in the struggle, twisting into the shape of their overlapping legs.

Both her wrists were held down above her head on the pillow with one hand. Zhou Mi couldn’t move at all, her posture like someone handcuffed to a wall or cross before execution.

Her heart beat rapidly.

He lowered himself.

Neither of them had brushed their teeth yet.

So this would only be a marginal, extremely gentle, delicate punishment. His lips barely touched her cheek, her ear, her neck, her eyelids, as if appreciating every line of her face, every patch of skin with his breath.

Zhou Mi couldn’t help but moan softly, her chest rising and falling with increasing urgency.

Finally, the man’s face backlit, said hoarsely, “I’ll take you when we get back.” Zhou Mi couldn’t bear his gaze, blushing and shifting slightly, and only then did he release her.

—

During breakfast, Zhang Lian transformed back into a masterfully crafted statue of asceticism, his shirt meticulously buttoned to the very top, sitting properly, even when just handling fried eggs with crispy edges.

Zhou Mi gulped her boxed milk, her sneaky glances like egg whites rapidly whipped by a beater, threatening to splash sweet droplets onto his face at any moment.

Tang Peili caught every bit of her daughter’s infatuated foolishness.

She rolled her eyes slightly, characteristically leaving no face: “Mimi, does Zhang Lian make your food taste better?”

Zhou Mi: “…”

She quickly gathered her gaze, lowering her head and rapidly devouring her toast.

Zhang Lian glanced over, curving the corner of his mouth.

Zhou Mi thought again and justified herself: “What’s wrong with looking at my boyfriend?”

Tang Peili humored her: “Oh, oh, oh, good, good, look all you want, look until the sky falls and the earth cracks, the sea dries and the rocks rot.”

She stood up to leave, not disturbing the magnetic field between the two that no one could intrude upon.

Zhang Lian glanced in the direction of Zhou Mi’s mother’s departure, smiling conspicuously behind the dining table: “Can you be a bit more restrained?”

“I just want to look,” Zhou Mi poked her toast with a fork: “You’re called Zhang Lian, I’m not called Zhang Lian.”

Zhang Lian said, “You’re called Zhou Mi, how many meticulous things have you done?”

Zhou Mi was speechless.

She tore off another piece of bread, putting it in her mouth and chewing slowly, no longer weighing her words: “Are you busy this afternoon?”

The man looked over: “Not too bad, I’m also resting.”

Zhou Mi puffed her cheeks: “Then can you…”

“Hmm?”

“Watch a movie with me?” She touched her neck slightly shyly, then took out her phone as leverage for the invitation: “I’ve wanted to see this one since three weeks ago, never had time, and it would be a shame to watch it leave theaters without seeing it.”

Zhang Lian narrowed his eyes to look at the movie title on her screen, and without hesitation: “Sure.”

Zhou Mi’s almond eyes were round, somewhat surprised: “You agreed just like that?”

Zhang Lian: “Mmm.”

He also asked: “You’re not afraid of being seen this time?”

Zhou Mi opened the seat selection interface, zooming in with two fingers, pointing to a certain spot: “That’s why I plan to sit at the very back, where there are the fewest people.”

Zhang Lian neither agreed nor disagreed.

Zhou Mi put down her phone, repeatedly confirming: “You want to?”

Zhang Lian asked: “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

Zhou Mi twirled her finger: “I don’t know, I just feel like these trivial, everyday things don’t match your style?”

“Just like at the subway station last time…” Her voice grew quieter, as if recalling and analyzing: “It doesn’t seem like something you would willingly do.”

Zhang Lian laughed, sighing: “How much do you misunderstand me?”

Zhou Mi pressed her lips high: “But you look like the kind of… existence that should always be kept in a glass dust cover.”

Zhang Lian suddenly said, “Give me your hand.”

Zhou Mi’s eyelids fluttered: “What for…?”

“Just give it to me.”

Zhou Mi extended her hand.

Zhang Lian held it: “Is there a dust cover?”

Zhou Mi tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let go, instead interlocking their fingers more tightly, her right hand, his left hand, blatantly fitting together perfectly on the table. His eyes also locked onto hers, demanding: “Is there?”

Hearing her mother seemingly about to return from the balcony, Zhou Mi frantically pulled her hand back, pressing her heated cheek, raising her phone again with renewed determination: “Then I’ll book the tickets, and you’re not allowed to say another word of nonsense.”