If words had weight, this single sentence was nothing short of triggering an earthquake in Meng Fuyuan’s heart.

Although from the moment Chen Qingwu removed his tail ring, he had already vaguely understood that she had made her decision, when she stated it so directly, he still felt thunderous shock in his heart.

Like a person condemned to death suddenly receiving a pardon right before execution.

Her breath diffused like mist, traveling up along his Adam’s apple and stopping at his lips.

Meng Fuyuan closed his eyes slightly to keep the heat from surging up from within.

At this moment, he had no other thoughts—he only wanted to hold her tightly to confirm she wasn’t illusory, not something imagined in a dream. However, with his wrists bound, his instinctive attempt failed to break free. This feeling made him flustered and disheveled.

She truly knew how to torment him.

Just as he was preparing to try forcibly breaking free, Chen Qingwu finally lowered her head, lightly bit his lip, paused for an instant, then her tongue invaded between his lips without allowing discussion.

Meng Fuyuan could endure no longer. He raised his arms like this, looped them over her head, embraced her tightly with both arms, his crossed, bound hands pressing against her back, forcefully pressing her toward himself.

A swelling pain arose in his chest. Regardless of everything, he desperately plundered her breath, as if only this way could he confirm that her feelings were no different from his:

Wanting to perish together in this world of burning fire and flooding water.

This kiss lasted so long that oxygen was depleted before they finally separated.

Chen Qingwu steadied her breathing.

Meng Fuyuan’s head hung low, forehead resting on her shoulder, exhaling a long, slow breath. The excitement in his heart remained difficult to calm for a long time.

Chen Qingwu felt the hands pressed against her back trembling slightly, that deep, long breath as if smelling the scent on her body.

So intimate, as if a person suffering from craving had finally found redemption.

She didn’t know why, but her eyes also felt hot.

If she hadn’t experienced it herself, how could she believe there would be such a man who loved her deeply like worshipping a faith?

They didn’t speak for a long time, feeling the aftershocks deep in their hearts at this moment.

The room was quiet, only heartbeats and the sound of falling snow outside the window.

Chen Qingwu rested on Meng Fuyuan’s shoulder and spoke softly. “…I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

“I saw the birthday gift you sent.”

“…I missed you so much. If the visa hadn’t been too rushed, I might have flown directly to find you.”

Meng Fuyuan didn’t speak, just turned his head and kissed her ear.

“Was the sick person’s meal sent by someone you arranged?”

“Mm.”

“Then why didn’t you contact me?”

“When I saw the message, the plane was about to take off. I couldn’t very well stop it.”

“You could have at least sent a WeChat message.”

Meng Fuyuan laughed lowly. “That’s a bit unreasonable, isn’t it? I already said I wouldn’t proactively contact you, and you agreed. Having someone deliver food to you theoretically already counts as breaking principle.”

Chen Qingwu let out a light huff. “It was Qiran who took care of me, you know?”

“So what? With such a good opportunity when you were sick, he still couldn’t seize it.”

Chen Qingwu suddenly laughed aloud. “Indeed, not like you who can seize opportunities—going to my house and managing to take a teacup along the way.”

Meng Fuyuan paused at these words, looking at her as if asking, you know?

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I have selfish motives, Qingwu. I possess so few things of yours that I didn’t want to return this rare collection to you.”

She didn’t know why, but she was so moved by his “despicability,” his “selfish motives.”

Though in reality, his love was so noble: never exaggerated, never promoted, never self-satisfied, and never cheapening himself by selling tragedy.

Their voices in conversation were very low, as if merely the mutual response of mist and haze in a valley.

After a moment of silence, not knowing who started first, they lowered their heads and touched lips. That fire particle that had never been extinguished burned again. Unlike the previous bitter struggles of trapped beasts, this kiss was gentler, as if finally filling the anxiety of gain and loss from recent days.

Whether for him or for her.

“Qingwu…”

“Mm?”

The conversation interspersed between kisses was very fragmented, incoherent like sleep talk.

That deep, cold feeling, like crossing an icy river, seemed less bitter only when spoken at this moment.

“I thought you wouldn’t come find me again… but I also seemed unable to prepare to become ordinary family friends with you again. I was thinking, when the agreed deadline came and you still didn’t come find me, what should I do… Perhaps never return to Nancheng for the rest of my life, never see you again…”

Meng Fuyuan took another breath, that heavy breathing brushing past the tip of her nose before approaching her lips again.

“I also thought… perhaps from the beginning I should have adhered to boundaries, not taken that first step… Without everything that happened these past six months, perhaps I could still retreat to the position of elder brother. Having and then losing is more painful than never having at all…”

Chen Qingwu was about to lose her ability to breathe. That heartache wasn’t for herself. “…Did you have no confidence in me?”

“I had no confidence in myself.”

“…How could that be? You’re so good, and I’m not a fool…”

No one spoke anymore.

All the restless anxiety since waiting dissipated in this lingering kiss.

Soon, this was no longer enough.

In such a cold deep winter month, Chen Qingwu felt she was hot like a fire trapped in a cage, unable to find an exit.

And Meng Fuyuan felt this even more so. “…Why are you binding my hands?” In the gap for breathing, he asked in a low voice close to her ear.

“Because just now, and last time, you were too fierce to me.” Chen Qingwu laughed lightly, both arms embracing his head, her voice low and sweet. “…Want to touch?”

It was hard to say whether it was precisely because the other person was Meng Fuyuan that she could restrain her shyness, become so bold, so instinctively display her desire without worrying about being looked down upon by him.

“…” Meng Fuyuan made no sound.

“Who told you not to dare just now—now I won’t let you.” Chen Qingwu lowered her head, using kisses as weapons, methodically landing on every inch of slightly warm skin exposed above his collar.

From the very first kiss, a certain clearly existing presence became even more evident due to her actions.

Her head resting on his shoulder, she turned her head sideways, observing his expression. Wanting to see him fall, also as if wanting to let herself fall, so her knees moved over inch by inch. Through the fabric of dress pants, the moment of contact—Meng Fuyuan closed his eyes at once. The hands pressed behind her seemed to want to stop this but couldn’t due to the restraints.

For a moment, Chen Qingwu made no further moves.

Meng Fuyuan opened his eyes, lowered his gaze to look at her.

Her head hung low, as if this was already her limit.

The lamplight was dim yellow—skin details couldn’t be seen clearly, but with a slight lean closer, he could sense the burning heat spreading from behind her ears to the back of her neck.

He pressed close to her ear and asked with a low laugh, “Why aren’t you continuing?”

Chen Qingwu remained motionless, as if she hadn’t heard his words.

The next instant, she suddenly felt a hand press against her waist. She immediately opened her eyes and looked down.

Meng Fuyuan said in a low voice, “Next time remember to tie a dead knot.”

At this point, the offensive and defensive positions suddenly reversed.

Meng Fuyuan wrapped an arm around her waist, made her sit on his knee, his large palm pressing on the back of her head, making her lower her head. He tilted his head up somewhat fiercely to kiss her, his other hand unhesitatingly invading beneath her sweater.

Indescribable—whether that fire in the cage had found an exit, or because it couldn’t find an exit, it burned more and more vigorously.

Curling her body seemed like an instinctive reaction. That enveloping touch made her shudder from head to toe.

“Qingwu…” Meng Fuyuan’s voice trembled slightly.

“Mm?”

“Go to my room?”

“…Mm.” Chen Qingwu buried her head deeply in his shoulder. She could feel in Meng Fuyuan’s inquiry a deliberately modified calmness, as if not wanting to excessively expose his desire and thereby make things difficult for her.

The moment she spoke, Meng Fuyuan unhesitatingly lifted her up horizontally.

Hard to imagine that this time last year, Meng Fuyuan, who made her feel serious and unapproachable, would be so eager that even while carrying her out these few dozen seconds, he was unwilling to stop this kiss.

Only at the doorway did he pause slightly, freeing a hand to open the door.

The bedroom was right next door.

The entire third floor was completely quiet. Even the hallway lights seemed to sleep with one eye open and one eye closed.

Meng Fuyuan reached out and pressed down on the bedroom door handle. The door opened, and he carried her inside, closing it behind with his backhand.

“Click.”

The sound of locking the door.

Without turning on the overhead light, Meng Fuyuan walked straight toward the bed.

Chen Qingwu closed her eyes, her back landing.

The long-staple cotton bedding was extraordinarily soft, carrying the fresh scent of recently washed detergent.

“…Can I turn on the light?” Meng Fuyuan asked in a low voice.

Chen Qingwu nodded.

The pale yellow lamplight seemed like moonlight, carrying a flowing water-like tranquility.

Meng Fuyuan sat on the edge of the bed, one hand propped beside her, turning his head to observe her.

Because he wasn’t wearing glasses, his gaze made her feel a sharper danger, as if this gaze were a scalpel precisely dissecting her desire.

Chen Qingwu was about to be unable to bear it. Just as she was about to raise her arm to cover her face, Meng Fuyuan leaned down.

Breath fell on the side of her neck, then meandered to her collarbone.

“Qingwu…” Meng Fuyuan’s voice was extremely low. “I’m afraid I’ll lose my reason… When you can’t accept it anymore, remember to push me away.”

Chen Qingwu’s eyes blinked wildly a few times. “…Mm.”

The bedding was different from last time—the blue of the deep sea at night—giving her a dizzying, seasick-like sensation.

A moment of slight coolness—the neckline of her sweater was pulled open, exposing her shoulder.

Chen Qingwu opened her eyes, slightly moving aside the arm blocking her view to observe Meng Fuyuan.

His deep, dark gaze was fixedly watching.

She knew what he was looking at. White, a very conventional style, with a bit of decorative lace that at least broke the monotony.

She didn’t know why she had the embarrassment of a docile herbivore pretending to be a fierce beast being exposed.

Fortunately, Meng Fuyuan seemed unaware. He lowered his head, that breath like boiling steam brushing across her skin.

When jumping out from above the cup’s rim, Chen Qingwu only felt her heart also suddenly jumped.

The next instant, Meng Fuyuan’s action made her suddenly bite her lip, holding back from making a hissing sound, also restraining the impulse to curl her body.

She turned her head away, deliberately not letting her gaze move downward, not daring to look, even less knowing whether she should grab the bedsheet beside her or embrace his head.

Was it still snowing outside? She didn’t know.

The whooshing wind outside gave the illusion that rain was falling.

As if in a secluded valley, rainwater was eroding the red crabapples remaining on the treetops after White Dew season.

Clearly only to this degree, yet Chen Qingwu already felt her heart like an inflated balloon, constantly on the verge of bursting.

Not afraid at all, even somewhat anticipating, wanting to know under the premise that objective conditions couldn’t reach the final step, just how far Meng Fuyuan would ultimately go.

So she never called a halt.

Meng Fuyuan exhaled deeply.

Propping his body up slightly, he extended his arm and gathered Chen Qingwu into his embrace.

His mood too urgent, forcing him to order himself to pause for now.

Chen Qingwu suddenly felt a tremor because her skin with no barrier was pressed against his shirt’s somewhat rough and slightly cool fabric.

She couldn’t distinguish clearly whether the violently beating heart at this moment belonged to him or her.

Meng Fuyuan steadied his breathing, turned his head, lightly pressed her chin, and kissed her again.

Chen Qingwu extended her arm, circled past his shoulder, and responded enthusiastically.

The phone suddenly began to vibrate.

Continuing for many seconds, impossible to ignore.

Chen Qingwu irritably reached out and pulled her phone from her pants pocket.

Meng Qiran’s call.

She directly declined it.

However, several seconds later, that call came again.

Chen Qingwu looked at Meng Fuyuan. “…Should I answer?”

“Mm.”

Chen Qingwu answered, turned on speakerphone, and placed it beside her pillow.

“Wuwu, have you gone back?”

“No… just wandering around.”

“Can you come to the back courtyard? I have something to tell you.”

The lamplight was dim. Chen Qingwu raised her head to look at Meng Fuyuan’s face—very calm, with no excess expression.

If you didn’t look carefully, it was hard to discern the somewhat murderous exasperation in that gaze.

“…What is it? Can we talk about it later?” With an inexplicable mischievous heart, Chen Qingwu raised her hand, fingers moving down along the buttons of Meng Fuyuan’s shirt, counting them one by one.

Meng Qiran: “It’s a bit urgent. It won’t take much of your time.”

“Can’t you say it over the phone?” Her fingertip landed on the lowest button. At the same time, Chen Qingwu lifted her eyelids and met Meng Fuyuan’s gaze.

His eyes were deep and dark, like the deep sea and dark night.

“The phone isn’t very convenient.” Meng Qiran’s tone carried some insistence.

“Then…” Chen Qingwu’s finger continued downward.

Meng Fuyuan immediately reached out, intending to catch her hand to stop her, but was still a step too late. The moment of covering and grasping—he immediately narrowed his eyes.

“Can you give me five… ten minutes?” Chen Qingwu saw Meng Fuyuan’s Adam’s apple roll, as if swallowing down a muffled sound.

She smiled, silently asking him: Is ten minutes enough?

Meng Fuyuan’s lips pressed into a line, his expression even tighter.

On the phone, Meng Qiran said, “Okay. See you in ten minutes then.”

The call disconnected.

Chen Qingwu’s free hand climbed onto Meng Fuyuan’s shoulder, her head tilting to lean close to his ear.

That voice light as breath carried laughter like the song of a siren: “You’ve waited for me so long—you’ve worked hard. Should I reward you?”

Meng Fuyuan had always been rigorous and disciplined.

Even in imagination, he couldn’t allow himself indulgence, fearing it would be a kind of desecration.

Yet what hadn’t happened even in imagination was now unfolding.

This was his room.

For so many years, the study and bedroom were his absolute exclusive territory. Only here would he abandon his usual scrutiny and vigilance, letting fatigue settle slightly.

He rested here, read, smoked… sometimes just purely staying alone doing nothing.

Yet at this moment, in this space that belonged exclusively to him, he was holding Chen Qingwu’s hand, teaching her hand-by-hand how to please him. And he had to restrain himself with all his might to keep everything from ending too quickly.

At a certain instant, Meng Fuyuan was in a trance, feeling he had gone mad, because only when mad would he have such an exquisite, incredible dream.

He seemed to be committing blasphemy.

Wind howled outside the window.

Everything was a vast whiteness.

Like a sudden downpour on a violent midsummer afternoon, the steaming water vapor in the air carried heat, mixed with the earthy scent of plants and trees, making one’s mind hazy, unable to distinguish dream from waking.

Meng Fuyuan cleaned up the aftermath.

In the bathroom sink with rushing water, he pulled Chen Qingwu’s hand over to wash it, like the seven-step handwashing method for preventing infection contact, so meticulous that he didn’t even miss the spaces between fingers.

Chen Qingwu kept her head lowered throughout, as if wanting to find a crack in the ground to crawl into.

She really admired Meng Fuyuan—he could switch states freely. At this moment, he seemed to have transformed back into that proper, steady, meticulous elder brother who would help his disheveled younger sister wash her hands.

On her ring finger still wore that silver tail ring.

The size wasn’t quite right—slightly too large.

Meng Fuyuan lifted her hand and kissed her ring finger. “What should I say about you? If you’re embarrassed, why did you provoke me just now?”

“Mind your own business…”

Meng Fuyuan laughed once.

He pulled out tissues to wipe the water from her hands, then arranged her hair and collar. “I’ll go down with you.”

“Make it public now?”

“Up to you.”

“…Then at least change your clothes first.”

Meng Fuyuan glanced in the mirror—that shirt was completely disheveled. “Indeed.”

Chen Qingwu also glanced, then immediately looked away. “…You shower first. I’ll go down and see what Qiran wants.”

Meng Fuyuan nodded with a smile.

Chen Qingwu examined herself in the mirror, confirming there were no problems.

Just as she was preparing to walk out of the bathroom door, she suddenly stopped, stood on tiptoe, and threw herself into Meng Fuyuan’s embrace.

“…Boyfriend, hold me for a moment.”