When people relax, they tend to indulge, and Wei Zhi is no exception. Holding her bowl, she enthusiastically finished off the remaining rice in the pot. It wasn’t that much, perhaps about two bowls, but as she scraped the bottom with the spoon, Shan Chong couldn’t help but comment from the side, “Just a reminder, you didn’t eat that much at dinner, not absolutely nothing.”
Wei Zhi looked up at him from behind the rice cooker.
With a blank expression, the man added, “It even looked like you threw some up.”
Wei Zhi pouted, “Can’t I even enjoy my meal?”
Shan Chong glanced at the rice cooker she had emptied and had no idea what she was feeling wronged about—there wasn’t a single grain of rice left, so clean that it could be put away after just a rinse.
He let go of the rice cooker.
It fell back to the countertop with a “thud.” Without warning, Shan Chong hooked his finger under her chin, tugging at the soft flesh beneath it. Wei Zhi’s already sharp chin suddenly had a little extra softness, thanks to his playful tug.
“Look at this bit of fat,” he remarked.
She lifted her face, now full and warm after the meal, with a rosy complexion that made her glare at him with undeniable spirit.
Compared to other eye shapes, her round eyes always gave the impression of being full of energy, especially with her long, thick eyelashes fluttering like little fans.
Although she was in her twenties, she had the face of someone still in her late teens. Staring him down just over a meal as if ready to pounce if he said one wrong word made her look adorably fierce.
Shan Chong, unfazed, withdrew his hand. “It’s fine.”
Wei Zhi was puzzled. “What?”
“How about another bowl of soup?” he offered. “There’s still half a chicken leg left.”
“You just accused me of eating too much, and now you want to stuff me?”
Shan Chong lazily glanced at her, his tone indifferent, “Well, I just realized you could probably handle a bit more. Are you eating or not? If not, I’ll start washing the dishes.”
Wei Zhi took the pears that Ms. Yang had brought over from the fridge, washed and sliced them, and then leaned against the sink to watch Shan Chong wash the dishes while she ate.
Feeling a bit full, she casually offered a slice of pear near his mouth, watching him take it with a sideways glance. After a brief silence, she asked, “Can you hang the laundry that’s in the washing machine?”
Shan Chong placed the clean dish on the rack and turned to look at her expressionlessly.
“The clothesline is broken. I can’t reach it,” Wei Zhi explained.
The man dried his hands, walked out to the balcony, and opened the cabinet beside the washing machine. From the compartment where they kept laundry detergent, he pulled out a small white remote, pressed a button, and the clothesline lowered automatically.
Shoving the remote back into her hand, he remarked coldly, “I’m frugal, not poor. I’ve seen an automatic clothesline before.”
He paused for a moment.
“Even if I hadn’t, I’d at least consider what the retractable rod above it was for.”
Face darkening, Wei Zhi tossed the remote back into the cabinet and angrily squatted down to pull out the freshly washed clothes. While she hung the clothes, Shan Chong went to take a shower.
When he emerged, now wearing a black t-shirt, Wei Zhi was just finishing pulling out the last item from the washing machine. As she looked up, she saw him standing not far away, arms crossed, watching her. Water dripped from his hair, trailing down his long neck to his collarbone.
She froze with the laundry in her hands, her expression growing a bit ambiguous. “You do know that, no matter what, you should be sleeping on the couch, right?”
Shan Chong casually responded, “Oh,” then added, “I just wanted to ask where the hairdryer is.”
Wei Zhi threw the shirt in her hands with a dramatic flair and marched over to him, stepping up like a crab. Once she was close enough, she hooked her arms around his neck and pulled him down—
and kissed him.
Having just finished her meal, she still had a fruit candy in her mouth, its sweet honeydew melon flavor filling the kiss. Shan Chong, initially just tasting it, found it quite satisfactory and deepened the kiss.
His large hand settled on her waist.
After giving it a gentle squeeze, he felt she could still afford to eat as much as she liked. As he pondered this, he lifted her onto the back of the couch.
As their tongues intertwined, his hands began to roam.
Wei Zhi responded by clamping her knees around his hand.
He could feel the soft, cool texture of her thighs pressing against his palm and the back of his hand. With a lazy gaze, he paused, not bothering to free himself from the gentle hold. Instead, he withdrew his tongue from her lips, tilted his head, and looked at her.
“Don’t want to?” he asked.
He was so close that his thin lips brushed against her nose as he spoke.
Though it was phrased as a question, the deep, magnetic voice laced with temptation was enough to make anyone’s head spin. Even knowing he was up to no good, she couldn’t help but want to fall into the sweet trap he was setting.
Wei Zhi nuzzled her nose against his, pouting, “I haven’t showered.”
“Last time, you hadn’t showered either,” Shan Chong replied, somewhat puzzled. “Didn’t I hold back?”
Though it was true, being reminded so bluntly made her blush furiously. She raised her hand to cover his mouth, her earlobes turning so red they seemed ready to drip blood.
He didn’t dodge. Her hand, still soft, carried the fresh scent of the laundry detergent she had used earlier. He didn’t know which brand she used, but the pink detergent had a hint of ice cream fragrance to it…
Sweet and pleasant.
He kissed her palm.
Wei Zhi pushed against his shoulders, jumped off the couch, and announced she was going to take a shower. Pointing to the last piece of laundry she hadn’t hung, she instructed him to hang it before fleeing to the bathroom—
making sure to lock the door behind her.
Feeling a flush of heat, her temples began to throb.
Shan Chong, watching her retreating figure, shook his head with a wry smile. As he looked at the blurred silhouette behind the bathroom glass, he finally sighed and said nothing. With a resigned expression, he picked up the jeans she had thrown on the floor and hung them up to dry.
As he hung the jeans, he recalled the first time she caught him after a shower. He had come out wearing just a pair of jeans, and she had stared at him for a long time… Standing on the balcony, he chuckled to himself.
He was just about to arrange the couch for the night when the bathroom door creaked open. The girl peeked her head out, face flushed, and asked, “Can you grab me a towel from the cabinet?”
He was in the middle of laying out the couch.
One hand resting on the couch’s back, he looked up and met her gaze across the living room. A smile tugged at his lips.
…
In the bathroom, a freshly laundered white towel lay casually tossed on the sink.
Next to the sink, Wei Zhi sat with one shirt button undone, the shirt’s hem, usually tucked into her skirt, now hanging loose and barely covering her thighs.
A hint of white fabric peeked out from underneath.
The girl’s feet, clad in white socks, dangled in the air, her toes brushing against his sides. As his kiss deepened, she let out a soft “mmph,” her feet curling around his waist, pulling him closer.
The air grew thick with a palpable tension.
If she had had any doubts before, after tonight’s thrilling moments, Wei Zhi felt as though they had already visited the civil registry office—anything they did now would be perfectly legal.
But the way he teased her made her feel a bit overwhelmed. When his warm hands touched her skin, she instinctively squirmed, brushing her lips against his damp ones as she teased, “I asked you to bring me a towel, and what are you up to?”
His hands, however, moved elsewhere.
She immediately fell silent, wrapping her arms around his neck, whimpering like a small animal as she buried herself in his chest, her nose nuzzling against his neck in a pleading gesture.
“Oh, just bringing you a towel?” Shan Chong’s actions remained deliberate and unhurried as he looked up, his gaze drifting to the brass towel rack above her head—a neatly folded, checkered towel hung there.
“What’s that behind you?” he asked.
Wei Zhi didn’t answer him, only pressing her face deeper into his neck, refusing to speak.
The bathroom light was too bright.
Suddenly, she felt a wave of embarrassment.
“Could… could you turn off the light?”
“Too bright?”
“Yes,” she mumbled, her face still buried in his neck, inhaling the scent of him.
Freshly showered, his body smelled of the soap she kept in the bathroom, a soap she had never actually used, leaving it there purely for its fragrance…
A clean, comforting scent.
After hearing her complaint about the bright bathroom lights, he removed his t-shirt.
Then, he carried Wei Zhi into the shower area.
The shower light was dimmer compared to the vanity lights outside.
“How about now?” he asked.
She didn’t respond.
When their skin touched, they both let out a silent sigh, momentarily forgetting everything…
The intimate contact released dopamine in her brain, likely more than a 3,000-meter run around the school track would.
This might be the most fundamental scientific principle behind the balance of yin and yang in humans.
Shan Chong reached up to turn on the shower. Hot water cascaded down, and the small shower room grew increasingly warm. As the steam enveloped them, Wei Zhi thought about the last time they were in the gym together and the things he had done—
The difference this time was that she didn’t have any clothes left to get wet.
The hot water drenched her, soaking the last bit of fabric on her body. As Shan Chong reached to adjust the showerhead, she felt her hands wrap around his waist, her wet face pressing against his chest.
“We’re just showering,” she said, her voice not as soft as usual, carrying a hint of huskiness. “No need to move away.”
She looked up as she spoke.
Her chin, slightly fuller recently, rested against his firm chest. Through the steam, her dark eyes looked up at him, wet and glistening. “Just take it off.”
The moment she spoke, she felt the man’s hand, which had been holding her waist, tense up.
For a while, the only sound in the small shower stall was the rushing water. Her breathing was as soft as a cat’s, while he looked down at her, expressionless.
After what felt like an eternity, Shan Chong’s lips twitched. He reached out, brushing away the wet hair that clung to her face. “Do you know what you’re saying?”
Wei Zhi didn’t have a chance to nod or shake her head.
Before she could respond, he added, “It doesn’t matter if you do or don’t, you’ve already said it.” Before she could react, he pressed her against the shower wall.
The cold tiles made her gasp in surprise, but the next second, his body heat pressed against her back, almost burning her…
The white steam blurred everything in the shower.
Occasionally, there were faint sounds of her weak protests and the man’s increasingly heavy breathing.
About ten minutes later, the bathroom door opened, and several wet pieces of cloth were tossed out. A pale hand reached out, brushing against the arm of the man standing at the door…
But before she could react, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into the shower.
A clear handprint was left on the fogged-up glass wall—
Facing away from him, unable to see behind her, all her other senses heightened as her vision failed…
The temperature kept rising, and the steam soon blurred the mirror again.
He leaned in, kissed her ear, and rubbed his lips against her neck.
She flinched.
“What are you dodging for?” His eyes were dark, bottomless. “Do you want to go out?”
She shook her head.
Then nodded.
When he pressed closer, she turned around, wrapped her arms around him, and hesitated before saying, “This is all so sudden.”
Shan Chong held her waist. “Hmm?”
Wei Zhi: “I don’t even know how things ended up like this—”
Shan Chong: “Oh.”
Wei Zhi: “So, did you notice something seems to be missing?”
Shan Chong looked down at her, ready to ask what was missing, but the words caught in his throat as he realized what she meant. His lips tightened, and he called her name, asking if she did it on purpose.
If she were that calculating, he would already have grandchildren by now.
She shook her head earnestly and sighed, leaning into his chest. Shan Chong wanted to ask her why she was sighing—after all, he was the one who had just taken care of her, and now he was the one about to explode with frustration—
After a moment, he pulled her closer. “Maybe it’s fate.”
Wei Zhi: “Huh?”
Shan Chong looked serious. “A fortune teller once said I’d have a child by the time I was thirty to run errands for me.”
Wei Zhi: “…”
She was dazed for a few seconds before realizing what he meant. She raised her hand and slapped him lightly, indicating that he should behave normally and not assume that just because they hadn’t been separated by external forces, he could get away with things.
Of course, Shan Chong couldn’t.
He was just joking around.
At this point, there was nothing to do but accept the situation with a helpless smile. He turned her around and pressed her against the shower wall again, and when she looked back at him in confusion, he lowered her waist slightly.
…
That shower lasted almost an hour.
When they finally emerged, Shan Chong carried Wei Zhi out in his arms.
Her fingers were wrinkled from being soaked, and she pinched him with her nearly numb hand. “Are you a devil?”
Shan Chong, having had his fill, was now relaxed and lazy. He wrapped her in the towel he had prepared earlier (which finally came in handy), carried her to the bedroom, carefully dried her off, and reached to pull her legs apart—
She was thoroughly alarmed.
The moment his hand touched her, she shrank back, wrapping herself in the towel.
He raised an eyebrow. “What are you hiding for? I just want to take a look.”
Her face flushed red, burning hot.
“Look at what?”
She hadn’t realized until now that her waist and legs ached, the inside of her thighs stung—he had been rough. She had caught a glimpse of the handprints he had left on her waist in the shower, all red and alarming…
Damn.
Wasn’t skiing supposed to be a leg workout?
This guy had such a strong grip!
She gingerly touched the inside of her thigh, and as soon as she made contact, she hissed in pain and quickly pulled her hand back. Grabbing a pillow, she whacked him in the face. “It’s raw! I told you earlier to wait—”
Shan Chong caught the pillow, helplessly took her makeshift weapon, tossed it aside, and pulled her close, kissing the corner of her eye, which was still brimming with anger. “Could that wait? Wouldn’t it have hurt even more?”
She kicked him.
Her soft foot landed on his abdomen.
Feeling that it had a nice texture underfoot, she paused for a few seconds, suddenly feeling a sense of triumph, like she was on top of the world. She couldn’t resist lightly stomping on him a couple more times…
Until he grabbed her ankle. He raised an eyebrow, pulled her leg aside, and glanced down at her. As she screamed and tried to cover up, he gave her a calm look, as if to say, “What’s the point? We’ve already done everything.”
He didn’t pull her hand away, just glanced at her thigh. It was a bit red but not raw.
He got off the bed and dressed, and when he returned, Wei Zhi quickly put on her underwear and nightgown. Now she lay on the bed, watching him warily.
She had found a tube of antibiotic ointment from somewhere, and as she squeezed it onto her fingertip, he stood by the bed, looking at her. He paused, then said expressionlessly, “What are you looking at? Apply the ointment.”
“…Can’t you be a little gentler? Didn’t that winter camp give you any insight? Where did that gentle soul go, the one who could give a compliment for just clearing a pole?”
She grumbled, adjusting the hem of her nightgown.
Then she stopped, biting her lip as she looked up at him.
Her lips, already reddened from his bites, now looked like a blooming rose. She grabbed the hem of her nightgown, pulling it up slightly, the fabric wrinkling in her hands as it rose just above her knees.
He watched her, his gaze darkening, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
Wei Zhi noticed the shift in his gaze and felt something was off.
She looked at him warily. “What now?”
He climbed back onto the bed, pulled her into his lap, and pushed aside her hand that was trying to cover up. With a wooden expression, he started applying the ointment—his hands were still strong, making her squeal in pain with every rub, and she twisted in his lap in protest.
The fire that had just died down almost flared up again.
Finally, unable to stand it, he pinned her waist down and gave her a warning slap. “Move again, and we’ll go another round.”
Wei Zhi was stunned.
She looked back at him, and he didn’t seem to be joking.
“What do you mean ‘another round’? Aren’t you tired?” She asked, trembling, and then quickly added, “Forget it, I don’t care if you’re tired or not, I’m exhausted. If we go again, I won’t be able to walk tomorrow. Where else could you even—”
He lowered his eyes, his gaze briefly lingering on her lips.
She felt it.
Immediately, she pursed her lips, cuddling into his chest, letting him finish applying the ointment. She didn’t make a sound, holding back her cries, sweating profusely, and rubbing against him in frustration.
Once Shan Chong had applied the ointment, he threw the tube aside and got off the bed to wash his hands.
When he returned, he lifted the blanket and wrapped his arms around her, settling in beside her.
No one bothered discussing who should sleep on the couch anymore. After all, they had just taken a bath together—was there any need to pretend?
Wei Zhi yawned. She had initially been lying with her back to the man, but she couldn’t resist turning over. Despite feeling drowsy, her mind was still racing with thoughts about everything that had just happened.
She was so shocked by it all that she couldn’t fall asleep.
Her hand unconsciously toyed with the edge of his T-shirt collar. Determined to stay awake, she forced her eyes open and started chatting, asking what they would do after returning to Chongli, whether they could stay until the New Year—it would be quite a long time.
“Want me to teach you how to ride the kicker?” he asked. With one hand gently patting her back, he soothed her like she was a little child. The coach who charged six thousand yuan an hour was now well-fed and content, speaking in a relaxed, agreeable tone.
Wei Zhi lifted her head from his chest. “I can ride the kicker?”
“The small ones, yes,” he replied. “Before the New Year, I think I can get you to land a straight jump and a grab, maybe even a frontside 180 or backside 180 without much trouble.”
Wei Zhi paused for a moment before asking, “Just to make sure I’m not misreading the mood here, I’ll ask you straight—does this mean you’d agree to anything I ask for right now?”
Shan Chong thought about it and realized that seemed to be the case. He made a soft, affirming sound from deep in his throat.
Wei Zhi: “Oh.”
Wei Zhi: “…I want to learn carving, and maybe get a feel for the snow.”
Wei Zhi: “Can you teach me?”
Shan Chong: “…”
For a couple of seconds, there was dead silence in the room.
After a moment, just when Wei Zhi was starting to feel anxious, she heard him speak. The words squeezed out through gritted teeth, came out cold and biting—
“You haven’t changed, have you?”