Before long, Meng Fuyuan came over with a can of chilled beer, popped it open, and handed it to Chen Qingwu.

Meng Fuyuan watched her take a sip and asked: “Cold enough?”

Chen Qingwu thought he wanted some and handed the beer over.

However, Meng Fuyuan caught her wrist, took the can from her hand, reached out to set it on the bedside table, then withdrew his hand and gently lifted her chin to kiss her.

The slightly bitter taste, after being shared, gradually became imperceptible.

Everything earlier had been lengthy enough, and somewhat messy.

Chen Qingwu found her nightgown and put it on, then walked to the bathroom to shower.

Meng Fuyuan saw the glass sliding door close and reached for the cigarette pack nearby, took one out and lit it.

“Creak.”

The door was pushed open a crack, and Chen Qingwu poked half her head out.

Meng Fuyuan looked over, “What’s wrong? Missing something?”

Chen Qingwu stared at him, her gaze issuing an invitation.

One second, two seconds…

Ten seconds.

Meng Fuyuan ultimately took no action. He lifted his eyelids and said: “You shower properly.”

Hearing the door close, Meng Fuyuan exhaled a long stream of smoke.

Physical reactions don’t lie, and this was merely imagining that scenario.

It was her first time—she must be somewhat uncomfortable. He didn’t dare overestimate his initial intention not to hurt her.

After Chen Qingwu finished showering, only then did Meng Fuyuan stub out his cigarette and walk into the bathroom.

When he came out of the bathroom, he saw Chen Qingwu sitting at the foot of the bed, using a small spoon to eat the durian mille-feuille they’d bought that afternoon.

“Qingwu, you know I don’t allow people to eat in my bed.”

“I know. Qiran mentioned it.”

Meng Fuyuan sat down beside Chen Qingwu.

Chen Qingwu scooped a spoonful of cake and brought it to Meng Fuyuan’s lips.

Meng Fuyuan paused for a moment, then naturally opened his mouth and took a bite.

As if that rule of his didn’t exist.

Meng Fuyuan frowned slightly, “I have to say…”

“Mm?”

“This particular preference of yours, I may not be able to accommodate.”

Chen Qingwu smiled and scooped another spoonful.

Meng Fuyuan still accepted it.

On the third spoonful, he pushed it away with his hand, “Sorry. No matter how much I like you, I can’t eat a third bite.”

Chen Qingwu laughed heartily.

“Are you hungry?” Meng Fuyuan reached out to smooth the long hair on her shoulder.

“A little. It’s okay. I just get hungry quickly. When working, I often eat late-night snacks too.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“Hm?”

“Then before, I would have had more reasons to come find you.”

Chen Qingwu smiled.

After finishing the cake and both brushing their teeth, the two returned to bed and lay down.

The lights were already off. They nestled in the darkness, chatting, and unconsciously began kissing again.

It was quite strange—they had just gotten together, yet it felt like they’d been passionately in love for many years.

Not knowing what time it was, and no one caring, they kissed, measuring skin with fingertips, lengthy and tireless. Mindful of her condition, they didn’t proceed to the final step. She ran aground on his fingertips, then reciprocated equally.

After cleaning up again and lying down, they still were reluctant to sleep, until fatigue descended and they naturally sank into slumber.

The next day, Chen Qingwu slept until she naturally woke.

Opening her eyes to find no one beside her, she climbed out of bed, yawning as she walked out of the bedroom, and saw a busy figure in the kitchen.

The indoor heating was sufficient. Meng Fuyuan wore only a thin deep gray sweater, his shoulders broad and flat, making one feel that embracing him from behind would definitely bring a great sense of security.

Chen Qingwu tiptoed closer.

Just as she was about to reach out, Meng Fuyuan spoke: “I heard your footsteps.”

“You could pretend you didn’t hear.”

“Okay. Then please proceed.”

Chen Qingwu laughed and hugged him from behind, “What are we eating today?”

“Seafood risotto for lunch. For dinner, I’m preparing stir-fried crab typhoon shelter style, pan-fried cod, mushroom chicken soup…” Meng Fuyuan turned to look back, “You can also order dishes.”

“I’ll eat whatever you make. Need my help?”

“As you wish.”

After Chen Qingwu washed up in the master bedroom and changed clothes, she returned to the kitchen.

Rolling up her sleeves, she stood shoulder to shoulder with Meng Fuyuan at the sink, following his instructions to help rinse and soak the dried goods that would be used for tonight’s soup.

After eating lunch and taking a short rest, at four in the afternoon, they began preparing the New Year’s Eve dinner.

Chen Qingwu continued to assist from the side, doing some supporting work.

Time was long and quiet. The two took their time, chatting while preparing.

“I remember during those years you were in grad school, you didn’t come home for New Year’s.”

Meng Fuyuan nodded.

“Did you spend it alone?”

“One year I went to Mai Xunwen’s house. There were many international students, and gatherings too, but I left after half an hour.”

“Why? Thought they were too noisy?”

“Not really. Just couldn’t quite fit in. Maybe the school I attended had too strong an engineering atmosphere.”

“I also couldn’t really connect with other international students.” Chen Qingwu said with a smile, “Our major was too demanding—busier than working under Teacher Zhai Jingtang. Plus I always had this anxious feeling of being chased by something, like if I didn’t hurry and learn everything, one day my dad would get unhappy and cut off my funding and force me to return home. And also, in the arts field, talent is most important. The higher you climb, the more you discover there are countless people more excellent than yourself. If you’re not diligent, they’ll leave you even further behind.”

“In my eyes, you’re already very excellent—able to turn a hobby into a career and already establish a foothold.” Meng Fuyuan said, “You push yourself too hard sometimes.”

“When it comes to driving oneself, I still bow down to you.” Chen Qingwu glanced at Meng Fuyuan amidst the sound of running water and said with a smile, “Then let’s learn together how to start enjoying life.”

Warm tides surged in his heart. Meng Fuyuan said in a low voice, “Okay.”

Around seven-thirty, all the dishes were brought to the table.

Meng Fuyuan opened a bottle of white wine.

The two raised their glasses and clinked them across that bunch of pale purple lisianthus that had bloomed even fuller after being revived overnight.

“Happy New Year, Yuan-gege.”

Meng Fuyuan laughed and cooperatively said: “Happy New Year, Qingwu-meimei.”

“Happy New Year, boyfriend.”

“Happy New Year, girlfriend.”

Chen Qingwu tilted her head, “Happy New Year, husband.”

Chen Qingwu said with a smile: “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Eat your food.” Meng Fuyuan kept his face composed.

Chen Qingwu had long seen through him—when he didn’t know how to respond, he had this very serious expression.

A New Year’s Eve dinner for just two people, yet it didn’t feel lonely at all—rather, there was a rare sense of peace and quiet.

In past years, both families celebrated together with parents and grandparents. Lively as it was, there were always uncomfortable aspects.

“I suddenly remembered something.”

“What?” Meng Fuyuan looked up.

“When you and Qiran competed for the study, what exactly did you compete in?”

Meng Fuyuan hesitated somewhat, “I’m afraid saying it will make you sad.”

“I won’t be. I’ve been curious for a long time.”

Only then did Meng Fuyuan speak.

At that time, Meng Fuyuan was twenty-one and Meng Qiran was fifteen.

He was six years older than his younger brother. Whether competing in physical strength, mental capacity, or knowledge reserves, it would ultimately be an unfair victory, so he gave Meng Qiran the right to decide the competition content.

Meng Qiran chose a competition he thought he had a one hundred percent chance of winning: listing Chen Qingwu’s hobbies and habits—whoever listed more would win.

In the end, Meng Fuyuan won by a narrow margin of two points.

Probably because he took care of his younger siblings quite a bit back then, some things he didn’t deliberately try to remember, but naturally knew.

“The two points I won by were your favorite flower and your favorite author. Qiran wasn’t very convinced at the time and went to confirm with you—remember?”

Chen Qingwu thought for a moment, “…Maybe, I don’t remember very clearly.”

Meng Fuyuan looked at her, as if confirming whether she would feel disappointed because of this.

Chen Qingwu smiled, “It’s okay. No wonder he never wanted to tell me—he was probably afraid I’d be unhappy.”

A competition that theoretically should have been a definite win, yet he lost. Apart from not being attentive enough, there was no other explanation. And if it had been her at that time, she could have listed a hundred of Meng Qiran’s preferences and habits without repetition.

“Alright, let’s not mention him anymore.” Meng Fuyuan picked up a piece of stir-fried crab and put it in Chen Qingwu’s bowl, “Try this.”

The crab was already cut open, making it easy to eat.

Chen Qingwu tasted a bite and immediately gave a thumbs up, “Did you really just learn this from a tutorial? That’s amazing!”

Meng Fuyuan said: “You flatter me.”

Chen Qingwu looked thoughtful, “No wonder, you just have strong learning ability, so everything the first time…”

“Qingwu.” Meng Fuyuan again showed an expression of being unable to cope.

Chen Qingwu couldn’t stop laughing.

With a table full of dishes like this, naturally they couldn’t finish everything. The leftovers were covered with plastic wrap and put in the refrigerator—getting up tomorrow morning, they could also enjoy the auspicious “surplus year after year.”

After the dishwasher started, Meng Fuyuan cleaned the counter, washed his hands, and returned to the living room.

The Bluetooth speaker was connected and playing music.

Chen Qingwu sat on the carpet in front of the sofa, peeling an orange.

She wore a white sweater with sleeves that were a bit too long, slightly covering her palms, giving her a fluffy appearance overall.

“Not watching TV?”

“Actually, I’ve never liked watching the Spring Festival Gala since I was little—I feel it drains my emotions. For someone like me, happiness is also a resource. After it’s consumed, I need to accumulate it for a while before it regenerates.” Chen Qingwu suddenly turned her head, “But it seems that being with you, this resource regenerates endlessly.”

Meng Fuyuan said with a smile: “My honor.”

He sat down on the sofa beside her and reached out to take the orange she hadn’t even half-peeled yet.

Chen Qingwu tilted her head to watch him. For her, peeling an orange was somewhat awkward, but for Meng Fuyuan it was methodical and organized. She felt these hands of his would also be suitable for being a surgeon.

Meng Fuyuan handed the peeled orange to Chen Qingwu.

“Aren’t you eating?” Chen Qingwu broke off a segment and put it in her mouth.

Meng Fuyuan shook his head, “Don’t want to right now.”

Chen Qingwu made a soft “tss” sound.

“Sour?”

Chen Qingwu nodded, bracing herself on the sofa edge, suddenly stood up and leaned close to his lips. Seeing his profound eyes, she suddenly stopped her movement, her breathing also becoming chaotic.

Meng Fuyuan looked up, his voice slightly hoarse, “…Let me taste.”

His palm closed around her, holding her through the sweater.

How could people in passionate love be satisfied with just the exchange of breath? His arm circled around her back, lifted her up, and walked toward the bedroom.

The lights weren’t on—only the light from the living room coming through the doorway.

Chen Qingwu responded to Meng Fuyuan’s kiss, heard him ask in a low voice “is it okay,” and she nodded silently.

Darkness was the breeding ground for indulgence. Because they couldn’t see clearly, they became bolder, like playing a game challenging their sense of shame.

They were each other’s opponents and also the judges.

Longer than the night itself, after finishing twice, time was about to point to midnight.

After a hasty wash, Chen Qingwu put on a robe and, holding Meng Fuyuan’s hand, went to the balcony.

The big city didn’t allow fireworks, but the brilliant night view was already beautiful enough.

Chen Qingwu leaned on the railing, squinting her eyes against the wind, “I’m so happy today.”

Meng Fuyuan gazed at her.

“In the past, I actually didn’t have a clear vision of the future.” Chen Qingwu turned to look at him, “But today I know roughly what kind of future I want.”

Warmth rose in Meng Fuyuan’s chest, “Thank you for such high praise of me.”

Chen Qingwu was about to speak when she suddenly heard people downstairs counting down.

Ten, nine, eight, seven…

Three, two, one.

“Happy New Year.”

They said simultaneously, then laughed at the same time.

This night was lovers’ eyes.

The next morning, as soon as Chen Qingwu opened her eyes, she was pulled into Meng Fuyuan’s arms.

His voice still carried some hoarseness from not being fully awake, “Want to go out and play?”

“Where to?”

Meng Fuyuan thought for a moment, “That boutique hotel from last time?”

Never underestimate Meng Fuyuan’s action capacity.

He grabbed his phone, searched for the hotel on a travel app, clicked in to look—the most expensive room type still had one available. He immediately placed the order without hesitation.

Chen Qingwu said with a smile: “What a pity, only one room left.”

Meng Fuyuan responded to her teasing with action.

After eating lunch, the two packed up their things and left.

All along the way, there were very few cars on the highway.

Exiting the highway toll station and driving toward the town, everything was a withered grayish-white, but in the distance they could see a few persimmons still hanging on trees in the mountains, like burning embers.

The town itself was lively. Today was the first day of the new year, and many households went out to the mountains to worship ancestors and sweep graves. From time to time, a string of firecrackers would explode across the sky.

In front of residences along the street, red paper confetti covered the ground. Looking from afar, it was the same color as the trumpet creeper flowers they’d seen that night.

In this unfamiliar small town, they unexpectedly found some of the New Year’s atmosphere from their childhood.

The two arrived at the hotel and checked in.

The front desk staff handed over the room card. Chen Qingwu glanced at it and immediately smiled.

She raised the room card and said to Meng Fuyuan: “525.”

Just that coincidental.

Room 525 had the exact same layout as last time, though the coffee table held some New Year candy sent by the hotel, and the bed runner had been seasonally changed to a red pattern style, creating quite a festive holiday atmosphere.

After setting down their things, the two went out.

The daylight was somewhat thin, shining on them in a pale gold color.

First day of the new year—naturally all the shops hadn’t started business yet.

But they didn’t feel disappointed, because with each other’s company, what they did was secondary.

Returning to the hotel, the two went to the tea room, took tea pots and tea leaves themselves, drinking and chatting casually, watching the sun set in the west and the daylight gradually darken.

This day ended just that ordinarily.

After eating dinner at the hotel restaurant, the two returned to their room.

Chen Qingwu immediately rushed to the balcony.

Not far away, the lights of that courtyard were already lit, rippling reflections in the water like floating fishing lights one by one.

Behind her, Meng Fuyuan’s footsteps approached.

He propped one arm on the railing but didn’t look at the scenery—only observed her.

The confrontation that occurred here last time was still vivid in his mind.

“Qingwu.”

Chen Qingwu turned her head.

Meng Fuyuan discovered he would still get nervous, “Last time here… I nearly overstepped.” He said honestly.

“Really?”

“…Mm.”

Chen Qingwu walked a step closer to him, stood on tiptoe, touched his lips lightly, “Like this?”

“More than that.” Meng Fuyuan’s palm pressed on her back, making her tilt her head up.

Each time his gaze was exceptionally deep, as if wanting to look through her eyes into the depths of her heart. She couldn’t withstand this kind of gaze and took the initiative to kiss him, then asked, “…Then like this?”

In the gap between breaths, he said hoarsely, “More than that.”

Meng Fuyuan held her, and the two kissed while returning to the room, their steps stumbling, nearly tripping over the coffee table.

Chen Qingwu fell backward. Meng Fuyuan’s breathing touched her ear as he said in a low voice that he hadn’t slept at all that night—after restraining himself for a long time, he still couldn’t help it.

He grabbed her hand and explored downward, “…Qingwu, I didn’t even dare imagine it was you doing this for me.”

That throbbing heat startled Chen Qingwu.

She only felt dizzy and disoriented, because this person who was usually reserved and aloof was now confessing his most deeply hidden secrets.

And she liked that he was fascinated by her, that he submitted to the most base desires for her, and she especially liked when he called her “Qingwu” with a slightly trembling voice.

In the room, there was only Meng Fuyuan’s suppressed breathing.

Chen Qingwu fulfilled his transgressive fantasy from that night and also revised his memory of insomnia.

In the dim lamplight, she curiously raised her palm. Meng Fuyuan wouldn’t let her look closely at that evidence, immediately turning her head to kiss her, making the stain on her palm all wipe onto his clean white shirt.

This process seemed like they were mutually contaminating each other.

Meng Fuyuan said nothing more, holding Chen Qingwu and breathing heavily.

At this moment, the phone on the coffee table suddenly vibrated.

Meng Fuyuan glanced over and confirmed it was his.

Originally not planning to answer, but it rang rather insistently.

Chen Qingwu’s palm braced against his shoulder as she sat up, telling him to answer the call while she went to wash her hands.

The call was from Pei Shao.

After Meng Fuyuan answered, he pressed speakerphone and took off his wrinkled shirt, getting another clean one to change into.

Pei Shao: “You’re still alive? Sent you a New Year’s greeting, and you didn’t reply for two days.”

Meng Fuyuan said flatly: “Dating, no time to reply.”

A laugh came from the bathroom—Chen Qingwu’s.

Pei Shao said “holy shit,” “Then am I interrupting you two?”

“Since you know you’re interrupting, why not hang up.”

Pei Shao immediately hung up the phone.

Chen Qingwu came out of the bathroom and sat down on the sofa, “Actually, we should thank Pei Shao. He’s the one who helped me confirm that you took my cup from your office.”

“Then how should we thank him? Give him the head table seat at the wedding banquet?”

Chen Qingwu laughed aloud.

There was candy in the plate on the coffee table in front of them. She picked out a milk candy, put it in her mouth, then took another and handed it to Meng Fuyuan, saying while chewing, “I don’t know if it’s just my imagination, but the ones I ate as a child seemed softer.”

Meng Fuyuan took the milk candy but put it back in the plate, “If it’s this brand, I heard they have two factories. The hard ones are produced by the new equipment.”

“Really?”

“Forgot where I saw it. Should be like that.”

Chen Qingwu immediately took out her phone to search, and it really was true.

She said with a smile, “How do you know such strange trivia?”

“Occasionally I browse social networks.”

“Do you have Weibo?”

“Yes.”

“I want to follow you.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“No particular reason.”

Chen Qingwu looked up at him, “Did you like some other young lady’s posts?”

“Otherwise why would you be afraid of me following you?”

“I’ll tell you next time.”

“Next time you’ll have deleted everything you need to delete!” Chen Qingwu laughed as she got up from the floor, turned around, her knee pushing between his knees, kneeling on one leg, “If you don’t let me see today, we’ll have a trust crisis.”

Meng Fuyuan sighed.

He grabbed his phone nearby and handed it to her.

A phone without a protective case, showing some signs of use.

Chen Qingwu lit up the screen, “Unlock password?”

“Girlfriend’s birthday.”

Chen Qingwu smiled, “Oh, copying me?”

“I set mine first.”

“Okay, then I wrongly accused you.”

Meng Fuyuan chuckled softly.

The phone wallpaper was a black and white architectural silhouette. The apps were very different from hers—most should be classified as developer tools.

The appearance of Weibo among these was somewhat out of place.

Opening it, she discovered all the content on the homepage came from the account “Freesia1027.”

That was her Weibo.

And Meng Fuyuan’s username was “User0117,” using the default avatar—at a glance it looked like a zombie account.

Clicking in, he hadn’t posted a single Weibo, but in the likes list, everything was from those years past when she was in a bad mood and casually posted sentimental fragments.

This Weibo account of hers would occasionally post some photos and reports from porcelain exhibitions, so most followers were enthusiasts in related fields. Real-life mutual follows were only Zhao Yingfei and a few classmates.

She had never paid attention to who liked her Weibo posts, so naturally didn’t know that among them would be a “User0117” who would give silent comfort in every moment of her emotional lows.

At this moment, she suddenly remembered that long ago she had received a mention.

That was when she was still in London, had just had an argument with Meng Qiran, and posted a very long Weibo while sitting on a park bench.

Actually, after venting her emotions it passed. No matter how sad something was, it couldn’t compare to the urgency of assignment deadlines. Just as she was about to close Weibo, there was a notification of a new mention.

That Weibo reposted information about a Malaysian Chinese-run dessert shop opening a location in London. The shop’s signature main product included durian cake.

Besides mentioning her, there was no other content.

She had mentioned on Weibo which city she was in and had expressed her love for durian more than once. So receiving this mention, she understood it was probably some fan’s way of comforting her.

That day, she really did go to that dessert shop and bought a durian cake. Her bad mood also dissipated because of it.

After returning, she replied “thank you” under that Weibo.

“…Did you delete some Weibo posts?”

Meng Fuyuan nodded, “Afraid you’d discover it was me.”

“Your homepage is completely blank—no one could discover anything… except for the birthday information.”

But there were so many people in the world born on January 17th. The Chen Qingwu of that time might have suspected anyone, but absolutely wouldn’t suspect Meng Fuyuan whom she saw at most twice a year.

Chen Qingwu put down the phone and immediately hugged the person beside her, “…Thank you.”

Meng Fuyuan’s palm pressed on her back, his tone confirming seriously: “Trust crisis resolved?”

Chen Qingwu’s shoulders shook with laughter, “…By the way, what was our original topic?”

“Milk candy.”

“Oh, you really won’t eat it?”

“No.”

“You won’t eat durian cake, won’t eat oranges, won’t eat milk candy—you’re too picky.” Chen Qingwu suddenly raised her head, looking into his eyes, “…Then I know.”

Before Meng Fuyuan could speak, Chen Qingwu directly kissed him, her tongue lightly sweeping across the seam of his lips, then prepared to pull away.

Already too late.

Meng Fuyuan’s palm pressed on the back of her head. While entangling, he could still taste a bit of the candy’s sweetness.

Chen Qingwu’s palm braced against the sofa back, then she straddled Meng Fuyuan’s legs, extended her palm, pressed on his shoulders and suddenly pushed hard backward.

His back rested against the leather backing. As her breath left the corner of his mouth and moved to his collarbone, he narrowed his eyes slightly.

Meng Fuyuan didn’t stop her, nor did he take initiative for now, wanting to see what she would do.

The shirt he had just changed into had two buttons undone. Chen Qingwu’s fingertip touched that button and slid downward one by one.

She observed his expression, certain that when he thought her next step would be to undo the buttons, she suddenly bent down.

Meng Fuyuan’s Adam’s apple rolled.

Through the white fabric of the shirt, after that spot became moist, it vaguely revealed the color underneath. Chen Qingwu maintained her position, lifting her eyes to observe his expression, gradually applying more pressure.

Meng Fuyuan could already feel the pain of being bitten, but didn’t make a sound, only reaching out to gently pinch her chin, as if wanting to see her expression more clearly.

Soon, Chen Qingwu straightened up. Still not playing by the rules, her arms crossed, grasping the hem of her own sweater.

She continued observing his expression, not missing his breath that slowed slightly in anticipation, and the dark color rising in his eyes.

Chen Qingwu fulfilled his expectation.

For her next move, she grabbed his arms, wrapped them back around, guiding his fingers to press the clasp on her back.

She had a beautiful spine, the slightly protruding bones like white pebbles picked up by a river.

Meng Fuyuan looked at her face that, like celadon porcelain, always seemed somewhat cool, and undid the clasps one by one. The feeling was like step by step guiding a saint to fall.

The living room light was a somewhat cool-toned white, reflecting on skin, creating the luster of white-glazed jade.

Meng Fuyuan looked at her without moving.

Yet under this gaze, she felt her skin develop goosebumps, and… distinctly reacting secondary sexual characteristics.

This time, all the preparatory work was completed only through his undisguised gaze.

Meng Fuyuan still wore that shirt. Chen Qingwu intended it this way. If she hadn’t tried, she wouldn’t have known that this contrast between being completely bare and fully clothed would make her so excited.

The rhythm of rising and falling gradually became unbalanced, yet Meng Fuyuan seemed to have no intention of reaching out to help, only watching her, making her search on her own.

He could clearly see her face, her everything, her slightly dilated pupils, the thin layer of sweat on the tip of her nose.

Even her breathing seemed to become something substantial that could be captured.

Meng Fuyuan was somewhat moved at this moment.

Moved that she wasn’t afraid to display before him the truest underlying nature of her personality—sincere, brave, and free.

And this was actually praise for him—completely believing he would understand, would appreciate, and more than anyone would be happy to encourage her to be true to herself.

In his conception, he couldn’t imagine a more beautiful intimate relationship than this—absolute resonance on the spiritual level.

Because that’s exactly what he was.

Appreciating every aspect of Chen Qingwu.

Chen Qingwu’s palm braced on his shoulder, “…Meng Fuyuan.”

“Mm.”

“What do you think they’re doing now?”

“Don’t know. I only know what I’m doing.”

“What are you doing?”

Meng Fuyuan didn’t speak.

Chen Qingwu smiled, looking at his face that at this moment still seemed cool as snow, and his eyes where undercurrents surged in the dark depths, repeating: “What are you doing?”

“Qingwu.” Meng Fuyuan reached out, but only gently brushed her ink-seaweed-like long hair that had slipped from her shoulder to behind her, “You keep provoking me—what are you expecting?”

Chen Qingwu paused.

At this moment, Meng Fuyuan finally completely understood her intention—probably she had also noticed that because of his long-held affection, after obtaining her he was somewhat careful and hesitant. So she used constant provocation to encourage him to also be true to himself, making him believe she could completely accept his “baseness,” his occasional desire for control and destruction, just as he accepted her sincerity and openness.

Just like her consistent philosophy.

Love, like vessels, should be used, not worshipped.

“As you wish? Okay?” Meng Fuyuan asked slowly.

Chen Qingwu’s eyes widened.

“I’ve been wanting to say.” Meng Fuyuan looked at her and suddenly raised his palm, “Aren’t you swaying too much?”

The force of the slap was very light, as if only air brushing across her chest.

However, from the soles of her feet to the top of her head, a spring vein suddenly electrified. That instant felt like her heart rate accelerating, approaching numbness.

She swayed even more violently.

Unable to support herself, she leaned forward to embrace him.

His earlier low voice carried a few traces of coldness. Knowing it was deliberate, it still made her tremble incessantly.

Her face buried in his shoulder, almost pleading, “Meng Fuyuan…”

Meng Fuyuan finally took over control. That kiss fell on her ear, his gentle voice almost innocently asking, “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Chen Qingwu couldn’t make a sound.

Meng Fuyuan laughed softly by her ear, reassuringly, “Alright.”

It wasn’t. This reassurance was just a smokescreen to deliberately relax her guard. The subsequent actions simply intended to directly destroy her, to watch the palace she built on top of him collapse and disintegrate layer by layer.

He succeeded.

When held tightly by Meng Fuyuan, Chen Qingwu trembled uncontrollably, breathing rapidly, her heart seemingly racing as if she would die the next second.

Meng Fuyuan took the thin blanket from the sofa to wrap around her, gently kissing her cheek, as if comforting someone who had nearly drowned.

In the warmth and oxygen, she gradually calmed.

Meng Fuyuan held her, suddenly leaning forward, reaching across the table to take a milk candy, unwrapped it, and put it in her mouth.

“…I don’t have low blood sugar.” Chen Qingwu bit the candy, saying indistinctly.

“I know.” Meng Fuyuan said with a smile, “Reward for a good child.”

The courtyard lights burned all night. The floating “fishing lights” only docked when day broke.

They slept dreamlessly all night. Even if they dreamed, the dreams should have contained only each other.

The next day, Chen Qingwu slept until the sun was high before getting up.

Opening her eyes to find Meng Fuyuan absent, when she went to brush her teeth, she called him.

Meng Fuyuan said he was downstairs and would be right up.

A moment later, there was a knock at the door.

Chen Qingwu rinsed the toothpaste foam from her mouth and ran over to open the door.

What met her eyes was a bouquet of luscious, vibrant roses.

Meng Fuyuan wore a black coat, a thin layer of cold clinging to him.

He said the shops in town weren’t open, so he drove to the city to search, and fortunately found a flower shop that had opened.

The bouquet was handed into her arms. Chen Qingwu held it and asked: “Why are you giving me flowers?”

“Because I went for a morning walk, and for some reason, I suddenly wanted to give you a bouquet of flowers.”

Chen Qingwu held the snow pear paper wrapping with both hands, inhaling the deep fragrance of the bouquet.

She had never heard a more romantic reason for giving flowers than this.