Falling into the trap of greed, just a small taste of sweetness is far from enough.

Qing Hang deliberately slowed his pace. Every wrinkle within her inner walls was stretched open. The passage, extremely sensitive after the climax, both resisted the foreign intrusion yet consciously wound around him of its own accord.

Raindrops on the glass window blurred the hazy night outside. Inside the room, only a single desk lamp provided light, its glow fading at the edge of the bed.

Her toes, peeking out from under the covers, were tangled in the crumpled sheets. A suspicious red mark adorned her skin.

The air was cool, but beneath the covers it was hot enough to catch fire. After the sweat extinguished the sparks, it became stuffy and humid again.

Cheng Wanyue regained her senses from the lingering afterglow of her climax. The reflection of Qing Hang in her eyes gradually became clear. She no longer cared about the content of the WeChat message. With a flushed face, she called his name softly, saying it was too full, asking him to withdraw.

He was obedient, pulling out slowly.

Yet her body seemed to hold him back, shamelessly making sticky, wet sounds.

Gentle kisses fell on her neck, giving her the momentary illusion that she could catch her breath. Every pore of her skin relaxed, her fingers buried in his short black hair loosened slightly, but it was at this moment that he launched his covert attack.

The rain suddenly intensified as well, large droplets hammering against the windows with tremendous force.

Downstairs, leaves from the neighborhood trees covered the ground. Slender branches swayed back and forth in the wind, and birds’ nests hidden among the tree forks teetered precariously.

The cry she had been suppressing suddenly rose in pitch from his thrust, only to be drowned out by the thunderous rain as it escaped her lips. But it didn’t matter—he heard it.

She called his name.

Whether complaints or irritation, it was all because of him.

This rented apartment was much better than that dilapidated little courtyard in Baicheng. The rain didn’t leak in, the electricity didn’t go out during thunderstorms, there was no moldy smell, and certainly no rats or cockroaches. Closing the doors and windows was enough to keep it warm. The bed was soft, with a cushioned headboard so she wouldn’t hurt herself too badly if she accidentally bumped her head. Yet Qing Hang inexplicably thought of that bamboo recliner she had disliked.

The bamboo recliner had small holes where insects had gnawed on it over time.

Whenever Cheng Wanyue visited, she would check to see if there were more tiny holes in the bamboo. She worried the recliner might collapse, but there was nowhere else to sit.

She complained the recliner was too hard, so she would either sit on his clothes or a few books.

Once, Grandpa specially bought a plush cushion from the supermarket, soft and beautiful. Because the size wasn’t quite right, he even took it to a tailor to trim it. When he brought it home, he asked Qing Hang to put it on the recliner, but Qing Hang ended up hiding it in the cabinet.

The recliner remained hard as ever, giving him one opportunity after another to hold her.

Whether she’d gained or lost weight, he always knew.

…

As reckless as Qing Hang was during his fierce moments, he had to bear double the consequences afterward, even suffering the next morning when it was time to get up for work.

He was accustomed to preparing breakfast and waking Cheng Wanyue before leaving, but today he couldn’t wake her.

After calling her several times, she grew annoyed.

A pillow flew at his face. His glasses were knocked askew, so Qing Hang simply took them off and placed them on the table. Cheng Wanyue, still reluctant to get up, rolled over, wrapped in the blanket. The bed wasn’t large, and even though she moved further in, Qing Hang could still reach her with an outstretched hand.

Qing Hang reminded her it was getting late. “Cheng Yanqing leaves at ten. I have business at the hospital and can’t get away. You can go after breakfast.”

“Is he going home today?” Cheng Wanyue opened her eyes, remembering what Cheng Yanqing had told her a couple of days ago. Regretfully, she pulled the blanket over her face. “Oh no, I forgot.”

She had originally planned to go to the studio this morning. “Ask for leave. If you don’t see him off, he’ll hold it against you for years. And there’s Meiqiu, I’ll bring it over.”

The rain had stopped, but the overcast sky left the room dim.

She suddenly sat up in bed, but before she could steady herself, she fell back again. “Ah… my waist is so sore, it’s awful.”

Looking at Qing Hang, she noticed that despite sleeping later than her, he was in excellent spirits. “How can you be so refreshed? It’s not fair. Next time, I want to be on top. Just you wait and see.”

“Mm, I’ll be waiting,” Qing Hang reached under the covers with one hand to massage her waist. “The weather hasn’t been good these past few days. Don’t go play ping pong. If I get off work early, I’ll buy movie tickets or go shopping with you.”

Cheng Wanyue yawned languidly, “Alright.”

Breakfast was pumpkin porridge and soup dumplings. Though she spent time in Nanjing every year and wasn’t used to the local specialties there, she occasionally craved soup dumplings. Qing Hang had prepared them yesterday afternoon.

Cheng Wanyue brought some for Cheng Yanqing, which he could heat in the microwave.

He never planned to stay long in Beijing. He hadn’t brought much luggage, and could leave with just his car keys. There was nothing here to make him linger, except for Meiqiu.

“I’m not giving up the apartment. In case you and Qing Hang argue one day and you get angry, at least you’ll have somewhere to go,” Cheng Yanqing left her the key. “A hotel is still a hotel, it’s not the same as home.”

Cheng Wanyue knew he still remembered the time she got drunk. “If we argue, he’s the one who should leave. I’m not that foolish.”

Cheng Yanqing was very satisfied. “Good, keep it that way.”

To be honest, he admitted he was a bit of a romantic, always diving headfirst into relationships. Cheng Wanyue was different from him.

She hurt others before hurting herself, piercing both hearts until they were in tatters. The backlash left her feeling no better, but she remained stubborn.

“Yueyue, love isn’t a shackle that restrains you. Love who you want to love, do what you want to do. You can change appropriately, but don’t lose yourself. I still maintain my position—as long as you’re happy. The Cheng family will always be your safety net.”

He rarely said such sentimental things, and Cheng Wanyue rarely cried in front of him. At most, she would wipe away tears after he left.

She knew he was driving, but still sent him many emoticons.

Cheng Yanqing’s phone vibrated every few minutes. While he ate at a service area, Cheng Wanyue was also out looking for food.

Qing Hang unusually didn’t have to work overtime today. Before picking her up, he bought movie tickets. She was craving hot pot, so he took her for that.

On a weekday, the mall wasn’t too crowded. When they passed by a cake shop, Cheng Wanyue lingered for a few moments. Qing Hang went to queue for milk tea while she entered the store to ask the staff if she could make a birthday cake herself.

There was still more than a week left. She could find time to come and try a few times. She would surely be able to make a beautiful one.

When Qing Hang turned around, he found Cheng Wanyue’s seat empty. After taking the milk tea from the clerk, he looked around for her. The light from the dessert shop windows was bright.

She was standing bent over by the display window. Her approach to selecting desserts differed from choosing clothes—she could buy all the clothes she liked, but buying too many desserts would be wasteful if she couldn’t finish them.

Qing Hang joined her in looking. “What would you like to eat?”

Cheng Wanyue shifted her gaze from a particular cake and pointed casually. “…This taro roll, it’s good after spicy food.”

The surprise from many years ago that remained unfinished had become a regret. This time, she was determined not to ruin it.