Whoever gets it wet takes responsibility?

Shen Qianzhan caught his implication and pressed her other bare foot, still soaking in water, against his chest, giving him a light kick: “Have you no shame?”

After this laughing scolding, seeing him look down silently with a calm expression, the smile on Shen Qianzhan’s lips gradually faded as she asked: “What’s wrong?”

She suspected she had gone too far with her joke, but thinking back, she didn’t feel she had been inappropriate or crossed any boundaries. Just as she was pondering this, he patiently dried both her feet, his palm gripping her heel and moving upward inch by inch to clasp her ankle.

Men ran hot by nature.

His palm was burning, like never-extinguished flames. Just holding her like this for a moment, she could feel vigorous heat continuously transmitting from his body.

He was too close, and this position severely tested bodily flexibility.

Shen Qianzhan guessed he had more to say and leaned back, resting her back against the cool mirror surface.

In May in Wuxi, the weather was trending toward summer heat.

These past days had been blazing sunny with high skies and light clouds, no wind or rain. Even evenings were stifling, let alone this night when storms seemed imminent.

“I’m thinking,” Ji Qinghe said in a low voice, “once we cross this forbidden threshold, how to deal with you.”

He was truly unguarded with his words tonight, every single sentence hitting her heartstrings—sometimes heavy as a thousand weights, sometimes ethereal and elusive, stirring up ripples in her pool of spring water until she wanted to take him right then and there to teach him what should and shouldn’t be said when a man and woman were alone together.

Unfortunately, not tonight.

Shen Qianzhan felt quite regretful.

Her toes pressed against his chest, her nightgown turned and rolled, barely covering the tops of her thighs.

The jacket draped over her shoulders had also slipped halfway down, exposing one fragrant shoulder.

Yet Shen Qianzhan was completely unaware of her current appearance. After all, tonight Ji Qinghe could do nothing to her, and she could do nothing to him either.

Since the boundaries could be freely blurred, desire could also be freely ignited.

She curved her index finger, hooking onto his shirt where two buttons were already undone, pulling him toward her.

She half-sat, half-leaned with her legs bent, drawing extremely close to him.

“It’s not like we haven’t done it before,” Shen Qianzhan’s fingers, painted with bright nail polish, twisted his button and undid another one with a few moves. She deliberately used her toes to tickle his waist, and when their breathing drew near, she whispered with breath like orchids: “Which time didn’t I accommodate your preferences?”

Ji Qinghe pressed against her forehead and laughed, his laughter muffled, low, and pleasant.

As their eyes met, he lowered his head to kiss her again, from her brow all the way down to her chest.

Shen Qianzhan’s chest was already swollen and aching. When he bit her, she couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or torture. She reached out to push him away, but he caught her wrist and pressed it against the mirror.

He looked up at her, his gaze revealing some amusement, seeming both teasing and satisfied: “Still unbuttoning or not?”

Though she sat on the washbasin counter at his eye level, she was constrained everywhere.

Yet her expression remained calm and composed, showing none of the panic from being trapped under Five-Finger Mountain last time, unable to turn the tables.

Shen Qianzhan moved her wrist to indicate he should release it first.

When Ji Qinghe’s palm loosened, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in to bite his earlobe.

Biting and kissing while secretly breathing out warm air, until a flush spread across his ear, she finally showed mercy: “You can go back now.” Three parts laughter, seven parts teasing in her words. Combined with her flushed earlobes, like colorful evening clouds spreading across the entire field of vision.

Ji Qinghe didn’t move, only pulled her hand down to press against a certain place: “How can I go back like this?”

Shen Qianzhan suppressed her laughter, her eyes rippling with waves of light. Just making eye contact with her was enough to make one’s heart race and breath short, unable to maintain composure.

He simply carried her back to the bedroom.

In the bedroom, the incense’s fragrance had faded from its initial smokiness, dispersing into a faint, delicate scent. The aroma was gentle—at first smell, it was fresh lotus fragrance, but upon closer inspection, it carried hints of sandalwood, slightly rich and heavy.

Shen Qianzhan took a deep breath, her gaze falling on the base of the gilded pagoda when she suddenly remembered something: “Will we see Ji Lin when we go to Xi’an this time?”

“Do you want to see him?” Ji Qinghe asked.

How could Shen Qianzhan have the nerve to say she didn’t want to in front of him?

She was thirty years old—the bridges she’d crossed were more numerous than the salt that kid had eaten. She wouldn’t really compete with a child.

Shen Qianzhan mentioned Ji Lin because she had a deep impression of him. Besides initially being called a spider spirit from the Silk Cave by him, there was another reason—Ji Lin was extremely good-looking.

Throughout her project work, she’d seen many promising child stars, but none had ever possessed Ji Lin’s star-like eyes bright as the moon and features as dazzling as clustered seas of stars and galaxies.

She didn’t answer directly but instead said: “When I visited Mr. Ji last time, I was unprepared and didn’t bring Ji Lin a gift.”

Actually, this time was also rushed.

The itinerary had just been decided, the tickets just bought, everything hurried without even time to prepare gifts.

“What does he like? What are his preferences? Just tell me directly so I can take a shortcut and make him happy.”

Ji Qinghe glanced at her and said: “Ji Lin is good-looking but young, hasn’t even formally started school yet. You’re already setting your sights on him now—how does that make me feel?”

Shen Qianzhan listened with complete confusion: “What designs do I have on Ji Lin?”

“Grooming him?” Ji Qinghe wasn’t sure if his word choice was appropriate, but seeing she understood, he continued: “Isn’t there a saying about cultivating from childhood for custom tailoring?”

Pervert!

Shen Qianzhan resisted the urge to roll her eyes and said: “By the time Ji Lin grows up, I’ll probably have one foot in the coffin already. My brain would have to be waterlogged to pass up ready-made blessings.”

“Even saying I want to have a child with Ji Lin’s looks would be more credible than your theory.”

“Qiao Xin said my intelligence dropped when drunk—you’re the one who’s been stupid for three years from one drink.”

Ji Qinghe set her down and pulled over a chair for himself, sitting by her bedside: “That’s also possible.”

“The Ji family has good genes. Since you have ideas, while I’m diligently cultivating with high-quality daily wages, seize the opportunity.” He smiled slightly, deliberately teasing her: “Our child could also look like Ji Lin, with proper features.”

Proper features?

Shen Qianzhan was about to retort that if Ji Lin’s naturally gifted looks could only be called “proper features,” then no child in the world could be called pleasing to the eye.

The words were on her lips when she sensed something was wrong. Seeing Ji Qinghe’s half-smile full of scheming thoughts, she finally understood that she had unknowingly fallen into his trap again.

He had thrown out bait to provoke her indignation, his real purpose being to draw out her latter half-sentence so he could fan the flames and take verbal advantage.

Having been tricked, Shen Qianzhan tightly shut her mouth and said nothing.

Before meeting Ji Qinghe, she hadn’t even thought about marriage, let alone having children. But following this dog of a man’s words and imagining it, if she could have a child as adorable and snow-white as Ji Lin, it wasn’t entirely without appeal.

Therefore, she actually didn’t harbor much resentment in her heart, but she put on airs of being coy, pretending to be shy and indignant.

Ji Qinghe glanced at her and said: “Ji Lin is an only child who wasn’t brought back to the Ji family until he was three.”

Shen Qianzhan was slightly surprised, completely forgetting she was pretending to be angry.

She curled up the corner of her blanket, pressing it down with both legs, propping herself up on her elbows, half-lying at the head of the bed.

From his words, Ji Lin’s background seemed to have quite a story.

“Ji Lin is the first child of the Ji family’s great-grandchildren generation. His father is Ji Suimu, also my elder brother, one year older than me. When he divorced Ji Lin’s mother, he didn’t know of Ji Lin’s existence, so Ji Lin was only brought back to the Ji family when he was three, to be personally raised by his side.”

With wealthy family marriages plus the plot device of running away with the crown prince, Shen Qianzhan immediately caught the scent of an eight o’clock melodrama’s passion, her gossip desire burning fiercely: “Ji Lin’s mother willingly gave up custody rights?”

Ji Qinghe didn’t avoid discussing what could be called “the secrets of the Bu Zhong Sui wealthy family,” saying: “Naturally unwilling.”

“What happened back then, I’m not entirely clear about. At that time I was working as a clock restoration master at a clock museum in Beijing, with little contact with my family. I only know the general outline.” Ji Qinghe paused to explain: “My family relationships aren’t complicated. My parents are still alive, and Grandfather and Ms. Meng are also in good health.”

His tone was calm, though his lips curved slightly upward: “When you’re with me, you won’t need to worry about supporting my family elders.”

Shen Qianzhan ignored him, neither picking up the thread nor arguing.

“I also have a younger sister named Ji Suihuan who’s currently discussing marriage. The Ji family has upright family traditions with a simple population. Suihuan has a good personality—if you became her sister-in-law, she should be very happy.”

“She’s financially independent, spends lavishly, and loves giving people things when she’s happy. With that personality, she should get along well with you.”

Ji Qinghe thought for a moment and added: “My family doesn’t favor sons over daughters, nor do we pressure couples to have a second child. It’s just that the family elders enjoy liveliness. When Ji Lin was born, to express their joy, they gave my sister-in-law a big red envelope.”

“The Ji family men, going back three generations, have no habits of philandering. Taking a wife is a matter of growing old together for life. Though my elder brother didn’t set a good example, the breakdown of his marriage wasn’t due to a third party. Even now, he’s wholeheartedly trying to win back my sister-in-law—there’s no one else.”

He seemed to have a slight headache, closing his eyes and lightly pressing one temple. When he opened his eyes again, he supplemented several more points as if checking for omissions.

Speaking of whatever came to mind, completely without structure.

Shen Qianzhan’s heart softened, like honey-soaked sugar syrup pouring down.

“Ji Qinghe.” Shen Qianzhan interrupted him. “I’m thirty years old, not exactly young. With your conditions, whether it’s socialite daughters or eighteen-year-old girls, you could find them all. Though I’ve achieved modest success in my career, I don’t have much savings. After years of struggling, I barely managed to buy a house to settle in Beijing, still carrying a mortgage.”

“I appear glamorous on the surface, but inside I’m neither here nor there, awkward and embarrassing. There are plenty of women in the outside world who are better looking than me, more capable than me, more financially independent than me, and they’re all willing to…”

Ji Qinghe asked: “Then why aren’t you willing?”

He knew what Shen Qianzhan wanted. She had fallen to rock bottom, so fame and wealth were external things to her. She had stepped into the abyss, so she avoided emotions like the plague.

She wanted to be chosen with certainty, to have a trump card in life.

This trump card didn’t need to be gold-plated or silver-inlaid, nor did it need to be crowned with halos. It only needed to stay by her side through life, whether she faced wind and waves, blazed through thorns, climbed mountains and gazed at seas, or traversed rivers—never leaving, never abandoning, walking shoulder to shoulder.

So Ji Qinghe knew that in Shen Qianzhan’s heart, he held no advantage.

No matter who it was, to move her heart, they could only offer their sincere heart with both hands and swear undying devotion.

His gaze fell on her face as he repeated in a low voice: “They’re all willing—why aren’t you willing?”

The incense had burned out, leaving the room filled with lingering fragrance.

The faint scent on her body remained unique and distinct, like an irrepressible fragrant essence.

All he could smell was her.

Seeing her seemingly at a loss for words, Ji Qinghe took a step back and said: “If you want to see my final trump card, you need to show sincerity.”

“My heart is right here—come and take it whenever you want.”