Around three or four in the morning, the room was dimly lit. A bamboo mat covered the bed, and the electric fan whirred steadily, its breeze caressing soft skin and hair—the perfect time for sleep.

Chen Yi, in his drowsy state, reached for water. Someone held a cup to his lips, and he took two sips of the cool liquid. His hand brushed against the slightly cool skin of the person beside him and instinctively traced upward, feeling the silk-like smoothness. There was a familiar, subtle fragrance. As he drew closer, he felt a delicate, graceful body. How could he not know who was in his arms? He thought it was just another amorous dream.

Breathing sounds rose from the night, suddenly becoming intimate and entangled. Chen Yi hazily thought this was too damn real, his mind not yet catching up, but his hands moved ahead of his thoughts, touching and caressing places both appropriate and inappropriate. He noticed the dream figure’s body becoming rigid and trembling, warm breath nestling in the hollow of his shoulder, their entire body seemingly tense with restraint.

Wanting to kiss her, he instinctively sought her cheeks with his lips, showing neither restraint nor fear of startling her. He easily parted her cherry lips, his tongue sliding in, moving freely and willfully. He imagined countless ways of kissing, but only in dreams could he indulge so thoroughly.

Whether it was the dream body being too inexperienced and rigid, or the sensations feeling too intensely real, he heard his name—”Chen Yi”—floating past his ear like a sob. Fingernails dug into his skin with slight pain. His wine-hazed eyes suddenly opened wide, then fixed steadily on the person before him, a pair of clear, bright eyes containing glistening tears, gazing at him unsteadily.

Everything around him… wasn’t a dream.

Chen Yi became completely awake, breaking out in a hot sweat, pupils dilated. His entire body stiffened, frozen like a wooden chicken, unable to utter a word. He withdrew his hands as if electrocuted, rolling away to half the bed’s distance, his voice rough and trembling: “I… you…”

He was lying on her bedroom bed.

“You were drunk.”

Miao Jing’s beautiful face showed a startled flush, her usual cold aloofness had quietly retreated, her eyes concealing a hint of tender charm. She tremblingly hugged her knees as she sat up, hiding calmly yet hesitantly before him.

“I fucking… shit…” Chen Yi’s face turned ashen, his entire scalp numb, his lower body still at attention, rather difficulty trying to hide as he rolled off the bed. In his twenty years, he’d never been so damn embarrassed, his brain completely short-circuiting. Thankfully, the room’s darkness preserved his last shred of dignity.

“Chen Yi.”

She called his name softly, moving closer to grasp the edge of his clothes. Their gazes collided briefly, her eyes seemingly making a final effort as she straightened up, fully captured by his shadowed gaze. Miao Jing tremblingly reached out to embrace him.

“Chen Yi…” her voice was a gentle whisper, “Don’t go… stay…”

She rested her cheek on his shoulder, softly nuzzling, her soft, moist lips lightly sucking at his warm skin. Moving closer still, she buried her face in his neck, silently murmuring his name, again and again, like an enchantment.

His mind went blank, his Adam’s apple bobbing repeatedly, his tone hoarse and unclear: “Stay for what?”

“Anything,” her voice trembled too, struggling to overcome her shyness.

“Chen Yi…”

Chen Yi’s gaze grew dark with surrender, his body frozen in place.

She tightened her arms, twisting her soft waist, pulling him toward the bed. He followed her movement, his handsome brows furrowed, dark pupils fixed on her, asking hoarsely if she knew what she was doing.

Miao Jing said she knew, trying hard to face him frankly.

“No regrets?”

“No regrets.”

His sharp gaze fixed directly on her: “Why are you doing this?”

Her gaze flickered, cherry lips stammering: “No reason, just… thank you.”

Thank you.

He wanted to thank her—thank her whole family!

His gaze darkened, expression freezing, clearly hurt by these words. He replied with a soft “Is that so,” his heart suddenly feeling somewhat empty. His body fell to the side, lying parallel with her on the pillow. His fingers touched his lips, unconsciously wanting a cigarette. His eyes stared straight at the ceiling. In just this moment, the sky changed from dark to gently bright, the shadowy shapes in the room gradually becoming clear. The traces of his childhood residence had completely worn away, becoming entirely her territory—the posters on the walls, the books and writing materials on the desk, the toys and miscellaneous items by the bed.

Turning his head again, the thin small shadow beside him had suddenly grown into a graceful, delicate young woman, with beautiful eyes and a distinguished face, soft limbs, and porcelain-like skin. She noticed his appraising gaze and turned to look at him, both their gazes quiet and deep.

Like cloud shadows and daylight swaying, like a mirror-like surface suddenly opening its case, his breathing stopped for two beats. Their bright eyes drew closer, starting with a forceful deep kiss, directly parting each other’s lips, teeth clicking together. He uninhibitedly swept his tongue across each pearl-like tooth, passing over saliva and breath. She gasped for air, her eyes rippling like sunset clouds. Finally, she actively curled her small tongue to suck at his tongue tip, sliding and rubbing like a small fish, guiding him. Where was the ice-cold loneliness like a solitary moon? She was also charming and gorgeous in her allure.

Their lips and teeth were like glue and lacquer, sparks spreading wildly, completely igniting reason. Both their bodies and bones were beautiful, with a kind of well-proportioned, natural youthful beauty.

“Is it here?”

“I don’t know,” her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.

Now he felt somewhat unrestrained again, lawless and shameless, laughing softly by her ear: “It’s different from the videos.”

Her clear eyes, though misty, also contained such enchanting waves of desire. He was excited like nothing else; his cold and self-restrained sister was also a charming and seductive woman, having love and desire just like him.

He moved closer, fingers caressing her slightly sweaty, flushed cheeks, asking softly if it hurt.

She said softly it didn’t hurt, just felt very tired. She lay on her side, the daylight now completely bright, summer light filtering through the floral curtains into the room, casting a porcelain-like soft glow on her skin. Chen Yi embraced her from behind, resting his chin on her crown, brushing her hair onto the pillow, and wiping away the hot sweat from her nape.

Nothing had been prepared beside them, and with Miao Jing in this state, he didn’t dare move carelessly. Remembering something, he bent to her ear asking if she wanted him to go buy medicine. She shook her head, saying her period had just ended, and fell into deep sleep using his arm as a pillow.

When Miao Jing woke again, it was already ten-thirty in the morning. Chen Yi had gone out to buy some things, called Bo Zai, and stayed home to watch over her today. Worried about Miao Jing, he finished his cigarette and went to the bedroom to check on her, seeing her lying there in a small bundle, moving closer to find her clear eyes already open, staring blankly at the unopened curtains.

Chen Yi showed tenderness for the first time in his life, his tall frame and hard bones seeming to shrink, half-crouching before her, both hands propped on the bed asking if she was hungry. Uncomfortable? He had bought breakfast and ointment, bringing over milk and her favorite food to feed her. Miao Jing sat on the bed, hurriedly eating two bites, feeling sticky and wanting to take a shower. Chen Yi directly picked her up and turned on the shower head to wash her body. Both their gazes were unnatural, beyond awkwardness seeming to have reached an unspoken understanding. Miao Jing moved her gaze away, twisting her slightly flushed cheeks.

The bathroom was misty with steam, water droplets, and humid heat clinging everywhere. Their intertwined breathing was stickier and heavier than the moisture, both pairs of eyes hazy and clouded, caught between flying water drops and emotions too shy to express. Somehow remembering their first kiss, a very wonderful occasion and atmosphere. Chen Yi reached out to wipe the water from her face, holding her in his arms, then lifted his head to kiss her petal-like face. He felt grateful again, grateful that there were only the two of them in this home, only two people depending on each other for survival, everything having an unspoken destiny.

Carrying Miao Jing back to the room, drying her hair, and helping her dress, he enjoyed this feeling of meticulous care and attention. He had also bought soothing ointment and medical patches, awkwardly handing them to Miao Jing. The nightclub often had some horrifying romantic news, and he was also somewhat trembling with fear, not daring to act rashly.

Miao Jing clutched her skirt hem, face pale as she shook her head.

In the end, Chen Yi went to rinse his mouth, lay on the bed, propped up on his shoulders, and bent down, comforting her pain and discomfort.