“I don’t need you to make money,” Miao Jing quickly denied. “It’s fine if you don’t work, you could develop other interests, like soccer. Hmm… cycling, fitness, hiking, traveling…”

Anything but staying vigorously at home.

Chen Yi’s dark profound eyes narrowed, his brows suddenly furrowing – what exactly did she mean? That he didn’t have money? Poor physique? Insufficient stamina?

Surely not. Bogotá’s cost of living was so low, that he barely spent anything. His physique hadn’t changed, his abs were still rock-hard, and due to the strong highland UV rays, he’d even developed a sexy light bronze tan.

Did she think he had no hobbies, was dull?

Coming from a street thug background, he indeed lacked sophistication and culture, and couldn’t engage in grand discussions about literature, art, finance, and economics. The sports that people passionately discussed at gatherings were past his age of enthusiasm, and he disdained showing off like South American men as if they were heaven’s gift to earth.

Out in the world, there were countless witty, handsome, learned, wealthy, more charming men – Miao Jing had seen them.

Away from tiny Teng City, away from young Chen Yi’s chuunibyou radiance, he had long since dimmed.

Chen Yi wouldn’t admit his insecurities – but while cooking he slammed the cutting board with loud bangs, absent-mindedly ladled a bowl of water into the wok, and served a plate of blackened stew to the table, tossing two chopsticks to Miao Jing.

Finding an excuse to go out, saying he needed to buy something, Miao Jing watched his lazy figure, long fingers resting on his neck, sauntering out the door.

Looking at the indiscernible dish on the table, she blinked, calmly picked up her chopsticks, and ate. After finishing, she opened the refrigerator, found ingredients, and cooked a normal dish, leaving it on the table for Chen Yi to eat when he returned, then went to her room to work.

How could work not be busy? She was temporarily assigned here, with an intense project. First, there were language and cultural differences in the office, and second, the time difference with China meant she could only communicate with the Chinese team during non-work hours in the morning and evening. Even weekends required scheduling. The only time she could catch her breath was by his side. Maybe next month when things weren’t so busy, they could vacation at the beach together. Since coming to Bogotá, they’d been busy settling in, learning the language, adapting to new life, never really relaxing properly.

Chen Yi sat brooding in the park smoking two cigarettes, and bought some things at the fruit and vegetable stall before returning home. Turning to the kitchen, he saw his newly cooked dish dumped in the garbage bin. His relaxed posture stiffened again, tobacco-scented fingers unconsciously touching his lips, realizing no cigarette was there, hand sliding into his pocket, eyes lowered as he kicked the garbage bin further in.

Miao Jing sat at her desk with her computer open, completely unaware of his return. She was on the phone, chatting in a mix of Spanish and English, her laughter light, tone gentle. Chen Yi could understand about a third – something about meeting up.

He quietly closed the bedroom door, curled up in the living room watching movies, lazily propping up his long legs, hands behind his head, eyes gloomy, expression vacant, finally pulling out his cigarette pack to smoke.

Since coming to Bogotá, Chen Yi smoked less fiercely. First, the living environment had changed, second, his mind was more relaxed so the craving wasn’t as strong, and additionally, Miao Jing would always glance at him when he smoked. He understood – if he developed some illness, now that he was with her, if not for his own sake, he had to think of her.

At night in bed, touching her smooth fragrant skin, the stirring in his heart rose again. His strong arms pulled her slender waist into his embrace. Miao Jing turned into Chen Yi’s arms, hands against his chest, showing signs of resistance: “Let’s sleep.”

“Sleep after we’re done.” He planned to show his prowess. “I can’t sleep.”

“I’m tired today…”

“You just need to lie there.” His hoarse voice floated by her ear, hot breath trailing down her neck.

“No.” Miao Jing pressed down his restless hands, curling up her body, closing her eyes with a sigh. “Can you let me rest for a couple of days…”

The man’s lips weren’t thin, slightly dark in color, the lip lines appearing strong and full of desire. The corners of his mouth pulled down, pressing together, showing displeasure.

His jawline tensed coldly, eyes hard yet tinged with grievance, his fluffy head sulkily sliding down. Miao Jing’s resisting hands wavered in mid-air, her whole body trembling, and finally, her tender fingers gently threaded through his thick hair.

His moist lips returned to her flushed face, giving Miao Jing a dreamy lazy yawn, all her limbs languid as if floating in clouds. She mumbled a couple of words, turned over to find a comfortable position, slowly closed her eyes, already fallen into dreamland.

…

She fell asleep right after getting satisfied?!!

Chen Yi’s tongue pressed angrily against his back teeth, reaching out to “pat” turn off the bedside lamp, staring blankly at the pale bed curtains in the darkness.

Miao Jing successfully rested for several days – when Chen Yi wanted to “perform well” again, she focused intently on reading a book, pressed her palm against his approaching handsome face, pushing him away, saying casually: “I’m on my period.”

“Isn’t that at the end of the month?” The man’s brows furrowed deeply.

“It came early.” Her red lips couldn’t hide their delighted upturn. “Rest for a week.”

His large hand rubbed her soft belly a couple of times before flopping listlessly on the bed.

Miao Jing stroked his bristly hair: “Want to read with me?”

“Where’d you get the book? It’s in Spanish.” Chen Yi lowered his eyes. “When have I ever read books.”

“I bought it at a bookstore with friends from the language school. We went to a beautiful bookstore near Bolívar Plaza, there was even a small theater performing arts shows inside, and the coffee was really good. Maybe next time we can go browse together.”

“When did you go to the bookstore? Why didn’t I know?” Chen Yi’s brows furrowed deeper: “With that Swedish guy Mike?”

“And Marilyn.” She added casually. “If Gino hadn’t let it slip, I wouldn’t have known you’ve been playing pool at the hall lately.”

“You should play at a better place… I know a distributor who lives at the foot of Monserrate and has a villa estate with a members-only club that also has snooker tables. Maybe I could take you to see?”

Miao Jing didn’t oppose Chen Yi playing pool, she just didn’t want him gambling on games anymore, let alone getting involved in the mixed crowds of the slums. Foreigners could easily get into trouble locally.

Chen Yi closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep, not making a sound.

She gently poked his forehead with her fingertip.

“Just itching to play, not interesting, won’t play anymore.” He replied faintly, turning his back to her.

The week passed peacefully, and then Miao Jing received notice to go on a business trip to Medellín. Chen Yi asked if she needed him to accompany her, after all, Medellín was once the city of drug lords, with security concerns even more worrying than Bogotá’s. Miao Jing shook her head saying it wasn’t necessary – their landlord Pierre was going to the countryside for vacation this week and had invited Chen Yi along. They could ride motorcycles, fish, and go boating. Besides, she was traveling with colleagues, so there was nothing to worry about.

Before leaving, Miao Jing left some money at Chen Yi’s bedside, about 3 million pesos, telling him to have fun.

Whether Chen Yi had fun or not is beside the point, but Miao Jing had a good time. Medellín’s sunshine was brighter than Bogotá’s, allowing for lighter, freer clothing. She sent him photos of handmade embroidered swimsuits and dresses she’d bought. Chen Yi reminded her not to go out at night; Miao Jing obediently nodded in agreement, but a few hours later Chen Yi saw her colleague’s vlog on social media – Miao Jing wearing a bright, tight dress, wandering the streets late at night and chatting in bars.

Back in Bogotá during the rainy season, there was a heavy downpour every day, and the weather was gloomy and cold. After Miao Jing finished her bath, Chen Yi was still lounging on the sofa smoking.

His expression was slightly different, faintly decadent.

Even lying in bed he was listless. Miao Jing kept stealing glances at him, but his eyes remained aloof as he played games on his phone, not even glancing at her, naturally not noticing her new lingerie, a very delicate and sexy style.

On such a romantic night, Chen Yi played games for most of it. The next morning, Miao Jing had to make breakfast. When it was time to leave, he rolled out of bed and threw on a jacket, his stubbled chin and lazy appearance seeing her off. At their destination, he coldly snorted, turning to leave.

When picking her up from work in the afternoon, Chen Yi brought one of his jackets for her, silently leading her home.

Miao Jing rarely saw him like this.

A bit awkwardly cold, both arrogant and restrained in his grievance.

That night in bed, Miao Jing tried to tease Chen Yi, her fingers trailing over his body, but he endured without touching her, saying he was tired, coldly taking his phone to play games on the living room sofa.

The fireplace was lit, making the living room warmer than the bedroom. He curled up on the sofa, half-lying while smoking and scrolling through his phone.

Miao Jing got up wearing her nightgown, and walked over to sit on the sofa armrest, gently pinching his furrowed brow, asking softly: “What’s wrong?”

Chen Yi remained silent, taking a deep drag of his cigarette, heavily flicking off the ash.

“Did something bad happen?”

“Are you angry with me?”

His voice was impatient: “No.”

“Then what’s wrong? If something’s making you unhappy, let me comfort you.”

The man’s voice was cold: “Can’t be comforted.”

Miao Jing wanted to laugh but felt a slight ache in her heart: “How can it not be comforted?”

“Every day I put thought into cooking for you, you never said it was good, I eat all your leftovers, and you throw my food in the garbage.”

“I even wash your underwear, when have I ever done such things for a woman in my life.”

“You think I have no money, no culture, no hobbies, won’t let me play pool, go out with men to bookstores behind my back, disobey me when on business trips, whatever I tell you not to do you deliberately do.”

“In bed, you’re either tired or complain it’s too long, I’m the one doing all the work serving you, what are you tired from, or you just make excuses not to do it. Fine, do it if you want, if not then forget it.”

Hearing him hold back his grievances, saying “I” with every breath, Miao Jing’s eyes curved in a smile, directly lowering her head to seal his mouth with a kiss, gently lingering on his lips.

Her whole body pressed firmly against his.

She particularly liked this feeling of restraining him, liked seeing him frown and hold back his anger, explode in rage, his eyes red with grievance, still stubborn and unyielding.

“Chen Yi, you’re so cute,” she smiled, rubbing his nose.

“Get lost, how am I cute.” He gritted his teeth, his shoulders pushing her away, but his hands held her waist, keeping her in his arms so she wouldn’t fall.

She stayed sprawled on him, comfortably finding a position to nestle in, tugging his ear to whisper, first coaxing him to be docile, shh, then adding some adult-only dirty talk, finally submitting to play some games to please him… he was so cute, the same kind of cute as ten years ago.