This was not the first time He Siyu had called her “Mrs. He.” He had also used that title in the morning at home.
It was just that each time, he became more skilled—and gentler.
Ni Yang raised her head and turned slightly to look at the man’s striking, high-tension face.
His lips carried a faint smile. Beneath his prominent brow bone were deep, dark brown eyes.
He was also looking at her now, tilting his head slightly in confusion.
She was someone who could let go when needed. In front of people who treated her well, she was never stingy with her affection.
She had spent a month chatting with He Siyu across the ocean, separated by a seven-to-eight-hour time difference.
Every message she sent was replied to. He reported his schedule to her, even told her what he ate that day.
In front of her, he was not the cold and impersonal man others described. Instead, he responded to everything and never left anything unanswered.
Their marriage was exactly as she had imagined—mutually supportive, calm, and harmonious.
Seeing Ni Yang staring at him in a daze, He Siyu spoke softly.
“What are you thinking about?”
That sentence pulled Ni Yang’s wandering thoughts back. Her gaze refocused on his face.
“I was thinking that choosing you as my marriage partner was the best decision I’ve ever made.”
He Siyu froze for a moment, as if he had not expected her to say that.
He teased, “Seems like I’m quite satisfying to Mrs. He.”
Ni Yang replied very seriously, “Yes, I’m satisfied. It’s not easy to find a partner in a vast crowd who shares the same mindset as me.”
He Siyu slightly frowned.
“Same mindset?”
“Mm. In marriage, suspicion and not speaking honestly are toxic traits. That sentence—you still remember it, right? You said it to me.”
He clearly saw admiration and joy filling Ni Yang’s clear, lively eyes.
He remembered it.
It was something he had said when Wen Shuhua tried to sow discord between him and Ni Yang.
At that time, he had said it to prevent Ni Yang from overthinking things she might have overheard, and from being afraid to ask him for the truth.
Rather than torturing herself with imagination, it was better to speak directly.
He had wanted Ni Yang to trust him and open her heart to him.
The most dangerous thing between people was believing how others described someone.
A mouth was not only for eating.
In his narrow, sharp eyes, there was an uncontrollable surge of excitement.
Almost a month had passed—and she still remembered what he had said. Did that mean he held some place in her heart?
Unfortunately, tonight he had not brought his medication. He could not recklessly indulge in her scent, her body temperature, or kiss her.
He lowered his gaze slightly. His deep eyes were like an abyss of restrained turbulence.
His dry, hoarse voice responded gently.
“I remember. So that means you think the same way too, right?”
Ni Yang nodded obediently without hesitation.
“Mm. This is our mutual understanding. From now on, no matter what happens, don’t overthink alone. Tell each other directly. I believe you, and you must believe me too. Trust is very important.”
“Alright. Pinky promise.”
He Siyu smiled and extended his hand toward her, curling his pinky in invitation.
Ni Yang froze. ( ?д? )
So childish!
Despite her helplessness, she still reached out and hooked her pinky with his.
Her thumb pressed against his raised thumb.
The soft, slightly cool touch beneath her fingertip made He Siyu’s throat go dry.
“Done.”
Ni Yang withdrew her hand, placed her phone on the bedside table, and turned off the wall lamp on her side.
“Let’s sleep. Good night.”
She turned her back to him and lay down.
“Good night.”
As He Siyu turned off the light, the room was instantly swallowed by darkness.
The faint rustling beside her became especially clear in the silent night.
Ni Yang lay on her side with her eyes closed, all she could hear was the man’s steady breathing.
Listening to it, she gradually grew drowsy, slowly losing consciousness.
When he heard the girl’s steady breathing, He Siyu opened his eyes in the dark and turned to look at her.
“Yangyang? Yangyang?”
Only breathing answered him.
He slowly shifted closer to her.
When he touched her slender back, he stopped, pausing for a moment and patiently waiting for any reaction from her.
After a while, Ni Yang remained still.
Like a ghost hidden in the darkness, he slid his hand under the blanket, slowly slipping it into her sleepwear and resting it lightly on her soft waist.
He gently squeezed it, his palm and fingertips feeling skin as delicate as warm jade.
He waited for her to turn over and fall into his arms.
He was patient.
As he moved gently, Ni Yang’s shoulder trembled slightly.
He immediately stopped, holding his breath, waiting.
After a while, she turned over, and her arm landed directly on him.
Her warm breath brushed against his collarbone.
The air around them suddenly turned hot and dense, as if the night itself had been boiled.
In the darkness, He Siyu’s gaze grew unfocused.
Ni Yang seemed unable to find a comfortable position and kept moving in his arms.
Her soft lips occasionally brushed against his chest and neck without intention.
She made faint, soft sounds—gentle and delicate.
Afraid she might wake up, he closed his eyes and slightly leaned back. Unexpectedly, she followed him.
In the end, he lay exactly in the center of the two pillows, and Ni Yang was curled in his arms, her arm resting around his waist.
This was your own doing.
He Siyu lowered his head and kissed her forehead and lips, then calmly held her and fell asleep.
The next morning, perhaps because something was on her mind, Ni Yang suddenly woke up.
When she opened her eyes, a noble and flawless face was right in front of her.
Her foggy mind instantly cleared. She stared directly at He Siyu’s sleeping face.
His features were sharp and well-defined, his brows deep and intense. Long, dense eyelashes rested like fans, and messy bangs lazily fell over his brow bone.
His straight nose sat above tightly pressed lips that were faintly red, with very few lip lines.
After a night, faint stubble had begun to appear on his face, but it did not affect his appearance—instead, it gave him a slightly mature, “dad-like” charm.
Ni Yang did not dare move at all, her mind completely blank.
Why was she in He Siyu’s arms?
Did she initiate this?
She usually slept very properly.
Or was it him?
It didn’t seem like it.
She noticed his eyelashes twitch slightly.
She wanted to close her eyes and pretend to be asleep, but at the same time, she wanted to know what expression he would have when he saw her in his arms.
So she kept her eyes open and watched as he slowly woke up.
The two of them met in close-up eye contact, their breathing intertwined.