Youyou used to be the kind of girl who would blush and feel shy just watching TV drama kisses. Back then, when reading certain parts in novels, her fingers would tremble with embarrassment and she’d skip straight ahead.
Later on, she could calmly reread the steamy bits in pure-water (non-explicit) novels over and over, even leaving comments below:
“Jinjiang is way too strict these days—I didn’t even catch a whiff of car exhaust.”
“This car is definitely headed straight to kindergarten.”
…
Even after consuming all kinds of content, Youyou thought she could now handle intimate contact with composure. But the moment her lips were sealed, she still went rigid—like a fish on the verge of death in shallow water.
Her cheeks were pinched between his fingers. His hands looked pale and slender, yet the grip was incredibly strong; there were faint calluses on his fingertips.
The light alcohol scent intertwined with cedarwood formed a dense, inescapable net that seemed to envelop her completely. Coolness gradually warmed. Youyou tried to escape, but her wrists were still pinned, her senses ruthlessly invaded by his breath.
She trembled with fear. Finally snapping back to reality, she bit down hard on his lip.
It worked.
A faint metallic taste of rust bloomed between their lips—his blood.
Xiao Zexing finally released her, propping himself up slightly. He still held her wrist, frowning: “Tang Youyou?”
He let go at last.
Youyou was furious and frantic. The second her wrist was free, she wrapped herself tightly in the blanket, scooting backward until her spine pressed against the wall. She was so angry she nearly cried: “What are you doing?!”
This time the sob in her voice was real.
Xiao Zexing slowly sat up. His figure froze for three full seconds. Then he reached out and turned on the main light.
Bright illumination chased away the room’s dimness. Youyou could finally see Xiao Zexing’s current state clearly.
He sat on the edge of the bed, a small cut on his lip—where she had just bitten him.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and said in a low, heavy voice: “Sorry. I drank too much. I thought I was dreaming.”
Youyou ignored him. She curled into herself, clutching the blanket, breathing deeply over and over to stop herself from attacking him.
The white-lotus persona could not collapse.
Still… she felt a little wronged.
Sour, with a hint of bitterness—like accidentally getting orange juice in your eyes while peeling one.
—She was supposed to be the girl hopelessly in love with Xiao Weijing. How could she get angry over a single kiss? A normal person would be happy or excited when kissed by the one they loved, right?
Youyou couldn’t force that kind of expression right now.
She just couldn’t.
She felt… uncomfortable.
Not because her first kiss was gone just like that—but because she had been kissed by “Xiao Weijing.”
By a man who already had another woman in his heart.
Even if he was her nominal fiancé.
Youyou gritted her teeth and covered her face: “No… I’m very happy.”
Happy enough to want to tear him into pieces and throw him into the sea to feed the fish.
In the midst of her misery, the mattress beside her dipped slightly.
The faint alcohol scent drew closer again.
Xiao Zexing wasn’t smiling. He leaned in even nearer.
He was watching her with the heavy, scrutinizing gaze of someone appraising prey.
Alarm bells screamed in Youyou’s head. She desperately shrank back—but the space was limited. There was nowhere left to go.
Xiao Zexing reached out. His fingers brushed her cheek, then the corner of her eye.
There was a tiny mole at the tail of Youyou’s right eye—barely noticeable, very faint in color. Normally hidden by makeup, but bare-faced, against her fair skin, it was impossible to conceal.
So were the tear tracks and the glimmer of moisture in her eyes.
Shimmering and moving.
Youyou panicked completely.
Was this guy planning to do something more with her right now?
That would be way too shameless.
Even though Youyou’s views weren’t particularly conservative, she still wanted her first time to be gentle and harmonious—something that happened naturally, with someone she admired or respected. Not with Xiao Weijing, who had Wen Ling in his heart.
In her terror, she had no choice but to pull out the excuse she’d prepared long ago. In a tiny voice she reminded him: “Mr. Xiao… I’m really afraid of pain, and I’m very conservative. I want to wait until after marriage… is that okay?”
As she spoke, tears fell—warm drops landing on Xiao Zexing’s fingers.
Xiao Zexing let go.
He said: “I won’t touch you. Rest well.”
That was good.
Youyou let out a soft breath of relief.
“It’s too late now,” Xiao Zexing continued. “You stay here and sleep. I’ll take the sofa. Tomorrow after we reach the island, I’ll have someone switch rooms.”
Youyou stared at him blankly, clearly not expecting this man to be so easy to talk to.
Xiao Zexing stood up. She couldn’t help sneaking a glance—and only then noticed that not only was his shirt disheveled, but his belt was also undone.
The realization made Youyou shrink instantly. She wrapped the blanket tighter and trembled.
Oh my god, drunk men are terrifying.
If she had woken up even a little later—
Youyou didn’t dare imagine.
The room she was in was spacious, but there was no proper partition—just gauzy curtains and beaded strings as dividers. Xiao Zexing walked straight out, opened the nearby wardrobe, and naturally took out a set of pajamas.
Through the gauzy curtain, he began unbuttoning his shirt.
His figure was blurred, but the movements were exceptionally clear. The man’s shadow fell across the edge of the bed, the faint alcohol scent and cedarwood intertwining, as if he were still right there.
The shirt came off and was tossed carelessly aside. He started undoing his belt.
Before the shadow could tilt further, she turned her face away and squeezed her eyes shut.
Youyou’s mouth felt dry and parched. She didn’t dare look anymore and could only secretly bury her head under the blanket.
She couldn’t help cursing herself viciously in her heart.
Tang Youyou, you’re so fucking low. In a situation like this, and you’re still drooling over his body!
Thanks to this little interlude, Youyou didn’t sleep well at all that night.
She usually had excellent sleep quality—few dreams, deep rest—but tonight was an exception. Perhaps because there was another man in the bedroom, Youyou had a lot of strange dreams that Jinjiang absolutely would not allow to be described in detail.
She couldn’t see the man’s face in the dream, but the sensations and sounds felt shockingly real—especially the sharp pain when someone pinched her waist hard.
Youyou curled up tightly, hugging herself, and vaguely heard someone calling her name in a low, slightly hoarse voice: “Youyou.”
The voice in the dream matched the one in reality perfectly. The dream shattered instantly. Youyou finally opened her eyes—and saw Xiao Zexing.
Today he was unusually dressed in a black shirt, standing right beside her bed at just the right distance—not too close to make her uncomfortable. He reminded her gently: “Wake up. Time to get off the boat.”
Youyou mumbled a dazed acknowledgment and slowly sat up.
The dreams had been too chaotic and jumbled. She rubbed her forehead, still groggy: “What time is it?”
“Nine o’clock.”
…Only nine and she had to get up already.
Youyou climbed out of bed sleepily. The silk-faced down comforter was soft and light; as she moved, one corner slipped down, swaying gently. A small, fair foot stepped onto the top of her shoe, tentatively sliding inside. She yawned, her top riding up slightly to reveal a strip of luminous, slender waist—marked with faint red finger imprints.
She didn’t notice at all how Xiao Zexing’s gaze darkened a fraction.
While Youyou went to wash up and change, Xiao Zexing had already left the room.
At least he knew to give her space.
It seemed this man’s character wasn’t beyond redemption after all.
Youyou pondered inwardly: Last night’s lapse was probably just because he was drunk. But even drunk, he called her name? Shouldn’t he have called for Wen Ling?
Or maybe men were simply creatures ruled by their lower halves—no matter who it was, they’d take it?
She was starting to genuinely hate Xiao Weijing.
At first she had thought it was fine if Xiao Weijing liked Wen Ling; she just disliked Wen Ling herself. But to have Wen Ling in his heart and still come kiss her…
Ugh.
The thought made Youyou brush her teeth twice as hard.
She deliberately took nearly half an hour dawdling over makeup and changing clothes, expecting the man outside to grow impatient. But when she finally stepped out, she was surprised to find Xiao Zexing on the phone.
“Big Brother, don’t worry—I’ll take good care of Youyou,” he said calmly. “You keep an eye on Grandfather too.劝 him not to go too hard.”
Youyou gave a light cough to announce herself.
Xiao Zexing glanced at her, said “Let’s talk next time,” and hung up.
The two walked out side by side. Youyou was desperately trying to hypnotize herself into forgetting last night’s mishap, numbing her nerves, when suddenly she heard Xiao Zexing’s faint voice: “What did you dream about last night?”
Youyou froze. “Huh?”
Dreams were like dew on leaves or petals—gathering drop by drop through the night, lingering perfectly in the early morning, but evaporating without a trace the moment the sun rose.
She couldn’t remember clearly anymore. She tried hard to recall, but the details slipped away—only the vague impression that it had been extremely intimate and absurd.
Why on earth was he asking about her dreams? Was he some kind of dream-eater? Or a dream-catcher?
Xiao Zexing slowed his pace. “You were talking in your sleep.”
Talking in her sleep?
Youyou’s eyelid twitched. A bad premonition rose in her chest.
Xiao Zexing drawled leisurely: “You said, ‘No.’”
Youyou: “…Huh?”
She wanted heavenly justice to strike her dead with lightning right then and there.
Youyou racked her brain and blurted out a lie: “Oh—I remember now. I dreamed I was at a restaurant ordering food. The waiter asked if I wanted cilantro, and I said no…”
Xiao Zexing lowered his head, gaze settling on her face as she looked nervous and flustered. He smiled. “And you called the cilantro ‘gege’ too?”
Youyou: “…”
Seeing Youyou on the verge of exploding from embarrassment, Xiao Zexing stopped teasing her. He stepped out of the cabin, spotted Deng Jue waving at him from afar, straightened his shirt hem, smiled, and walked away.
After disembarking and checking into the island hotel, Youyou immediately shut herself in her room, so mortified she didn’t even want to go outside.
Why did she have to share a room with “Xiao Weijing” of all people!
Why did she have to have such a weird dream and talk in her sleep where he could hear it!
After pulling herself together, Youyou took several deep breaths, silently convincing herself that this kind of inconsistent behavior might actually make “Xiao Weijing” hate her even more.
Just as she finally talked herself into going out, Deng Jue knocked on the door.
He was dressed in a loud floral shirt and big shorts, already fully embracing island life. He grinned at her: “Sis-in-law, wanna go fishing?”
The “sis-in-law” made Youyou deeply uncomfortable.
She didn’t really know Deng Jue, though she had seen him once before.
During that polo match, Deng Jue had been standing right beside “Xiao Weijing.”
Hearing him call her “sis-in-law” now, she figured he must be one of Xiao Weijing’s friends.
Once outside, the sun was still quite strong. Deng Jue spotted Xiao Zexing on the yacht, waved cheerfully, started to call his name—then remembered something and hastily switched: “Ge!”
Most people were dressed casually, but Xiao Zexing was the exception—still in a shirt and dress trousers. Only the sleeves were rolled up partway, revealing smoothly lined forearms.
Youyou glanced once and quickly looked away.
As Miao Jiaxi had once said, this man’s appearance and physique were top-tier in every way.
Youyou was genuinely afraid she might fall for him. She silently repeated in her mind several times: “He and Wen Ling are a couple,” forcefully snuffing out the dangerous thoughts.
Youyou had gone deep-sea fishing with Grandpa Xiao before, but this kind of outing was different from the usual ones. Normally they chartered a yacht, experienced crew would spot fish schools by watching flocks of low-flying seabirds, bait the hooks, cast the lines—everything handled by professionals. All the guests had to do was relax and wait for the bite, then reel in when notified.
Youyou had zero interest in that kind of fishing. She didn’t even glance at the rods. Instead she walked straight to the shaded area, lay down on a lounge chair to cool off. Even though she’d already applied plenty of sunscreen, the UV here was brutally strong.
Youyou didn’t tan—she just burned red and peeled.
The yacht slowly headed toward the pre-scouted spot and soon reached the destination.
On the aft deck, Hao Yun sidled up to Xiao Zexing with a grin. “I heard Second Uncle has been swamped with social obligations lately—got hammered by those old foxes from Xinjian last night. Didn’t expect you’d still find time to come out and play.”
The friends who were close to Xiao Weijing all called Xiao Zexing “Second Uncle” out of respect.
Putting aside everything else, Xiao Zexing’s actions over the years alone were enough to make them willingly address him that way.
Though he came from wealth, he lacked the usual spoiled, extravagant air.
He never touched any of those flashy, debauched things.
Xiao Zexing calmly finished preparing his rod. Unlike the others, he baited it himself, cast it into the sea, then turned to Hao Yun with a smile. “What, in your eyes I’m just a work-and-schmooze machine?”
“Not at all,” Hao Yun grinned wider. “Just figured since Second Uncle finally has some free time, we should take you out to unwind a bit.”
He lowered his voice deliberately: “You were abroad for so long and never found a girlfriend. You must still prefer girls from back home, right? What type do you like? Jǐngōng Xiùyuàn just got some new arrivals—different from the usual body-sushi style. You can drink sake from their collarbones and waist dips—”
“Hao Yun,” Xiao Zexing set down his rod, his smile fading halfway. “I’m not into that.”
Hao Yun froze, then hesitated: “Then you prefer men—”
Xiao Zexing peeled off his gloves and tossed them aside, speaking unhurriedly: “If you’ve got time to worry about my private life, why not spend it helping your father more?”
A server brought water over. He carefully washed his hands, dried them thoroughly with a towel, folded it neatly back in place, then stood and walked to the other side.
Hao Yun followed his line of sight and finally noticed someone lying under the sun umbrella—only a pair of long, fair legs visible, tender as fresh tofu.
Deng Jue happened to be standing on deck smoking. Hao Yun, full of suspicion, whispered to him: “Did Second Uncle bring a female companion today?”
Ash fell from the cigarette, burning his hand.
Deng Jue flicked it off and stepped back. “No.”
“Then who’s that girl over there?”
Deng Jue squinted, then laughed. “That’s Tang Youyou.”
Tang Youyou? Xiao Weijing’s fiancée?
Hao Yun jumped.
He steadied himself and looked again. Xiao Zexing had sat down on a nearby chair, while Tang Youyou sat up from the lounge chair, holding a book.
There was enough space between them to fit a cow.
That strange, fleeting thought vanished from his mind almost instantly.
Hao Yun sighed in genuine admiration.
Second Uncle really embodied the perfect family patriarch—going out of his way to comfort his nephew’s fiancée.
Truly worthy of being Second Uncle.
The very same Xiao Zexing whom Hao Yun sincerely admired smiled and asked Youyou: “Not into fishing?”
Youyou couldn’t quite read “Xiao Weijing’s” mood right now.
But she didn’t need to overthink it—just keep acting.
So she covered her face with her hand and spoke in a delicate, affected tone: “Because the sun will burn my skin~ I hate UV rays the most~”
She cranked up the artificial sweetness even further.
Xiao Zexing glanced at her tender, delicate skin.
Beneath the white top, the red finger marks from last night hadn’t fully faded—strikingly eye-catching.
He smiled. “That’s true.”
The calm response wasn’t what Youyou wanted at all.
She clenched her fists, recalling something she’d read in a book yesterday, and started fabricating: “Mr. Xiao, you’ve been keeping me company like this lately… won’t Wen Ling get upset?”
Xiao Zexing lifted his glass and took a sip. “Of course not.”
Propping her elbow on the armrest, Youyou sat up straighter, turned her face sideways, and fanned herself lightly with the small fan in her hand. “Actually, Wen Ling and I have always been friends~ But it seems like she doesn’t really like me much…”
She was getting a little thirsty. Spotting a glass of wine on the table, she reached for it—only for Xiao Zexing to signal the server. The server came over and promptly removed the wine.
Youyou swallowed her irritation and continued the white-lotus performance: “I don’t mean to interfere with you and Wen Ling at all~ I’m not saying bad things about her either. It’s just… um, you know how it is. Our relationship is a bit… special. So maybe Wen Ling feels a little unhappy about it. We don’t have any real issues between us—it’s just that I’ve heard some not-so-nice things about her in the past—”
“Youyou,” Xiao Zexing interrupted her. His dimples deepened, voice turning slightly husky. “You’re the legitimate fiancée. Why are you acting like you’re the one in the wrong?”
Youyou froze.
A server approached again, bent down with a tray. Xiao Zexing took a glass of milk from it, plucked the small fan from her hand, and placed the milk in her palm instead.
“You haven’t done anything wrong, and you don’t need to say things like that,” Xiao Zexing spoke calmly and unhurriedly. “Kids shouldn’t drink alcohol. This is what you should be having.”
Youyou felt deeply offended.
Was “Xiao Weijing” finding creative ways to call her immature and childish?!
While she was stunned, Xiao Zexing set down his half-finished wine glass, stood up, and walked away to check on his fishing rod.
Hao Yun was still smoking. Seeing him approach, he looked puzzled: “Second Uncle, why aren’t you resting? Someone else can watch the rod for you here.”
Everyone else did it that way—only symbolically taking hold of the line once the fish bit. If they were lucky enough to hook a big marlin, they didn’t even need to lift a finger; the professional crew would just haul it up.
Xiao Zexing smiled as he put on his gloves. “Compared to the result, the process of waiting for the fish to bite is far more interesting.”
Yesterday, Wen Ling had a sudden appendicitis attack and was in so much pain she couldn’t straighten up.
She was an orphan with no one to rely on. The girl at the gym was terrified. In that emergency, Wen Ling had no choice but to call Xiao Weijing for help.
Xiao Weijing had almost reached the airport when he got the news. He immediately told the driver to turn around, picked Wen Ling up, and rushed her to the hospital.
Even though it was just a minor surgery, Xiao Weijing pulled strings and got the director of abdominal surgery to handle it personally.
When Wen Ling was wheeled in, her face was deathly pale from the pain. “I’m really sorry for troubling you… It’s all Little Yue’s fault—she was so worried she grabbed my phone and called you right away.”
“Stop talking nonsense,” Xiao Weijing said, nerves taut. “Save your strength for the surgery.”
Wen Ling gave a weak, pale smile. In a faint voice she called his name: “Hey, Old Xiao… you don’t think I’m going to die, do you?”
“What nonsense!” Xiao Weijing’s face was stiff as he scolded her. “You’re perfectly fine—stop saying ominous things.”
She was taken in. The surgery was quick—nothing serious, after all.
Xiao Weijing naturally arranged a VIP ward for Wen Ling and hired premium nursing care. Once everything was settled, he dragged his exhausted body back to his apartment.
He collapsed into bed and slept straight through until the next morning. Only then did Xiao Weijing finally remember the fiancée he had completely ignored—Tang Youyou. But before he could figure out how to deal with her, he received a message from Hao Yun.
Hao Yun: “Your fiancée doesn’t seem angry at all.”
Hao Yun: “Honestly, I think Tang Youyou is pretty magnanimous.”
Hao Yun: “Maybe reconsider?”
Xiao Weijing replied: “Let’s talk later.”
Xiao Weijing rubbed his brow.
A huge part of why he disliked Tang Youyou was her extremely nasty attitude toward Wen Ling.
Wen Ling was so straightforward and open—she would never say such things herself. It was the girls at Wen Ling’s gym who told Xiao Weijing: they had seen Tang Youyou argue with Wen Ling and make her cry.
To reduce someone as bold and carefree as Wen Ling to tears—Tang Youyou’s tongue must be vicious indeed.
Yet in front of the elders she always played the sweet, obedient darling. In front of him she was soft, gentle, delicate and pitiful…
Apart from her beauty, she had nothing going for her.
And it was exactly the kind of fragile, pitiful beauty he despised.
In Xiao Weijing’s mind, beauty should be bright, sunny, and generous.
Tang Youyou was beautiful, yes—but utterly soulless.
Xiao Weijing knew he had really messed up this time. He went home obediently to face the music.
The moment he arrived, Old Master Xiao summoned him to the study and gave him a thorough thrashing with the bamboo board.
The old man believed firmly that filial piety came from the rod. For disciplining the younger generation at home, he used a two-finger-wide, one-meter-long bamboo board—and the outer clothes had to come off.
More than a dozen solid strokes later, Old Master Xiao cursed him until he was out of breath, trembling as he pointed at the door: “Get out! When Youyou comes back, you will kneel in front of her and apologize!”
The old man was getting on in years and might fall ill from anger. The nurse immediately handed him medicine and water, urging him to drink slowly.
Xiao Weijing was beaten black and blue this time. As soon as he stepped out, before he could even catch his breath, Zhao Manlan slapped his shoulder while crying: “You child, what’s wrong with you? Huh?”
Xiao Weijing sucked in a sharp breath, face twisting in pain: “Mom, you hit my wound.”
Zhao Manlan immediately stepped back two paces. Looking at him, tears streamed down her face in heartache: “Weijing, go rest first. I’ll call Youyou and explain.”
Xiao Weijing was exhausted and too lazy to deal with Tang Youyou anyway. “Fine.”
He personally thought there was no real need to say anything.
The family doctor followed him with a medical kit, never leaving his side, and went to his room to apply ointment.
Everyone knew Old Master Xiao would lash out in a rage, so salves and medicines were always kept ready.
Zhao Manlan wiped away the tears threatening to spill, sighed heavily, and only after calming down did she call Tang Youyou to apologize.
The call connected quickly. Youyou’s voice sounded very relaxed: “Auntie, what’s wrong?”
What a good child. Even after her son had done something so rotten, she remained so innocent and forgiving.
Zhao Manlan truly felt her own son didn’t deserve such a girl.
Zhao Manlan spoke with genuine embarrassment: “I’m so sorry, Youyou. I never imagined Weijing would just leave you there alone… Grandfather has already punished him severely. Youyou, please don’t be upset…”
On the other end of the phone, Youyou was completely stunned by the sheer volume of explosive information in that one sentence.
Auntie meant—
Xiao Weijing never boarded the yacht?
Then the “Xiao Weijing” who came to her room last night… was who?
All these days, the man who had shown absolutely no disgust toward her behavior from the very beginning… wasn’t Xiao Weijing?
Youyou gripped the phone tightly and instinctively looked toward Xiao Zexing.
He was standing on the aft deck, having just successfully hooked a yellowfin tuna.
The tuna was still thrashing on the deck, tail flicking. Deng Jue and Hao Yun were praising it loudly while the crew tried to get it into the prepared fish basket.
Xiao Zexing lowered his head, calmly baiting a fresh hook.
Author’s Note: Tiny Little Mini Side Story
He pinched the bridge of his nose and said in a low, heavy voice: “Sorry. I drank too much. I thought I was dreaming.”
—He had had many such dreams.
About Tang Youyou.
Doing things far more excessive than what happened in reality, one after another.