"A'Yao…"
"I want to eat A'Yao's." He said in a low voice.
Chu Yao glanced at him. Zhou Wenshi's expression didn't change, his gaze firm, letting her look at him, his eyes focused with a bright, intent light.
"I've really never met anyone like you," she conceded.
Chu Yao held her own hand-grabbed pancake in her left hand, and fed Zhou Wenshi's pancake with her right. She took a bite of hers, then simply extended her right hand over for Zhou Wenshi to eat from.
He would eat; she just had to hold it out.
She also had to spare him some attention, or else he'd poke the back of her hand to get her to look at him.
He was like a little puppy, except he didn't bark.
Of course, if she made a suggestion, he'd probably agree to it.
Chu Yao was enjoying her pancake, not looking at him, so he reminded her of his presence this way.
She turned her head to look. His cheeks were puffed out, eyes unblinking, taking small bites of the pancake. Only when she looked did he swallow a bite down.
Chu Yao: "…" She really wanted to slap the pancake right onto his face.
Pushy.
Zhou Wenshi was something else.
Chu Yao stared at him steadily for two seconds. He sped up his biting, going from small nibbles to bigger mouthfuls.
As if to say, he really was eating.
A hand-grabbed pancake wasn't that big to begin with; even with his dawdling, it was only a few bites.
Chu Yao simply waited for him to finish first before slowly eating her own pancake, so she wouldn't have to eat in unease.
This time it was quiet.
She could finally properly enjoy this precious hand-grabbed pancake.
Chu Yao almost shed tears with every bite.
It was so hard-won, wuwu!
Actually, she wanted to eat something else later too.
Chu Yao looked around. One pancake had unknowingly been eaten down to the last bite. In a moment of distraction, her left hand suddenly felt lighter—Zhou Wenshi had gone "om nom" and eaten the last bit.
Now, her left hand was empty.
Chu Yao: "…" Wait, he had to snatch the last bite too? Was there no justice in this world?
She'd wanted to get angry, but he looked at her with such clean, purely happy eyes, like a mischievous trick had succeeded—crafty and secretly pleased. Paired with that fair, clean face, Chu Yao stared for quite a few moments. She really couldn't muster any anger.
Only helplessness remained.
Sigh. How could he be like this? He was playing foul.
No wonder they said that with a face this handsome in front of you, you could eat your meal easily and not get angry easily either.
It truly was a wise saying.
Her right hand grabbed his cheek: "You only know how to eat from mine."
He didn't get angry either, looking innocent and harmless, well-behaved, even smiling at her.
Chu Yao couldn't bring herself to pinch him, nor could she let go. In the end, she pinched twice: "Zhou Wenshi, you're really greedy."
He softly acknowledged: "Mm, greedy for A'Yao's. A'Yao gives me."
Her gaze at him was filled with helpless tenderness: "You're really… I don't even know what to say to you."
Zhou Wenshi craved the gentleness and silent indulgence she gave him. He only wanted to hold her, bury his face in her shoulder, breathe her in.
The net woven by her outward gentleness wasn't enough. He wanted to break into it, to touch the more real parts beneath her gentleness, the softer interior.
She would give him plenty of tolerance and warmth, but those came from her personality and how she treated people.
She could give them to anyone casually.
He wanted something deeper—something different that she could give.
He knew she had it; she just hadn't given it to him.
He didn't know how to get it.
The surroundings were noisy, figures blurred, scenes shifting.
Still the cafeteria, but clearly later in time.
She swung a leg over and sat down across from him, shoving a hand-grabbed pancake toward him. "Here, I got this specially for you. If you want to eat, don't be shy."
In the gray, muted scene, the moment she walked in, the sun behind her gained warmth, and the colors of the frame turned vivid and bright.
The cafeteria grew brighter.
The world came alive.
Outside, birdsong rang crisp and clear, waking the stiff, gray morning from its stupor.
He watched her.
The steaming hand-grabbed pancake, thrust into his palm with eager impatience, carried the same crisp, joyful delight of sharing—radiating from her, alive and vibrant in the morning air.
Passionate. Vivid.
What was he thinking then?
He was thinking—
"A'Yao."
"Hm? What's wrong?"
She looked at him, bewildered, when he suddenly rose, pulled her by the nape of her neck, and kissed her.
She seemed frozen, not having processed what was happening.
His lips touched hers, and he called her name in a low voice.
"A'Yao." He caught her lip between his, inhaling a gentle, warm fragrance.
From her. From the very first day he'd met her, he'd caught this scent.
Extremely subtle. Faint.
Now he could finally smell it again.
The closer he drew to her, the richer and warmer it became, carrying her peaceful aura, tasted by him alone.
Unique, like mellow wine, intoxicating.
He wanted to breathe it in deeply.
Zhou Wenshi couldn't help but hold her tighter, press closer, breathing her in carefully, his lips sealed over hers as he called out once more.
"A'Yao…"
The embrace held no weight, yet he dared not hold too firmly. As he held her, his heartbeat raced irregularly, stirred by her like a Gu's pull.
He savored her carefully, grinding against her warm, steaming lips, which had nearly become a little dessert.
He loved this dessert.
Sweet, and addictive.
And her unique scent, the one he loved most—all of it was his.
He had all the time in the world to savor it.
Zhou Wenshi pecked at her lips, drawing out the sweet nectar within, growing addicted.
The morning sun poured its warmth across the cafeteria floor.
He held her and kissed her with total absorption.
Merely catching her lips was no longer enough.
He wanted more.
He finally tasted the filling inside the dessert—even more delicious.
Zhou Wenshi eagerly savored the filling, tasting deeper and deeper.
So fragrant… utterly fragrant.
How could it be this fragrant…
His. All his.
Zhou Wenshi was nearly greedy, desperate, heedless of everything else, frantically seeking the secret to this deliciousness.
Cradling the back of her head, he searched, swallowed, growing more and more addicted.
He called out: "A'Yao… A'Yao…"
For a moment, Chu Yao was dazed. Her lips and tongue were hot, and there was something eagerly extending deeper… a tongue-tip.
Wait… why was she… with Zhou Wenshi…
Her mind was muddled, her thoughts unclear, only a vague sense that something was wrong.
She could only passively keep parting her lips, receiving a fervor and an intruder that weren't hers.
"Zhou… Zhou…" He held the back of her head, licking and devouring, never letting her get a word in, forcing her to share against her will.
The tongue-tip wasn't hers.
The root of the tongue wasn't hers either.
Even everything it produced wasn't hers.
It was Zhou Wenshi, this outsider—not satisfied with what he had, biting her, and… pushing deeper toward her throat.
Greedy taking.
Endless thirst.
"Zhou… mm…" The moment she opened her mouth, he ate deep.
But she kept feeling that something was off, as if… this wasn't how it should be.
She couldn't explain why, her mind a little dazed.
All she could do was push back on instinct.
But once he bit down, he wouldn't let go, pulling her toward himself.
Chu Yao felt like she had become food.
Something Zhou Wenshi wanted to devour to his heart's content.
He drew from her on instinct, doing the unfinished things from his imagination.
He didn't know how to kiss—he only knew how to greedily take.
He wanted everything.
So he fought for it, claimed it, possessed it.
Devoured her completely.
She wasn't just fragrant—she was even more… gentle.
He was like a man drunk on wine, knowing only to seek her out, never satisfied, focused and intoxicated.
He rubbed his nose against hers.
Begging to never let go.
Forever.
This was how they were meant to be.
Zhou Wenshi cupped her face and brushed against her lips lightly.
Her lip color had originally been a light honey tone, gleaming with a soft luster, tinged with a thin red, like an apple.
But after being worked over, that thin red had transformed into a bewitchingly vivid crimson.
The color was too rich, making her skin look even paler.
Paired with her serene, elegant features, that splash of vivid color made her look all the more alluring, her lips glistening as if about to drip, like flower dew.
Zhou Wenshi was a little drunk.
He had dyed A'Yao a different color.
A red that belonged only to him.
At that thought, his throat went dry, and he felt a surge of excitement, wanting to…
Taste those vividly colored lips and the sweet nectar within.
The fresh sweetness—he wasted not a single drop, swallowing it all cleanly.
He couldn't help but peck at those vivid lips, and the filling inside, smacking softly.
…Never enough.
He sucked at the root of her tongue, wanting more.
He begged in a low voice: "A'Yao… give me a little more love."
Everything illusory shattered like a mirror breaking.
——【Dream Boundary Line】——
"!!"
Chu Yao woke with a start.
She snapped her eyes open. Holy shit, why would she dream about something like that with Zhou Wenshi?!
And such an invested kiss, at that.
Chu Yao couldn't describe it.
It was too much. He was too passionate, over the top—she simply couldn't take it in.
So much so that the moment the dream became vivid, Zhou Wenshi was already before her, rubbing his nose against hers, and the moment he opened his mouth, there was his bewitchingly glossy lip bead.
Before she could even react, she had already parted her lips and received him, along with his drawing from her.
She could only passively accept the affection that belonged to him.
Zhou Wenshi cupped her face, pouring all his love into that kiss with the most fervent sincerity, onto her lips.
He swallowed her sounds, exchanging with her in full immersion.
His fair face was flushed with a thin red, like drifting clouds at dusk, a delicate layer of color.
In his eyes danced the light of genuine, surging emotion, his focus narrowed until only she remained, utterly bewitching.
His lip bead parted and closed.
Swallowing her down.
Between interwoven breaths, he took in even more.
He wanted to hold her tightly, but in the end, he didn't. His embrace didn't suffocate—it was instead remarkably light.
She had never imagined that urgency and restraint could exist together.
Yet there it was, in Zhou Wenshi.
And he was still holding her face like that.
It was truly… unbelievable.
It was hard to connect the person in the dream with the one in reality.
He couldn't even do handicrafts—how could he possibly know how to kiss?
Chu Yao comforted herself. God, that scared her to death. She almost thought she had actually kissed Zhou Wenshi.
If that happened in real life, she wouldn't just be startled—she would never let it happen.
A dream was a dream; she couldn't take it seriously.
It's just… how could he kiss so… obscenely?
Chu Yao's feelings were complicated.
First the kiss, then him calling her name so intimately, all while being so close to her.
This was just too strange.
Fortunately, aside from that kiss in the dream, she couldn't remember the rest very clearly.
What had just happened in the dream was vivid at first, but after waking up, it was mostly fading away—the earlier parts were already completely forgotten.
All that remained was that one line from him—
"A'Yao… love me."
It seemed like, in the dream, she had forgotten to react.
Perhaps it was because she was too shocked.
Chu Yao couldn't recall it clearly anymore—the feelings in the dream were hazy, except for that kiss, which was exceptionally vivid.
As if he wanted to devour her.
Continuously pressing deeper…
Chu Yao covered her face with both hands, leaning back against the wall.
The heat rising in her chest spread to the surface of her skin.
In the pitch-black night, in the silent darkness, complicated emotions began to breed.
It was now so quiet that all she could hear was her own long, slow breathing.
The kiss and breathing sounds from the dream were like raindrops, drifting onto her skin, surrounding her.
Chu Yao felt a little hot—it was affecting her ability to think.
Especially her chest, which was clearly behaving abnormally.
Her breathing was still relatively calm.
She whispered to herself: "I'm never doing this kind of mission again…"
No more intimate-relationship ones, ever again.
The first time she took on something like this, she ran into this situation—it was like running into a ghost out on the street.
The key issue was that the mission never said there would be excessive contact with the male lead—weren't these missions supposed to have almost no contact at all?
It had made her feel strange too, actually dreaming about a scene like this out of nowhere.
Chu Yao didn't dare imagine how earth-shattering it would be if this scene actually happened in reality.
He would be completely corrupted! He would be defiled! That would be a huge problem!
A defiled male lead—was he still a male lead?
A male lead without his purity and first time was disqualified.
He would never be able to become the protagonist again.
A disqualified male lead came with serious consequences.
Chu Yao had seen too many disqualifications.
It was only ever the female lead who could choose not to want him—never the other way around. That was how the world had always worked.
Unfortunately, she really hadn't read the original plot, or else she would know even more.
After analyzing everything, Chu Yao calmed down and could go back to sleep.
She prayed she wouldn't dream of another scene that would startle her like that again.
It was a little frightening.
She lay back down and fell asleep.
Dormitory 504, male building.
The night was deep and still.
Zhou Wenshi quietly stared at the top of his bed curtain, the remnants of the dream still lingering at the corners of his eyes. His heart pounded heavily in his chest, exceptionally clear in the silent night.
The rising heat continuously built up, forming a feverish temperature across the surface of his body.
His heart thumped violently, and his chest felt scorching hot.
Because of the dream—in the dream, he had kissed Chu Yao.
He was a little dazed.
In the dream, when he saw A'Yao, all his attention was fixed entirely on her.
His only thought was to pull her close, kiss her, suck her lips red until they became as lush and wanton as his own.
He could cover the original marks over and over again.
Making her become just like him.
When he saw her, he ached with desire, constantly thinking about how to kiss her, to swallow everything in her mouth.
If she wouldn't give it, he would take it himself.
Tracing the outline of her lips again and again, begging her for a "reward."
He had been utterly unreasonable, pressing A'Yao down, not letting her move, and… kissing her, devouring her lips.
He was like a dog, knowing only how to lick and kiss her, begging for her soft lips and her love.
Zhou Wenshi's expression was slightly unnatural, with a faint flush that was barely visible.
How could he do such a thing—forcibly kissing her, slipping his tongue inside, touching her… tongue tip, the root of her tongue, and the sweet nectar in her mouth.
He wouldn't even let her do it herself.
He was like a bandit, a robber!
He was far too excessive in his devouring.
A'Yao was nearly… kissed senseless by him, pliant and yielding to his every demand.
Zhou Wenshi felt even more uneasy.
How could he act like… like a wild beast in his dream? Not showing the slightest "consideration" for her feelings.
The terrifying part was, while he was tasting her, he… had… an indecent… reaction.
In the dream, he didn't dare let her notice.
Fortunately, she didn't notice either.
Zhou Wenshi felt somewhat embarrassed. This wasn't good—he couldn't treat A'Yao like this.
In the dream, he had lost his head so completely, recklessly chasing after A'Yao's sweet breath and nectar, that it left him dizzy and entranced.
After waking, that feeling was also…
He pressed his lips together, not daring to dwell on it too much.
He couldn't forget the moment his lips first met A'Yao's—that indescribable sense of fulfillment.
As if… even if it cost him his life at any moment, he would go willingly.
He wished… he wished…
He could grind himself to pieces and give them all to her.
He was still…
Zhou Wenshi's face was slightly flushed, his vividly colored lips even redder in the darkness. He made no sound.
He turned over, hugged the pillow on his bed, buried his face into it, and endured in silence.
Those feelings stirred by A'Yao, the surging undercurrents, still coursed through every part of him.
Zhou Wenshi's rationality remained intact—he didn't let out a single breath.
This wasn't a private place; of course he wouldn't lose his composure like that.
He simply buried himself in the pillow, lips parting and closing, silently calling out—A'Yao.
The restlessness spread with incredible speed—forceful! fervent! swift!
Like sparks that suddenly ignite, in an instant setting the whole mountain ablaze.
The fire burned fiercely!
He pressed his lips together, his beautiful lashes trembling, the deep black of his eyes so dense it was almost overwhelming, like a devouring vortex.
His arms tensed, lines smooth and fluid, veins rising—like a sleek hunting leopard.
His heart pounded violently.
For a long, long time.
The dormitory was utterly silent.
…Everything returned to calm.
The corners of Zhou Wenshi's eyes were tinged red, his lips vividly colored, a flush spreading across the side of his neck. The afterglow had just begun to settle.
He could only sit up first, carrying the lingering heat, and head to the bathroom.
A cold shower.
Cool water washed over his brows and eyes, droplets clinging to his lowered lashes, washing away the heat radiating from his skin.
…He couldn't help but recall that kiss deepened in his dream.
He was as greedy as a dog, endlessly demanding, not letting her escape.
Her parted lips never closed, and what lay within no longer belonged to her.
He never gave her a chance to speak, over and over and over…
Zhou Wenshi's lashes trembled. He pressed his lips together, and his fingertips brushed over his mouth.
He was actually… savoring the memory.
Zhou Wenshi closed his eyes.
…He really was wicked.
What came to mind now wasn't remorse, but that next time he would be just as excessive.
Even more so.
To take A'Yao…
Just thinking about it, a surge rose in his chest—an indescribable thrill.
The cold water masked his erratic heartbeat.
A heavy blow struck him, leaving his head spinning.
His always-excellent memory performed at its peak in this moment.
He remembered clearly how he had tasted her…
And he remembered how she had let him.
At first she hadn't reacted, and then—there was no "then" after that. She was forced to receive his demands.
She truly hadn't been ready.
And only now did he realize—this was what he was capable of.
So wicked, so excessive, that A'Yao could only… take him in, swallow him, and sometimes couldn't even manage that.
He showed no pity whatsoever, instead drawing from her greedily, excessively.
Zhou Wenshi's lips parted slightly, the cupid's bow shifting as a thin seam opened, as if mimicking the sucking motion from his dream. The vivid red tip of his tongue lightly traced across his lips, as though tasting it once more.
As if A'Yao were standing right before him.
A strange aura permeated the air.
He regarded the thoughts stirred by A'Yao with perfect composure.
The chill from the cold water in the air could not restrain the heat that climbed swiftly.
It surged upward in waves.
Rising until his pale, cold-white face flushed red and burned hot, his lips deepened to a vivid hue, and at the bottom of his eyes churned a heavy, dense, altogether different color.
Utterly, desire.
He still had the presence of mind to think calmly.
He was glad.
Glad that A'Yao didn't know what he did to her in his dreams.
He would never let her find out.