The television played on, but Ji Ying had no mind to watch. The quartz clock in the living room ticked steadily. She sat on the sofa, staring blankly at the minute hand crawling forward like a snail. She glanced toward the study. The new apartment had excellent soundproofing—she couldn’t hear a thing from inside.
Suddenly, *tick*—the clock struck nine.
Ji Ying slowly turned off the TV, her footsteps light as she rose from the sofa. This large apartment had four rooms: the master bedroom and study on one side, two guest rooms on the other.
She stood in the middle of the hall, craning her neck toward the guest rooms. Both doors were shut. Were they really not furnished…?
After hesitating, she finally walked to the master bedroom. Her pale wrist opened the wardrobe door, eyes lifting to rows of pajamas. She agonized over the choice. She usually wore silk nightdresses, and most here were of that style. But they were thin, revealing much of the back.
Ji Ying bit her lip, unable to decide. At last, she shut her eyes, grabbed one at random, and hurried into the bathroom.
Moments later, hurried footsteps sounded again. Ji Ying ran out, shirt buttons half undone, hair loose, quickly snatching a set of underwear from the wardrobe. She had almost forgotten that…
Half an hour later.
Ji Ying stood before the misty bathroom mirror, her delicate brows and eyes blurred by steam. She had bathed and changed into her nightdress, tugging awkwardly at the neckline, her lashes trembling like butterfly wings. After a long pause, she stepped out.
A glance at the clock—it was nearly ten.
With nothing else to do, she lit the incense burner, calming herself with soothing fragrance. The curling smoke finally eased her restless heart.
When the clock struck ten, Ji Ying lifted the quilt and buried herself inside. That was the sight Fu Jingshen saw when he entered: the girl turned away, long black hair spilling over the pillow, her body wrapped tightly, only a sliver of pale neck exposed.
The room was filled with fragrance. Fu Jingshen recognized it after a moment—calming incense. He couldn’t help but laugh silently. Lighting incense? Was she trying to make him sleep early?
He approached the bed, deliberately making his movements louder.
The small bundle wrapped in gray sheets stirred faintly. A muffled voice came from under the quilt: “…Brother?”
Fu Jingshen’s clean, slender fingers slipped beneath the blanket, brushing her hair aside from the nape of her neck, sliding slowly to her cheek. His hand met warm, soft skin. His voice was low: “Not asleep yet?”
Ji Ying turned slightly, her face flushed red from the steam, eyes wide with confusion. “Didn’t you… didn’t you tell me to wait for you in bed…” She faltered, unable to say the last word.
“What I say is what it means.” Fu Jingshen cupped the back of her head, leaning close, his breath brushing her face, lips curved in a half-smile.
“Yinghua, are you always this obedient?”
“……”
Ji Ying instantly felt both embarrassed and annoyed, as though she were being teased. She turned her head away, yanking the quilt over her head.
“I’m going to sleep!”
Fu Jingshen pulled the quilt back, letting in some air. “Not hot under there?”
Ji Ying refused to answer.
“I’ll go shower first.” He leaned closer. “Wait for me a little longer?”
Her heartbeat quickened again. She muttered under the covers: “Wait for you… for what?”
“What do you think?”
Ji Ying’s heart tightened, and she fell completely silent.
Fu Jingshen chuckled softly, knowing he shouldn’t push her too far. He turned and went into the bathroom.
Every second of waiting felt endless. Ji Ying had never known time to move so slowly. Sleep was impossible—her eyes stayed wide open, fixed on the ceiling. From the bathroom came the steady sound of running water.
At last, the water stopped.
Unhurried footsteps approached.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him in a dark bathrobe, chest broad and damp, droplets still clinging to his hair. His gaze, deepened by the water, made his features even sharper.
One glance was enough—Ji Ying quickly looked away, her heart pounding wildly. She had never seen a grown man’s body up close before. Her father and brothers had always dressed properly in her presence.
“Yinghua.” Fu Jingshen sat down at the bedside, handing her a towel. “Help me dry my hair.”
“Ah…” Ji Ying stammered. “Oh.” She reached out, sitting up. But the neckline of her silk nightdress was too loose. As she moved, it slipped from her shoulder, revealing a stretch of pale skin—and even the faint outline of her undergarments. Her ears burned red. She quickly tugged the fabric back up, but it was too late—everything had already been seen.
“This fabric is too slippery…”
Fu Jingshen only gave a quiet reply, showing no outward reaction.
Flustered, Ji Ying lowered her head, not noticing the fleeting shadow in his eyes. Kneeling on the bed, she gently used the towel to dry his hair.
His hair was jet black, short yet soft and resilient—excellent in texture. Ji Ying’s gaze dropped, sliding over his handsome features. She couldn’t deny it—he was strikingly good-looking.
Rumors in society had long said Fu Jingshen’s face alone made him the man most sought after by socialites, though his cold demeanor had driven most away.
Ji Ying’s movements grew even gentler. Suddenly, a familiar fragrance reached her nose. She paused, recognizing it.
It wasn’t coming from herself— It was from the ends of Fu Jingshen’s hair, faint but lingering.
“Brother… did you use my shampoo?”
Fu Jingshen: “I had them buy a full set in your style.”
Ji Ying froze, a strange feeling rising in her heart. Scents always seemed more intimate than anything else. She tried to convince herself to cross that threshold. They were legally married—intimacy was natural. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Her delicate fingers slid slowly from his hair, winding down to his neck, his collarbone. Trembling lashes lowered as she leaned in, lips brushing awkwardly from his cheek to his neck, whispering softly: “Brother…”
When her hand reached his chest, his firm palm pressed it down. His voice grew hoarse. “Yinghua.”
Ji Ying’s breath tightened. “Mm.”
The next instant, her vision spun. Beneath her was the soft mattress, her pale skirt spreading out, silk nightdress slipping almost to her elbows.
Fu Jingshen’s gaze locked on her face, eyes deep as ink. He leaned down, kissing her—slow, grinding, insistent.
Ji Ying closed her eyes, arms trembling as they wrapped around his neck, her heart racing wildly. Unlike before, this kiss was no longer tentative. His lips and tongue pressed forward, entwining with hers, drawing her deeper.
When he finally pulled back, his lips were flushed red. His thumb brushed her mouth, his breath uneven. “Can you get used to me?”
Ji Ying’s pupils were blurred, her eyes misted with tears. Her lips parted, but no sound came. Normally, she would have said no. But now, with her heart prepared, this level of intimacy seemed bearable. She lowered her lashes, nodding faintly.
Fu Jingshen chuckled softly, his breath light. “Then let’s try this every day, until you slowly accept me.” He reached out, carefully pulling her neckline back up. “Until you’re ready.”
Ji Ying: “Every day?”
“From holding hands, to hugging, to kissing, and then…” He didn’t finish.
Her heart felt tickled by a feather. She wrapped her arms around him, closed her eyes, and whispered sincerely: “Brother, thank you.”
Fu Jingshen stroked the back of her head, rubbing gently. “Sleep.”
Ji Ying nodded lightly in his arms. “Alright.” From morning until now, she had been exhausted. Her nerves had been taut all evening, but once they relaxed, drowsiness quickly overtook her. Curled in his embrace, she drifted into sleep without realizing.
Only the man, left restless and overheated, slipped quietly out of bed and into the bathroom. Soon, the sound of running water filled the night. Later, he returned, carrying the chill of the shower.
Moonlight outlined the girl’s sweet sleeping face, her lashes like dark feathers casting shadows.
Fu Jingshen reached out, long fingers brushing her cheek. He suddenly laughed softly. “Fool.”
He had never intended to take her tonight. But it was himself who lost control first, crashing headlong into the net of his own desire.
Ji Ying slept deeply and peacefully. If not for her early class the next morning and the alarm clock ringing, she might not have woken up at all.
The sheer curtains lifted with the breeze, letting in shifting light.
Drowsy, Ji Ying rubbed her eyes, stumbling out of bed. Barefoot, she yawned, covering her mouth, and absentmindedly pushed open the bathroom door.
At the sound, the shower stopped.
Through the glass door, she saw the man’s broad shoulders and narrow waist, the smooth lines of his back. He stood beneath the spray, water streaming down from his hair to the floor.
Ji Ying snapped awake instantly, all sleep gone. She backed away quickly, bumping into the bathroom door behind her with a loud *bang*.
Turning her head, she covered her eyes, stammering: “Sorry, sorry—I was half-asleep, I thought this was still my old room…”
Fu Jingshen turned, opened the glass door, and casually pulled on a bathrobe. Unhurried, he walked toward her, damp hand reaching for her wrist.
Ji Ying’s ears burned red. She shook her head furiously. “Brother, I—I didn’t see anything.”
“Open your eyes.”
She shook her head harder, eyes squeezed shut. “I didn’t mean to.”
Fu Jingshen: “Really not opening them?”
Ji Ying stayed silent.
“Fine.” He clicked his tongue lightly, speaking with calm mischief. “If you won’t open them, then I’ll take it off.”
Ji Ying: *?!!* Was this really the brother she knew?!
She tried to retreat, ready to run. But before she could, an arm hooked around her waist, pulling her into his embrace.
“Why don’t you believe me?” Fu Jingshen sighed. “I really am dressed.”
Ji Ying finally exhaled in relief, slowly opening her eyes. But at that moment, she felt something unusual against her lower back. Realizing what it might be, her lashes trembled violently, and she tried to escape again.
“Don’t move.” His breath fell hot against her neck, heavier now. “Normal physiological reaction.”
Ji Ying froze completely. In the mirror opposite, she saw her own face flushed crimson. The man held her from behind, his robe loose, as if it could slip away at any moment.
*How did things end up like this?* Ji Ying wanted to cry—she had only opened the wrong door.
Fu Jingshen closed his eyes, steadying himself for a few seconds. Then he said: “Go on. Wait for me outside a little longer, I’ll be done soon.”
Ji Ying nodded quickly, took a deep breath, and fled the bathroom—closing the door behind her out of habit.
Fu Jingshen watched her retreating figure, almost like she was escaping, before turning back under the shower.
Back in the bedroom, Ji Ying buried her face in the pillow. Moments later, restless, she sat up again, fanning her cheeks with her hands. Even repeating *normal physiological reaction* to herself over and over, she couldn’t erase the image of his lean, muscular frame—or the strange sensation at her waist—from her mind.
The air in the master bedroom felt thinner and thinner. Ji Ying covered her face, dazed, questioning her own sanity. Unable to stay there any longer, she tried to calm herself and stepped out. She paced across the hall, stopping once more at the guest room doors, her expression firm with resolve. She would rather live in an unfinished room than face that kind of awkwardness again!
Determined, Ji Ying opened the door—only to be greeted by a guest room exquisitely decorated in elegant style. She froze, her expression shifting from surprise to shock to blank disbelief.
At that moment, a door opened in the hall.
Sensing something, Ji Ying turned her head slowly. There stood Fu Jingshen, now dressed in shirt and trousers, at the master bedroom doorway. “Brother, didn’t you say—”
“That the guest rooms weren’t furnished?”