The kiss ended, a silvery thread still connecting them.
Li Jiao watched as Song Li Sheng’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, casting fan-shaped shadows beneath his eyes.
She licked her lips, feeling somewhat unsatisfied.
But her current position lying atop Song Li Sheng was becoming uncomfortable.
So she wobbled as she sat up from him.
Seeing her rise, Song Li Sheng quickly straightened up as well, though one of his legs remained pinned beneath Li Jiao.
They were still very close.
“Next time… could you tell me? I was so worried when you came back this late.”
After a month together, Song Li Sheng had learned what tone to use when speaking with Li Jiao to please her.
When he first arrived at the bar, he had indeed been blinded by anger, nearly dropping his usual pretense.
Fortunately, Li Jiao was drunk and probably hadn’t noticed.
Just as Song Li Sheng expected, Li Jiao was truly someone who responded to softness rather than force.
After their recent intimacy, hearing her little husband speak in such a tentative, aggrieved tone made her completely defenseless.
Bullseye.
“Alright, I promise.” Li Jiao reached out and ruffled Song Li Sheng’s hair.
Her technique was exactly like petting a big cat.
Having obtained the response he wanted, Song Li Sheng revealed a smile that said everything was going according to plan.
Of course, it would have been better if his hair could hide his thoroughly reddened earlobes.
When Li Jiao opened her eyes, it was nearly noon.
She had surprisingly slept well. As she climbed out of bed, she habitually rubbed her head, only to find…
There was no hangover headache at all.
Memories flooded her mind like tidewater – Li Jiao recalled everything that happened last night.
Including how Song Li Sheng had personally cooked sobering soup and carefully fed it to her.
Strange. Though A Mo used to make her sobering soup too, she would always wake up with some discomfort the next day.
Could this be the benefit of having a male consort?
Ignoring how times develop, society progresses, and technology advances, Li Jiao credited everything to Song Li Sheng.
She finally sighed about how good it was to have a husband, casually touching her lips as she did.
Wait… had she forced the melon yesterday?
Li Jiao couldn’t remember at all what expression Song Li Sheng had when she kissed him forcefully.
But since he had taken care of her after they returned home, he probably hadn’t cried… right?
Remembering Song Li Sheng’s “steamed bun” personality – the type who might force a smile even when wronged and unlikely to resist – Li Jiao really wasn’t sure.
She had even bitten his lip…
Her mind filled with imagined scenes of Song Li Sheng secretly wiping tears while letting her have her way.
The image gradually merged with his lonely, vulnerable posture that day after signing the agreement, when she had looked down at him from upstairs.
Li Jiao immediately got out of bed, quickly washed up, and hurried downstairs.
In the kitchen below, the frosted glass door was closed, with faint sounds of sizzling oil coming from within.
Perhaps because their hearts were connected, just as Song Li Sheng pushed open the door carrying the lunch meat, fried eggs, and toast he had made, Li Jiao happened to step off the final stair.
“Perfect timing, let’s have breakfast.” His eyes brightened slightly upon seeing Li Jiao. He placed the plates on the dining table while taking off his apron, naturally inviting her over.
When Li Jiao saw the dark red at the corner of Song Li Sheng’s lips, she grew even more excited… No! She grew even more embarrassed.
It really was true that alcohol leads to reckless behavior—what a sin, what a sin.
But she genuinely wanted to kiss him again.
Come on, Song Li Sheng’s lips were really soft.
“What’s wrong?” The owner of those soft lips clearly observed every change in Li Jiao’s expression.
“Nothing.” Li Jiao cleared her throat lightly, dispelling all the improper images from her mind.
Then, with a serious expression, she tucked her hair behind her ear and unhurriedly walked to the table to sit down.
“Try it. I’m not sure if you’ll like what I made.” Song Li Sheng pushed the plate toward her, emphasizing the words “what I made.”
He had specifically gone online to post a question: “How to break the ice between newlyweds in a business marriage?”
Although most replies questioned whether he was writing a novel, a few floors offered serious responses.
One of them was to personally make breakfast for the other.
After speaking, Song Li Sheng deliberately observed Li Jiao’s expression. Seeing her eyes curve even more, he quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
It seemed to be working.
Li Jiao picked up her chopsticks and took a bite of the luncheon meat. The savory oil burst in her mouth, and she squinted contentedly: “It’s delicious. I really like it.”
However, as the food on the plate dwindled, Li Jiao kept her chopsticks in her mouth longer.
She was hesitating whether to bring up last night’s incident. After all… she had ultimately forced herself on Song Li Sheng.
“About last night…” Li Jiao finally couldn’t hold back, “Does your mouth still hurt?”
“It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Song Li Sheng averted his gaze slightly as he replied.
He was somewhat worried that Li Jiao would apologize or say something similar.
But Li Jiao only replied with relief: “That’s good.”
No apology, nor did she blame it on impulse.
Song Li Sheng breathed a sigh of relief.
He still didn’t understand Li Jiao well enough, because Li Jiao would never apologize for something like this.
Although she felt somewhat guilty and embarrassed about forcefully breaking her little husband’s lip from the start, they were wife and husband—wasn’t doing such things perfectly natural?
Li Jiao’s point of guilt lay in the possibility that Song Li Sheng might have been “bullied” to tears by her.
If Song Li Sheng had answered “it still hurts,” she would have simply comforted him.