Shuyi felt Jiang Congli drawing near and shifted her back toward him until it pressed against his chest.
The man’s body warmth seeped through the fabric of his clothes, warm and comforting. Pei Shuyi’s body gradually softened, like wax being warmed, melting bit by bit into the contours of his form.
“Sleepy?”
Pei Shuyi nodded, then shook her head.
Truthfully, she couldn’t quite tell whether she was sleepy or simply didn’t want to speak—she just wanted to lean against him like this.
Jiang Congli took the opportunity to gather her more snugly into his embrace, letting her rest more comfortably.
His hand held hers, his thumb continuing to gently stroke the back of her hand, one slow, light caress after another, as if soothing her.
…
Suddenly, she recalled the couple with a cute little child she had seen when leaving the cinema that afternoon. Pei Shuyi had glanced at the child several times.
“Do you like children?”
Jiang Congli spoke softly, as if casually bringing up a topic.
Hearing this, Pei Shuyi turned her head slightly, adjusting her position in his arms to a more comfortable sleeping posture. “I wouldn’t say I like or dislike them. It’s just fascinating—how a little thing just a few dozen centimeters tall can actually grow into an adult over a meter tall.”
Hearing Pei Shuyi describe it this way, Jiang Congli couldn’t help but chuckle.
Jiang Congli had an older sister, Jiang Shutong, who had married He Jisheng of the He family in Hong Kong.
The two had a little boy, just over a year old.
Jiang Congli thought to himself that if Pei Shuyi had an affinity for children, he could bring his little nephew along the next time they went to Qingtan Mountain.
Outside the window, the snow continued to fall, now denser than before.
Because Pei Shuyi had shifted her body earlier, the collar of the oversized men’s loungewear she was wearing had already slipped to one side. Jiang Congli reached out with a serious expression to adjust it for her, but his fingertips inadvertently brushed against her collarbone.
Pei Shuyi’s body was very sensitive, and in an instant, half her drowsiness vanished, her heartbeat quickening along with it.
Suddenly, the atmosphere grew slightly tense.
On the sofa, the two embracing each other locked eyes, and a wave of ambiguity rose between them.
Pei Shuyi sensed that Jiang Congli’s gaze was far from innocent.
Having grown up abroad, she was well aware of the dynamics between adult men and women. Though she had no firsthand experience, that didn’t mean she was ignorant.
“Jiang Congli…” Pei Shuyi called out.
Jiang Congli hummed in response, indicating he had heard her.
“Does anyone usually live in this apartment of yours?” Pei Shuyi tried to change the subject.
“I do,” Jiang Congli answered, humoring her, but his hands were already beginning to wander.
“But aren’t you always in Hong Kong?”
“I have business here. I come once or twice a month for meetings or to check on projects. Sometimes I come and go in a day, sometimes I stay overnight.”
Pei Shuyi nodded.
No wonder the apartment, though somewhat cold and empty, still bore traces of habitation.
Unconsciously, Pei Shuyi’s collar had slipped once again to the edge of her shoulder, revealing a stretch of collarbone and a small hollow of her shoulder.
That patch of skin appeared almost translucent in the snowy light, with faint blue veins visible beneath.
Jiang Congli’s gaze lingered on her collarbone for a moment before shifting away.
But after shifting away, it returned—this was beyond his control.
To Jiang Congli, Pei Shuyi was now an immense temptation.
Jiang Congli closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.
But all he inhaled was the fragrance emanating from her hair, her skin, and the collar of her clothes.
The scent gently yet persistently invaded his nostrils, traveling down his respiratory tract like an invisible thread, tugging at every nerve in his body.
When he opened his eyes again, the turmoil in their depths had not subsided but instead surged even more intensely.
“Shu Yi.”
Jiang Congli’s voice was low and hoarse.
Pei Shuyi hummed lazily in response.
“Want to kiss?”
Pei Shuyi was taken aback, caught off guard by Jiang Congli’s invitation.
…A few seconds later, Pei Shuyi lifted her head and actively kissed his Adam’s apple.
Her lips were soft, pressed against his moving Adam’s apple, and she could feel his body tense beneath her touch.
As she moved, the edge of her collar barely clung to her arm, the fabric at her chest hanging loosely and swaying gently with her motions.
She nestled in his embrace, lying on her side with one leg curled on the sofa and the other dangling over the edge.
The hem of her loungewear had long since crumpled into a heap around her waist, revealing a glimpse of her lower abdomen.
The snowlight from outside the window shone on her, illuminating her collarbone, the hollow of her shoulder, and the skin below her collarbone with striking clarity.
They both knew perfectly well that she wore nothing beneath her clothes.
But knowing was one thing; truly seeing was another.
The fabric draped loosely over her like a thin mist that could be blown away by the wind at any moment—hiding nothing, yet hinting at everything.
Her collarbone was beautiful, no longer the stark, bony prominence it had been when she first woke up two months ago.
After two months of care, it had gradually formed a smooth and graceful curve, slightly upturned at the ends, like the wings of a bird poised for flight.
The last shred of Jiang Congli’s rationality shattered completely the moment she kissed him.
He cupped the back of her head and leaned down to kiss her.
His broad palm slid from the back of her head to the side of her neck, his thumb pressing against her jaw, forcing her to tilt her head back and accept his kiss.
Pei Shuyi leaned backward under his kiss, her back pressed against the sofa armrest, but Jiang Congli gave her no chance to catch her breath.
His lips moved away from hers, gradually wandering elsewhere.
With each kiss he placed, Pei Shuyi’s body softened further.
“What a beautiful baby,” Jiang Congli did not hesitate to lavish praise.
His hand moved upward from her waist, his fingertips tracing the vertebrae of her spine one by one, circling and climbing, until his palm rested just below her collarbone.
His other hand was not idle either, sliding from her back to her waist, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thin fabric to scorch her skin. His thumb drew circles on her waist, the motions growing smaller and slower.
Pei Shuyi felt herself…
She clutched the fabric at Jiang Congli’s waist, her nails digging into his skin through the material.
Slowly, Jiang Congli’s hand, which had been resting on the small of her back, slid up from the side of her neck, tracing her collarbone with his calloused fingertips brushing against the skin behind her ear.
That spot was the most sensitive part of Pei Shuyi’s body, and with Jiang Congli’s touch, her breathing grew erratic. She even arched her back slightly, unable to withstand the sensation.
Finally, overwhelmed by the stimulation, Pei Shuyi let out a soft sound in his embrace, like the mewl of a cat.
Jiang Congli lifted his head from the crook of her neck.
The man’s eyes were red, his breathing ragged, and his collar was crumpled from her grip.
Outside the window, snowflakes landed on the glass, melting into droplets that slowly trickled downward.
“Shu Yi…” he called her name.
Pei Shuyi’s cheeks were already flushed, her eyes dazed and the corners tinged red.
Jiang Congli looked at her like this, tightened his arms, and pulled her whole body into his embrace.
His breathing had not yet calmed either, his voice muffled as he deliberately pressed his fingertip against Pei Shuyi’s neck:
“Baby is so wet.”