10 – I Wasn’t Drunk That Night
“That’s different!”
Just moments ago, it was just looking at his chest and abs, but now that he’s changing clothes, she’d definitely see something else.
“What’s different? Didn’t you already touch them last month?”
“Ahhh, Pei Qingji! You’re so annoying!”
Wen Song was losing her mind. She grabbed a plush toy from the bed and hurled it at him behind her back.
Fortunately, Pei Qingji’s bath towel was still wrapped around him, or the scene would have been a little too steamy.
Pei Qingji caught the cat plush she threw at him with a smile. “Keeping a cheerful mood is good for both mother and baby. Next time you want to look, you don’t have to suppress your—”
“Pei Qingji!”
Wen Song grabbed another plush toy and threw it at him. This time, after throwing it, she ran out of the room.
The red marks on Pei Qingji’s body were simply too obvious—they looked painful just to look at. His beautiful skin should remain flawless without a single blemish.
She hurried downstairs to find the first-aid kit. There was no medicine specifically for bruises, but there was an ointment for external wounds and inflammation. She grabbed it and rushed back upstairs.
When she pushed open the door again, she didn’t see Pei Qingji.
“Pei Qingji?”
“I’m here.”
Wen Song called out tentatively, and his voice came from the bathroom.
She walked over slowly and saw that he had already put on his sleep pants but was still bare-chested, because he was looking at his injuries in the mirror.
She walked over and shook the ointment in her hand. “I brought you some medicine.”
Pei Qingji turned his head at the sound, thanked her, and took the ointment.
Wen Song just stood nearby, watching him squeeze the ointment out and apply it to the swollen areas.
One, it hurt a bit; two, the spots further back were hard for him to reach, and even if he could touch them, he couldn’t spread it evenly.
Wen Song couldn’t bear to watch anymore and offered on her own: “Let me help you.”
Pei Qingji quickly turned his head and agreed: “Okay.”
Wen Song’s steps forward faltered. She felt like something wasn’t quite right.
But Pei Qingji kept looking at her with eager eyes, so she could only steel herself and walk over.
The ointment was back in her hands, and before she could react, his hands gripped her waist.
In an instant, she went from standing on the floor to sitting on the sink counter.
Pei Qingji bent down and leaned in closer on his own, explaining: “This way, you don’t have to raise your hands, so you won’t get tired.”
Wen Song licked her lips. He always seemed to handle these little details so well.
She hummed in response, dipped her fingers in the ointment, and pressed them over his red, swollen skin.
“Hiss.” Pei Qingji sucked in a sharp breath.
Wen Song quickly lifted her hand and gently blew on his skin: “Bear with it. I’ll be gentle, and it’ll be over soon.”
“Mm.” Pei Qingji responded and obediently stayed still.
Wen Song carefully applied the medicine for him. She held back for a long time but finally couldn’t stop herself from asking: “Why… do you insist on getting married?”
Pei Qingji turned his head. At this moment, the distance between them was too close—a slight movement would be enough for them to kiss.
His gaze was sharp, and Wen Song unconsciously held her breath.
Pei Qingji glanced at her again, then shifted his gaze to the sink before speaking in a low voice:
“A grown man should take responsibility for everything he does.
“That night, I wasn’t drunk.”
Wen Song was speechless. No matter how she looked at it, she was the one who had seduced him first. In the end, it was still a mutual agreement.
“I originally planned to talk to you about the future the next morning, but who knew you’d run off so fast.”
“The New York branch also had a sudden problem that day, and I had to rush over to handle it, which is why I was delayed. Then you contacted me right after.”
Wen Song said softly, “It’s not that I want you to take responsibility, it’s just that I think since the child has half of your blood, you should know they exist.”
Pei Qingji realized that Wen Song might have misunderstood his meaning, and added again, “But whether or not you’re pregnant, I will take responsibility.”
“Do you talk about taking responsibility with every woman you’ve had a fling with?”
Pei Qingji never expected Wen Song to say something like that, and for a moment, he was almost amused in his exasperation.
He looked at her again, his expression and tone both serious: “Wen Song, you’re the only woman I’ve ever had. What responsibility would I have to anyone else?”
Wen Song lightly licked her lips and glanced at Pei Qingji with a hint of guilt.
That night had been her first time too. Aside from a little initial discomfort, she hadn’t felt any pain afterward, and she’d assumed he had plenty of experience.
Besides, given Pei Qingji’s looks and family background, it would have been normal for him to have had girlfriends before.
She never would have guessed that the esteemed Professor Pei was still a virgin.
“My family raised me strictly. When it was time to study, I studied; when it was time to work, I worked. I didn’t have much time to mess around in romantic relationships.”
Pei Qingji added another sentence, but Wen Song was reminded of what Zhou Huanning had said—that Pei Qingji was boring.
Based on what he was saying now, it did seem pretty boring.
“Wen Song.”
Her name was called again, and Wen Song snapped back to attention to look at him.
He remained perfectly serious. “Have I made myself clear?”
Wen Song hesitated for a moment, then replied with two “mm-hmms.”
Everything that needed to be said had been said. Even if she still had doubts, Pei Qingji didn’t know how else to explain.
But they would have plenty of opportunities to spend time together in the future, and plenty of chances to get to know each other.
He let out a barely perceptible sigh and gently lifted Wen Song down from the counter.
Setting her on the floor, he used his position by the sink to his advantage and naturally caged her in his arms.
Pei Qingji turned on the faucet, adjusted the water to a warm temperature, and tested it with his own hand first before guiding Wen Song’s hands under the running water.
Since it was summer, Wen Song’s pajamas were very thin, and Pei Qingji’s upper body was bare.
Even though there was still a small gap between their backs, she could feel the heat radiating from his skin and the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat.
She tilted her head up slightly and saw his lips pressed lightly together, his jawline clean and smooth.
Looking down at their intertwined hands, she watched as he washed her hands with careful attention, without causing her any discomfort.
“Thank you for applying the medicine for me.”
With that, he turned off the faucet and grabbed a dry face towel to wipe her hands.
Wen Song was in a daze the whole time, enjoying his service.
This feeling really wasn’t bad at all.
Pei Qingji pinched her cheek. “Go on, I’ll be out in a moment.”
“Mm.”
Wen Song nodded, and the moment her foot crossed the bathroom threshold, she broke into a sprint.
She jumped onto the bed, and the first thing she did was reach for her phone under the pillow.
She pulled the covers over herself and burrowed inside, her fingers flying as she typed frantically to send Shen Lingyao a WeChat message.
She had been reporting everything that happened these past few days to Shen Lingyao in real time.
That conversation just now was way too much—she needed to get her scheming advisor to analyze it for her.
She was typing away with great enthusiasm when Pei Qingji’s voice reached her ears.
“Are you still coming down? Should I turn off the light?”
Wen Song replied from under the covers, “No, I’m not coming down. Go ahead and turn it off.”
With that, her hands continued tapping away.
But before two seconds had passed, she felt the other side of the bed sink down, and with a rustling sound, Pei Qingji lay down.
The bed was large, and so was the blanket. There was now a wide gap between them, but that didn’t stop Wen Song from sensing Pei Qingji’s presence.
The last time they’d slept in the same bed, she hadn’t been fully conscious. This time, she was wide awake.
Wen Song’s entire body went stiff. It took her a while to relax, and only after confirming that Pei Qingji wasn’t moving did she dare glance at her phone.
Shen Lingyao had sent a long string of messages, and she now had to reply to them one by one.
She’d just finished replying when Wen Song wondered if she was hearing things—she thought she’d heard a sigh.
“Song Song.”
Then came Pei Qingji’s voice.
So it wasn’t her imagination after all, Wen Song thought to herself, but she didn’t answer him.
A moment later, he continued, “Playing on your phone in the dark at night is bad for your eyes. If you want to play, get up and sit, and turn on the light.”
This earnest piece of advice overlapped with the image of Professor Pei at school—the stern, unsmiling one.
Imagining how serious he must look right now, Wen Song couldn’t help but laugh.
Fortunately, she was done with her messages. She sent Shen Lingyao a “goodnight” kitten sticker, then tucked her phone under her pillow.
Wen Song emerged from under the covers, grabbed the blanket, and lay flat on her back. “Alright, I’m going to sleep.”
Before the words had even fully left her mouth, an arm reached over from beside her, and the next instant, she was pulled toward him.
In that moment, the clean, gentle scent that belonged only to Pei Qingji enveloped her.