Night fell quickly.
The villa’s secluded location made the night seem even quieter. Qi Mian stood by the window; outside, the greenery blurred into indistinct, shadowy forms in the dim light, like monsters lurking in the darkness, staring at her coldly.
But Qi Mian could see nothing; she simply stood by the window, listening intently to the chirping of unnamed insects and birds.
Her slender, pale fingertips rested on the windowsill, clenching slightly due to her restless state of mind, giving them an unhealthy pallor. Yet her profile was as hazy as a painting—beautiful and serene.
Qi Mian was waiting for Tu Ye.
The bedroom she was in belonged to Tu Ye. She could smell a faint scent of cedar, and even though she couldn’t see, she knew the room must be kept immaculately tidy.
Tu Ye must have gone to take a shower.
Qi Mian turned around and heard the door open; Tu Ye had entered.
“Why are you standing here?” the man’s deep voice asked. As his footsteps drew nearer, the faint scent of cedar grew stronger, and he came to stand before her.
Qi Mian instinctively tilted her head back; she knew he was tall, and this angle allowed Tu Ye to see her expression more clearly. “I heard a little bird chirping.”
Tu Ye smiled. “Is that so?”
With a light yet authoritative movement, he wrapped his arm around Qi Mian’s waist and led her toward the bed. “Did Old Chen get this nightgown for you?”
He lowered his gaze to look at the girl, who had already taken a shower and changed out of her rough, plain clothes. The silk nightgown accentuated Qi Mian’s beautiful curves, and her luminous skin shone like pearls under the dim lighting—
But what he loved most were her innocent, dark, lustrous eyes—eyes that were dazed and unfocused.
“Mm…” Qi Mian replied softly, like a small animal trying hard to adjust to a new environment.
“Are we going to sleep now?” Her soft voice carried an unwitting tremor.
Tu Ye watched her silently; his jet-black eyes reflected her fluttering eyelashes and lips bitten until they were white, and he narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Let’s go to sleep.”
The man tightened his grip on the back of her neck just a little, and Qi Mian stumbled backward onto the bed. A hint of panic clearly flashed across her face, but she quickly forced herself to calm down.
She stretched out her hand, feeling her way along the bedding until she found the pillow, then slowly moved over and settled down. Her posture was stiff and rigid, her eyes fixed straight ahead—she didn’t dare move a muscle.
[San San, is he going to…?] Qi Mian couldn’t help but ask San San.
San San giggled: [Oh, come on, that kind of thing doesn’t matter at all. Host, you’re an adult now—it’s fine, it’s fine. And just a heads-up: Tu Ye is super handsome~]
Qi Mian’s heart sank. Although she herself didn’t really have any outdated or narrow-minded views and maintained an open attitude toward romance, she had spent most of her time in the hospital and had absolutely no experience in this area.
The rustling sound of fabric rubbing against itself reached her ears. Losing her sight had heightened the sensitivity of her other senses; Qi Mian knew Tu Ye was drawing closer to her. She could hear his shallow breathing and feel the warmth of his body as he neared her.
This time, the tension and panic on her face weren’t an act—they came straight from Qi Mian’s heart.
Tu Ye caressed her cheek. His tall, muscular frame propped itself up slightly; the crisp scent of cedar grew stronger, and his warm breath gradually turned her cheeks crimson.
“H-husband, I’m scared.”
Qi Mian could hardly hold back any longer. She uttered the words pitifully, her clear, moist eyes silently fixed on the man before her—Tu Ye could see his own reflection in them.
Tu Ye’s voice grew even lower and hoarser, tinged with the tenderness unique to lovers, yet the words he spoke held no trace of gentleness or tenderness.
“Hold it in.”
Qi Mian: “……”
A gentle kiss landed on her lips, and Qi Mian’s body visibly trembled. Tu Ye showed no sign of stopping; he cupped her cheeks, his fingertips sinking into her soft skin, as if touching a hint of moisture.
Tu Ye paused.
He sat up and studied the girl beneath him.
Her face was a mixture of fear, panic, and tension, with the corners of her wet, red eyes glistening like starlight. Yet she showed not the slightest sign of resistance; in fact, she cooperated so obediently that she looked all the more pitiful.
By this point, Qi Mian had already steeled herself: So what if we kiss? It’s my first damn kiss, and the guy is a badass main villain. San San even said he’s incredibly handsome—what’s there to lose?
With that thought, she steeled her resolve, trembling slightly as she raised her hand. Guided by the memory of the man kissing her, she found his face and gently pressed her lips against his cheek.
Huh? Qi Mian’s fingertips twitched—she seemed to have touched a raised… scar?
Tu Ye flipped over as if he’d been scalded, rolling back to his spot beside Qi Mian and causing the bed to shake slightly. His voice carried a suppressed chill.
“Let’s go to sleep,” he said.
Qi Mian stared blankly, her hand not even having had time to withdraw, but the man’s tone certainly made her dare not make any further moves. She simply replied obediently and meekly, “Okay,” then closed her eyes.
[San San, what’s going on? Does Tu Ye have a scar on his face?] With her eyes closed, Qi Mian mentally tapped San San.
San San replied with absolute certainty: [Yeah, but you really don’t need to worry. The scar is tiny and barely noticeable—it doesn’t take away from his good looks at all. On a scale of one to ten, I’d give him a hundred! Waaah, he’s really handsome!]
A slight pang stirred in Qi Mian’s heart. Although San San put it that way, judging by Tu Ye’s behavior just now, he was clearly very self-conscious about that scar.
So where did that scar come from?
She carefully rolled over, curling up on her side. The hand she’d placed in front of her seemed to brush against Tu Ye’s arm. Feeling the warmth of his skin, Qi Mian quickly pulled her hand back, as if afraid of disturbing him—but it was precisely because of that brief touch that she realized he hadn’t turned onto his side.
“Well, good night.”
Qi Mian whispered, her sightless eyes drooping slightly in the darkness. Even amidst the chaos before her, she knew Tu Ye was right beside her.
There was no reply.
The stillness of the night enveloped the bedroom. Through the window, which hadn’t been closed tightly, came the occasional chirping of insects and birds; inside, the only sounds were the intertwined breaths of the girl and the man.
After a long while—Qi Mian didn’t know if he was asleep yet—her eyelids began to feel heavy, and she felt herself drifting off.
In the very last second before falling asleep, Qi Mian murmured softly, “Thank you for letting me stay here, for giving me new clothes to wear, and for…”
She couldn’t finish her sentence before she finally drifted off.
Tu Ye had been quietly gazing at her the entire time—watching her lips move in a whisper, her trembling eyelashes, and finally her eyes as they closed, concealing her dark, lustrous pupils.
Suddenly, he slowly reached out, his slender fingers effortlessly encircling the girl’s neck; with just a slight squeeze, her life would slip away.
Tu Ye’s expression was icy. He had used this method to kill before; the victim’s death had been utterly gruesome—the entire face turned purple, the eyes wide and bloodshot. To others, such a face would be the stuff of nightmares, but to Tu Ye, it was nothing more than a sight of ugliness.
The sleeping girl was completely unaware of the danger. She slept soundly, her pretty, innocent little face nestled peacefully against the pillow, not moving a muscle, her breath shallow and faint.
This was the first time Tu Ye had shared a bed with a woman, and it was also the first time he had tried to get close to one. After all, he was far more skilled at hurting people than he was at getting close to them.
And to be honest, he didn’t dislike the feeling at all.
He withdrew his hand thoughtfully.
At least, he didn’t want Qi Mian to turn into that hideous version of herself just yet.