“…Are you an adult yet?”
The hazy moonlight streaming through the window fell upon the large hotel bed, casting its glow on the man and woman on the verge of passion.
Rong Junheng’s half-naked torso—his broad back muscles taut as he suppressed the raging heat within him—stared intently at the girl’s delicate, luscious face, which was no bigger than the palm of his hand.
She was too young—delicate and innocent, like a doll.
Yet her body was damn soft and voluptuous.
Sensing that he had stopped moving, Ruan Zhi opened her dazed, drunken eyes.
Her reason, consumed by lust, had long since crumbled; she couldn’t even make out the man’s face. Instinctively, she reached out and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. Her red lips let out a soft “mmh,” and she bit down on his thin lips, her movements so frantic they lacked any rhythm.
“Please… don’t… stop…”
A soft, plaintive voice, on the verge of tears, spilled from the girl’s lips.
A flicker of fire ignited in Rong Junheng’s eyes, dark with desire. The last shred of hesitation vanished completely as the girl frantically pried open his tightly pressed lips.
His large hand, veins throbbing, clamped firmly around the back of her neck as he kissed her fiercely.
Predation was a nature etched into his very bones—even in matters of love, he made no exception.
He just hadn’t expected that once he broke his vow, he would become this mad.
The night grew deeper.
Again and again…
Until the girl stopped clinging to Rong Junheng.
… —————————– ———–
Outside the window, a glimmer of light broke through the overcast sky, filtering into the room through the sheer curtains.
Ruan Zhi slowly opened her eyes, a wave of soreness and exhaustion sweeping over her entire body.
The sleeping face of a stranger suddenly came into view without warning, his steady, deep breaths brushing against her cheek.
In an instant, her face went pale.
Memories of last night replayed in her mind, scene by scene.
A few days ago, when Rongda University had just started winter break, her senior, Song Ran, had introduced her to a part-time job: playing a minor maid on the set of a period-drama short series in which Song Ran starred.
Thinking she could earn over 400 a day and observe fellow professionals filming a script firsthand—which would be a great help for her own screenwriting—she agreed.
After four days of shooting, they wrapped up last night, and the production company’s boss treated the entire crew to dinner.
Midway through the meal, Song Ran’s boyfriend called; the two got into an argument. With a grim expression, Song Ran said her goodbyes and hurriedly left.
Ruan Zhi had struck up a conversation with one of the female screenwriters on the crew, so she didn’t leave with Song Ran.
As the dinner drew to a close, the group let loose, clinking glasses and calling each other “brother” and “friend,” fully embracing the culture of drinking and socializing.
Reluctantly, she had a couple of drinks with the screenwriter, and then things spiraled out of control.
Soon her head was spinning, her body felt hot, and she collapsed face-down on the table, unable to get up.
By the time she realized she’d been drugged, it was too late.
She was taken upstairs to a hotel room by that disgusting production boss.
Fortunately, just as the old man was holding her up and swiping his card to open the door, his phone rang.
It must have been an important call; the old man cursed under his breath, covered her mouth, and went to answer it.
She mustered all her strength to bite him, and just as he reached out to grab her, she weakly kicked him in the groin. Only then was she able to barely support her body, which was burning with desire, and stagger away.
Fearing the older man would catch up to her, she frantically pushed open a slightly ajar door.
Everything that followed was a series of scenes that filled her with utter shame.
She threw herself at the man, completely forgetting she even had a boyfriend—kissing, caressing…
She had completely become an empty shell driven by primal desire, knowing only how to take, letting the man satisfy her.
As the memory came flooding back, the man’s muscular arm, draped across her bare waist beneath the covers, twitched. She was so startled her heart skipped a beat for two seconds, and she held her breath.
Fortunately, the man hadn’t woken up; he simply withdrew his arm, rolled onto his back, and lay perfectly still, his hands resting across his chest beneath the covers.
His demure, proper sleeping posture gave no hint of the reckless abandon and madness that had run wild the night before.
A flash of the scene crossed her mind, and tears nearly welled up in her eyes. She bit her lip hard and carefully sat up.
Her legs trembling, she rummaged through the pile of clothes scattered across the floor to find her own, put them on, and walked toward the door with unsteady steps.
Her handbag lay by the door, its contents spilling out; her cell phone had turned off at some point.
Not daring to linger, she hurriedly gathered her things, stuffed them into the bag, and fled the room, which was filled with guilt and shame.
The hotel hallway was deathly quiet. Ruan Zhi scanned both sides warily, terrified that the scumbag who had failed to get his way last night might suddenly jump out at her.
She didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until she reached the elevator and still heard nothing.
But the very next second, the elevator doors opened. As she looked up, a handsome yet cold face suddenly came into view.
The man in the beige overcoat—his tall, slender figure was so familiar, yet his icy aura was so foreign.
Her heart skipped a beat, her blood pressure plummeted, and her whole body felt as if it had plunged into an ice cellar; the foot she’d already stepped into the elevator froze in place.
Rong Che appearing here at this exact moment—could it be…
Did he know she’d slept with another man last night?
She panicked, as a mix of hurt and shame collided violently within her chest, tearing at her heart until it ached.
Her lips trembled, but she couldn’t make a sound.
She wanted to throw herself into Rong Che’s arms and cry her heart out, yet she was afraid he would push her away…
“Ruan Ruan? What are you doing here?”
A shadow flashed briefly in Rong Che’s eyes as his gaze swept over his girlfriend’s slightly disheveled long hair and settled on her pale, bloodless face. Without a word, he pulled her into the elevator.
At the same time, he turned and wrapped his arm around Ruan Zhi, his tall figure shielding the stunning woman leaning against the corner of the elevator.
“You look terrible.”
He looked down, furrowing his brow.
“Why are you crying?”
Her beautiful almond-shaped eyes, usually clear and bright, were now veiled with a mist of tears.
Just as the pad of his finger touched the reddened corner of her eye, Ruan Zhi—sighing in relief—instinctively turned her head away.
Had she just seen anything?
His finger froze, his gaze darkening slightly as he casually glanced out of the corner of his eye at the alluring figure behind him, his eyes flashing with a cold glint.