Brother? Pei Yuli?
Wen Sui’s mind buzzed, feeling as if she were lost in a fog, unable to make sense of anything.
The night breeze lifted the curtains, allowing soft moonlight to spill inside, casting silver-like fragments of light across the floor.
By the faint glow of the moon, the handsome face magnified before her eyes gradually became clear. Her watery almond eyes widened, and her long, thick lashes froze.
The man before her looked to be twenty-six or twenty-seven, with sword-like brows and phoenix eyes, possessing a mature handsomeness.
His bridge was high, his brow bone defined, and his narrow, deep eyelids were sharp, framing pitch-black pupils that carried an edge of undisguised nobility.
It was a familiar, more mature version of Pei Yuli.
But Pei Yuli was the same age as her; he was only nineteen this year.
Her mind, already hazy from the drugs, struggled to keep up as the beautiful young girl stared at him blankly.
The man cupping her cheeks had darkened eyes, his obsessed gaze feeling almost warm, like flickering tongues of fire licking across her face inch by inch.
The nineteen-year-old Pei Yuli was a cold, steady “flower on a high peak”; he would never look at her with such a gaze.
Wen Sui’s heart hammered in her chest, and she subconsciously pursed her lips.
Her petal-like lips were red and plump; as she pressed them together and then released them, they remained moist and full.
The man’s gaze locked onto her lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing rapidly.
His breathing grew heavier, and Wen Sui could smell the scent of alcohol on him.
He stared at her with an obsessed longing, as if trying to sear her image deep into his heart, before speaking in a husky voice:
“Tonight is a beautiful dream.”
“Is this a reward, Suisui?”
“You have such a soft heart; knowing that Brother couldn’t go on living, you came into my dreams to comfort me.”
The towering figure looming over her gradually receded until he was kneeling before her.
The cold moonlight stretched his silhouette, distorting it across the floor.
Wen Sui looked at his face, then looked down at the distorted shadow on the floor, her fingers curling into the fabric of her dress as she thought aimlessly.
Oh, so it’s a dream.
No wonder.
A golden boy like Pei Yuli—the greatest hardship he’d ever faced was drinking an iced Americano—what could possibly make him “unable to go on living”?
What a long dream, and what a strange plot.
It must be because Pei Yuli stood her up tonight, so the petty Wen Suisui had given him a tragic melodrama in her dream as a small way to punish him.
Wen Sui wanted to let out a soft huff of mockery.
But the moment that trembling hum escaped her lips, the trailing sound swirled, sounding so sticky and sultry that it gave her own skin goosebumps.
Wen Sui stiffened.
In the shadows of the moonlight, the man kneeling before her also froze for a moment.
A moment later, the man calmly shifted his kneeling position.
His phoenix eyes half-closed, and his deep gaze finally moved away from her lips, wandering without concealment.
Like a beautifully patterned snake, his gaze lightly brushed over her neck and landed on her half-hidden chest.
Her oversized coat had slipped off at some point, revealing snow-white, rounded shoulders.
Thin straps held up a meager amount of fabric, with soft black lace crossing over her chest, reflecting a striking, creamy whiteness under the moonlight.
A stray lock of hair rested on the soft black lace, rising and falling with her breath, revealing a deep and sweet curve.
Pei Yuli swallowed hard, his fingertips itching.
He followed his heart’s desire, his well-defined knuckles gently lifting that stray lock of hair, his voice low and husky.
“Why are you dressed like this again?”
He asked softly, but didn’t wait for her answer.
The fingers hooked in her hair lifted upward, raising that lock of hair that had brushed against that patch of snow-white skin, pressing it to the tip of his nose, inhaling deeply with an elegant, practiced ease.
The motion was so fluid it seemed like something he did often.
Without waiting for Wen Sui to speak, he supplied the answer himself:
“Dressed so beautifully—are you trying to seduce your husband, hmm?”
He asked her, his gaze dark and heavy, his voice husky.
His thin, sharp lips curved into an arc, his dense, dark gaze enveloping her as he closed the distance inch by inch, until his scorching breath washed over her face, rough with something almost unrestrained:
“Our baby… how can such a sweet face make such a lewd sound?”
Wen Sui was completely stunned.
She didn’t know whether to object to “baby” first, or to “husband” first, or perhaps to object to that earth-shattering “sound.”
The refined and gentle Pei Yuli was extremely thin-skinned. Once he’d grown a little older, he’d never held her hand again, would blush if he ran into her coming out of the bathroom, never dared to look at her directly, was impeccably polite—he didn’t even curse.
When he was angry, he called her Wen Suisui. When apologizing and coaxing her, he called himself “big brother.” The name he used most was Suisui. He would never, ever call her something as ambiguous as “baby.”
What a terrifying dream.
Pei Yuli had mutated.
Wen Sui was silent for a moment, hesitating—should she pinch herself hard enough to wake up, or quietly wait for dawn?
She looked at the mutated, utterly uncontrollable Pei Yuli before her, then silently reached out and lifted the hem of his shirt.
She pinched him on the waist.
Pei Yuli let out a muffled groan at the pinch, his breathing quickening.
His dark gaze grew even more scorching, nearly sticking to her face, and he rasped out his praise:
“Our baby is being very proactive tonight.”
His low, magnetic voice scraped past her ear, sultry and teasing, his very breath seeming to swirl around her ear.
Wen Sui’s ears reddened slightly as she watched Pei Yuli’s face draw closer and closer, his beautifully curved thin lips nearing hers as well.
The instant before their lips met, Wen Sui truly couldn’t bear this bizarre atmosphere anymore. She raised a hand to cover the man’s lips, scolding:
“Pei Yuli, what are you doing!”
His palm was scorching hot; the man whose lips she covered froze in place.
The girl’s slender fingers covered his mouth and nose, and swirling between the gaps of her fingers was that familiar, delicate fragrance of freesia.
It had lingered through years of dreams, mingled with her natural scent—something Pei Yuli could never replicate later, even after buying up every fragrance product of the same scent on the market.
In this moment, Wen Sui was so vividly alive she didn’t seem like a dream at all.
The man’s sharp phoenix eyes suddenly lifted, his heavy gaze settling on her face.
His narrow eyelids pressed down slightly, his brow faintly furrowed as he looked at her, seeming somewhat puzzled.
Like confusion, or like confirmation.
Intense emotions churned in the depths of his pitch-black eyes, stirring up pain and hesitation, like the sea after a hurricane—waves surging, never calming in the dark night.
Pei Yuli seemed to be in agony.
Wen Sui felt scorched by his gaze. Unable to bear such intense emotion, she hurriedly withdrew her hand.
The next instant, the tall man pressed in after her.
His long arm trapped her in the narrow corner of the sofa, his broad chest pressed against her, and even the tip of her nose was filled with the mature, pleasant cold fragrance of his body.
Wen Sui’s cheeks were flushed, her ears burning, as she spoke in a soft, mushy voice:
“Okay, okay, I forgive you…”
“So you broke our plans last minute, so you didn’t come pick me up—it’s not like I’m that petty… Pei Yuli—”
The girl’s soft voice suddenly rose, and she was caught in the man’s strong arms, pulled tightly into his embrace.
The sound of his heartbeat echoed in her ears, thump-thump, unusually clear.
Too clear to be a dream.
A pleasant, cool woody fragrance, crisp and unrestrained, curled around the girl’s nose.
The large hand on her back tightened again and again, and the man’s husky voice rang out, laden with heavy restraint, as if confirming something, repeating over and over:
“Suisui… Suisui… my Suisui…”
The girl in his arms, cheeks flushed, answered softly.
It was like one of those unavoidable quarrels in a long life—Wen Suisui, in a little huff, storming ahead with her head down, while the handsome, tall young man behind her carried her schoolbag and followed, apologizing.
Until Wen Suisui, having vented her anger, slowed her steps, and the tall young man pressed her head into his chest.
A strong, powerful heartbeat thumped on, and the girl’s slender arms wrapped around his waist, her soft cheek nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
In an obedient tone, small and light, she called his name like a coquettish whine:
“What are you doing, Pei Yuli? You’re smothering me…”