Sheng Yu watched Qin Sang stand there, calmly spinning nonsense with a straight face. Amused, he curled his lips into a faint smile and echoed, “On a business trip?”
Qin Sang handed him a pair of disposable guest slippers. Feeling guilty, she lifted her eyes to glance at him—only to quickly look away and answer softly, “Mm.”
She turned to head toward the kitchen, but a low, lazy chuckle sounded behind her. Hesitating, she turned back—just in time to see Sheng Yu smiling at her. He tilted his head slightly, the movement natural and casual, then lifted his hand and brushed her earlobe, his voice low and teasing as it slipped between them.
“You’re still the same as before. Every time you lie, your ears turn red.”
That deep, almost bewitching voice sent a tremor through her eardrums. His fingertips lightly rubbed her earlobe, and Qin Sang felt her heart jolt unexpectedly, like a sudden electric current.
But it lasted only a moment. Before discomfort or resistance could rise, Sheng Yu had already withdrawn his hand, as though the touch had never happened.
As if it had all been an illusion.
An illusion that made heat bloom uncontrollably from her ears downward.
He was tall and imposing, his presence carrying a powerful sense of security. Especially those eyes—tender yet hiding something cold and dangerous—able to steal a person’s composure with the slightest movement.
But now, Qin Sang didn’t dare lose herself.
Flustered, she muttered softly, “Then why ask when you already know?”
She grabbed the grocery bags and walked straight into the kitchen without looking back.
Sheng Yu changed into his slippers, clearly in a good mood, and followed her in. His gaze swept meaningfully over her back before he spoke again, seemingly casual:
“I know you’re not married. If you were, the way I treated you the night we met again in Hong Kong—you would’ve fought me to the death.”
Qin Sang had just set the bags on the counter when she heard him practically turning the tables on her. Annoyed, she spun around to argue.
“How did I not—”
Her voice cut off abruptly.
Because Sheng Yu was standing right behind her. When she turned, her face nearly brushed against his chest, her cheek grazing his black shirt.
Startled, Qin Sang instinctively stepped back—only to hit the edge of the counter with her lower back. With nowhere left to retreat, she had no choice but to look up at him.
He loomed close, shadowing her completely, the air instantly growing more intimate. Her long lashes fluttered uneasily.
Thankfully, Sheng Yu had both hands tucked into his pockets, perfectly composed—no sign of crossing the line.
Clutching the marble countertop with tense fingers, Qin Sang pressed her lips together before protesting softly, her face lifted toward him.
“How did I not resist? It’s just… you’re so strong…”
She couldn’t quite finish the sentence. Embarrassed and indignant, she added, “You’re really unreasonable.”
As she spoke, Sheng Yu’s gaze darkened. His Adam’s apple rolled unconsciously, and more than once he almost pulled his hands from his pockets to wrap them around her waist.
She was trapped between him and the counter, so close he only needed to bend slightly to kiss her…
To grab her waist and pin her there, doing whatever he pleased.
And she wouldn’t be able to escape.
But fearing her resistance, he forced the fantasy back down. His hands stayed where they were. Slowly, he leaned closer instead, letting her breath brush his face, smiling lazily.
“So… just how strong am I?”
Qin Sang shot him an annoyed glare, gripping the counter tighter, nervous despite herself.
To him, though, it looked dangerously close to a sultry look.
Aware he was on the edge of losing control, Sheng Yu straightened, pulling back slightly. His expression turned serious.
“If you resisted, I would’ve stopped.”
That night, even when his heart had been in chaos, he’d given her a chance. Her lack of fierce resistance had misled him.
Later, he realized—if she truly had married someone else, regardless of love, she would’ve upheld absolute loyalty. She would’ve resisted with everything she had.
Qin Sang flushed, hearing the implication that she’d been playing hard to get.
But that night… he had given her a chance.
He’d kissed her wildly in the bathroom—dominant, feral—but only kissed.
It was her own low, breathless “mm~” in her tipsy haze that had tipped everything past the point of return.
After that, there was no room left to resist.
The memory made Qin Sang feel like she’d been caught red-handed doing something bad—awkward, flustered, and desperately trying to cover it up. Embarrassed, she reached out to push him away, making a last attempt at defense.
“I did resist.”
“Heh~”
Sheng Yu laughed softly. Unable to help himself, he lifted his hand and brushed her cheek with curled fingers, his voice low and amused.
“Mm… you resisted. I’m the beast.”
Qin Sang: “……”
Why did that somehow sound even worse?
Her small, beautiful face flushed a deep, helpless red.
Knowing when to stop, Sheng Yu finally let her go. He straightened and said simply, “Go wait outside.”
He began taking ingredients out of the grocery bags. “I’ve got this.”
Still burning with embarrassment, Qin Sang’s brain short-circuited slightly. Hearing she could leave felt like a pardon—she turned and hurried out without hesitation.
The atmosphere in there was far too dangerous for her heart.
But after calming down a bit, she remembered—she had invited him over to cook as thanks. Feeling guilty, she immediately returned to the kitchen.
“You should go wait in the living room,” she said, seeing him washing vegetables. She hurried over to take over. “I invited you for dinner—how can I let you cook? Besides…”
She eyed him suspiciously, the man looking utterly out of place in a kitchen. “Do you even know how to cook?”
Sheng Yu glanced at her sideways, lazy amusement in his eyes.
“Haven’t you tasted it?”
Qin Sang froze.
Memories rushed back—when they’d first gotten together, angry that he’d pretended to be gentle and “tricked” her, she’d sulked. To placate her, he’d cooked her dinner for a whole week.
Only later did she learn he hadn’t known how to cook at all—he’d learned on the fly. Yet somehow, it had tasted surprisingly good.
Pulling herself back to the present, she frowned slightly. “Even so, this meal should be mine.”
Sheng Yu lifted his brows with interest.
“What—planning to poison me?”