Qin Sang still clutched the thin blanket tightly, her trembling eyelashes brushing together as she pressed her lips nervously. Her heart pounded wildly—but surprisingly, she didn’t immediately push him away.
This sudden, unanticipated reunion left her confused, yet beneath that confusion lurked an unexpected flicker of hope.
After all, all these years, she had never allowed herself to fall for anyone else.
But the moment of distraction was fleeting. As Sheng Yu suddenly pressed forward with an almost overpowering force, Qin Sang’s fear surged, and instinctively, she reached out to push him away, resisting with all her strength.
That single act of resistance shattered the fragile tenderness he had allowed himself.
Sheng Yu’s eyes hardened. He raised a hand and gripped the back of her neck, forcing her head up and silencing her with a dominant, unyielding kiss.
“Ugh!… Sheng—Yu…”
He was so forceful that she couldn’t even finish saying his name.
He ignored her hands pressing against his chest, his kiss relentless and consuming.
Qin Sang’s heart raced, her senses spiraling as though she had been thrown into deep water, gradually gasping for air. She struggled helplessly, flailing until her strength gave out, until she sank into the overwhelming tide.
And then, near the edge of panic, she heard his deep, hoarse voice, laced with restrained anguish:
“Why… did you leave without a word back then?”
All these years, he had thought that by not looking for her, by not disturbing her, she would live a quiet, peaceful life—even if it was ordinary, even if it lacked fireworks or passion. Yet, he hadn’t imagined she had suffered so.
He still held her by the back of her neck, forcing her face upward. Even now, his breath carried the remnants of desire.
Qin Sang gasped, finally able to breathe normally. Her damp, flushed eyes locked onto Sheng Yu’s, trembling with a mix of embarrassment and frustration.
“It’s already too late,” she murmured. “Mr. Sheng, what’s the point in asking now?”
“Too late?” Sheng Yu’s gaze turned cold, commanding. “As long as I want, it’s never too late.”
“I’m married,” she said, believing this would close all possibilities.
“Then get a divorce!”
Sheng Yu pushed her onto the bed, covering her with his body. His tone was sharp, brutal. He grasped her chin, each word cutting like ice:
“You’re married, yet you live like this—so miserable. What use is such a pathetic husband to you?”
Ripping sound—
“Ah!”
Qin Sang’s cheongsam was torn roughly at the chest, leaving her exposed.
She shivered, eyes wide with panic, hastily covering herself with trembling hands, humiliated and flustered beyond words.
“So nervous,” Sheng Yu murmured, casually tugging at the strap on her shoulder. His tone was teasing, almost insolent. “It’s not like you’ve never done this before… and besides, you were the one who came to me.”
His fingers traced every inch of her skin, finally flicking her reddened earlobe, sending shivers through her entire body. She trembled, frozen in fear, her face as pale as if facing a deadly threat.
“Afraid of me?” Sheng Yu’s lazy, wicked smile tugged at his lips. “I remember… you quite enjoyed it back then.”
“Sheng Yu! You pervert!”
Qin Sang could no longer endure it and raised her hand to strike—but Sheng Yu caught her wrist, flipping it above her head, and kissed her again, domineering and relentless.
“Ugh!”
He pressed forward, giving no heed to her resistance, leaving no room for refusal.
The unfamiliar room, the overwhelming presence of the man, his sheer dominance—it left Qin Sang with red-rimmed eyes, tears falling uncontrollably.
Her tears dripped onto his hand resting against her cheek, burning with heat. And in that moment, all his movements came to a halt.
Sheng Yu felt as though something inside him had been torn apart. Pain flared in his chest. Yet his expression remained cool, indifferent.
“Why are you crying?”
Bored and disinterested, he stood upright at the edge of the bed, looking down at the trembling, barely clothed girl before him. “So boring!”
He tossed a thin blanket over her shoulders, his actions casual but cold. “You’ve ruined all my fun.”
Turning, he added dismissively: “Drink the hangover soup. Shower. Sleep.”
Worried she wouldn’t comply, he added: “Don’t make me force it.”
Even though she had taken a hangover pill, the soup would help sober her and ease her upset stomach.
Once Sheng Yu left the room, the silence settled. Qin Sang lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts a chaotic tangle.
She had known—knew—that being brought here would mean something would happen, yet her heart had still raced uncontrollably at that moment.
The reunion… left her slightly afraid of him.
His aura was overwhelming, even in flirtation.
The soup was still warm. Remembering Sheng Yu’s words, Qin Sang finally calmed herself and drank it obediently.
Just as she finished, her phone buzzed—it was her friend Jiang Yue.
“Sang Sang, are you still in Port City tomorrow? I’ll be there tomorrow night,” Jiang Yue said excitedly. “I booked a deluxe double bed room. If you’re free, come with me—we’ll go shopping. I hear Port City is amazing!”
“Okay, I’ll come tomorrow,” Qin Sang replied. “I haven’t had a chance to explore either.”
“Promise me—you can’t make other plans,” Jiang Yue insisted. “We’re going to have a proper shopping day. I haven’t gone shopping in ages.”
Hearing her friend’s cheerful voice, Qin Sang’s heart eased. She smiled, replying, “Alright, tomorrow, all my time is yours. Send me the hotel and room number.”
“Already did,” Jiang Yue said. “Oh, and I’ll transfer back the 800 yuan I borrowed last time. I have the money now.”
“No rush—”
“No! No! No!” Jiang Yue interrupted, rapid-fire. “I’m calling mainly to return the money. I might spend it if I keep it… Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow. Got to go.”
“Okay, you go first.”
Suddenly, as Qin Sang put down her phone, someone grabbed her waist from behind, yanking her sharply. The thin blanket slipped, and she stumbled into a hard chest, letting out a startled cry.
At the same time, a notification pinged on her phone:
“Alipay received: 800 yuan.”
The sound grated sharply in Sheng Yu’s ears, and he misinterpreted it again. His hand tightened on her waist. His voice was low, biting, laced with anger:
“How desperate for money are you? You struggled against me just now… and now 800 yuan and you’ve sold yourself?”
He had gone out to get her pajamas so she could sleep, but now he realized she had already booked a hotel for tomorrow night—complete with payment transferred.
Sheng Yu’s cold lips curved into a thin smile. “Already got plans tomorrow night, huh?”
He yanked at her precarious cheongsam, his movements predatory and possessive. “Then behave… leave me a little energy for your date.”
“Mr. Sheng!”
Qin Sang, suddenly lifted and carried toward the bathroom, called out anxiously.
“Miss Qin, save your strength,” Sheng Yu murmured, eyes dark and teasing. “Soon enough, you’ll have plenty to call out for.”
All these years, Qin Sang had imagined countless scenarios for their reunion—but never this chaotic, this overwhelming.
In the bathroom, desire and tension mingled, a dizzying haze of heat and longing.
Everything around them blurred, intoxicating, almost dreamlike.