Zhao Yan’s emotions surged. Le Huan looked unbearably adorable in her drunken state, her gaze both confused and pure, offering no resistance to his touch. She wore a new dress, and bathed in the moonlight, she looked like a fairy, effortlessly capturing his heart.
He could not resist stepping forward to hug her. Since living with Le Huan, he replayed every interaction with her each night before sleep. He would wake up with his pants in disarray, secretly washing them early in the morning, fearful she might discover his filthy thoughts.
Zhao Yan had no intention of taking advantage of her drunkenness; he would never force Le Huan. He simply wanted to be close to her.
He placed Zhao Xiaoqiang back in the bag hanging around his neck, adjusted Le Huan’s coat on her shoulders, and carried her. He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket:
“Huan Huan, can you hold the flashlight and light the way ahead?”
Le Huan’s voice was soft and sluggish, almost sticky with sleepiness: “Okay.”
So cute, so obedient.
The day had been clear, and the night sky sparkled with stars. Le Huan rested her cheek against the back of Zhao Yan’s neck and began to sing:
“Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are…”
Zhao Yan listened to her sweet, gentle voice singing the familiar nursery rhyme. The streets were quiet, as if the entire world existed only for them. He sincerely wished time could freeze at that moment.
They made their way home quietly, and Le Huan had already fallen asleep. Zhao Yan carried her upstairs and placed her on the bed. He felt her body slightly warm—alcohol could raise adrenaline and body heat, and she might be uncomfortable sleeping without a proper wipe-down.
He filled a basin with cool water and mixed in hot water to gently wipe her neck, arms, and legs. Le Huan, used to changing into pajamas, woke up shortly after, insisting on doing it herself.
“Can you change by yourself?” Zhao Yan thought he shouldn’t take advantage of her state, deciding to help only if she couldn’t manage it.
“I can,” Le Huan replied, skillfully starting to undress.
Zhao Yan quickly turned away, but hearing the sounds behind him stirred a twinge of regret—he realized she could manage on her own…
When the room fell silent, he turned back. Le Huan was staring at him intently—specifically, at his lips.
Zhao Yan pursed his lips, feeling slightly awkward. Just as he was about to offer to wipe her, Le Huan cupped his face with her small hands. Under the dim light, the contrast of her hands on his face had an unexpected allure.
His heart pounded. Seeing her stubborn expression, he sensed something was about to happen. He became captivated by her clear eyes, a mixture of anticipation and longing swelling inside him.
Finally, Le Huan acted—and Zhao Yan’s eyes widened in shock.
Le Huan leaned forward and bit his lips. Truly bit them, almost like tasting food, murmuring, “Not sweet at all.”
Zhao Yan winced in pain, tasting the metallic tang of his own blood. Her tiny canines left marks that would likely swell and scab by morning.
Yet he could not bring himself to push her away. He tasted the sweet fragrance of her lips mingled with the faint flavor of grape wine, soft and tender like jelly, just as he had imagined, utterly intoxicating.
Merely biting lips sent heat coursing through him. He knew they could not continue, lest his body betray him further.
As he reluctantly tried to withdraw, Le Huan’s small, tipsy tongue probed deeper, searching the sweet wine flavor.
“Mm… Huan… Huan, wait… don’t rush… Huan Huan… my darling…”
Le Huan, drunk and dizzy, ignored his pleas, eager to continue tasting.
Her boldness left Zhao Yan unsure how to react. It was his first time being so intimate with someone he loved. His abdomen tensed painfully as she claimed the kiss, warning himself that this was too much for her drunken state, yet he could not resist and tentatively responded with his own tongue.
After a while, Le Huan grew tired and intended to pause, saving the rest for tomorrow.
Zhao Yan sensed her withdrawal but refused to let go, wrapping his hands around her slender waist and deepening their kiss, greedily inhaling the oxygen in her mouth. His hands roamed her waist, wishing he could enfold her completely. He realized how addictive such intimacy could be…
The consequence was a slap from Le Huan. She was nearly suffocated, her tongue pressed and tingling painfully, a heavy body on top of her, a rigid rod pressing against her thigh. She summoned all her strength and swatted him away.
Zhao Yan’s face cleared, smiling as he watched her relax and fall asleep. He chastised himself for lingering too long in the kiss. Her lips were swollen and glossy from the wine, and he couldn’t resist planting a gentle peck.
He ignored the physical reaction below—just a shower would fix it. He had enough experience.
The basin water had cooled, so Zhao Yan went to the kitchen to boil water and prepare hangover soup, occasionally zoning out with a smile he could not hide.
Le Huan was now the woman he had decided upon—girlfriend, lover, wife… He could not imagine life without her. She had kissed him; there was no turning back. He would follow her to the ends of the earth.
Zhao Xiaoqiang approached his feet, pawing at his pants and meowing.
Zhao Yan suddenly remembered that Xiao Qiang hadn’t eaten. The kitten still needed soft foods as its teeth had not grown properly.
In high spirits, Zhao Yan treated Zhao Xiaoqiang kindly, preparing a soft porridge for him.
Once the water was ready, Zhao Yan carried it upstairs, seeing that Le Huan had kicked off her blanket. He gently covered her, worried about the night chill.
Le Huan felt the gentle touch on her face but noticed the hands were slightly rough. Even the light touch caused discomfort, and she frowned. Then the movements stopped, and someone used a warm cloth to wipe her face, arms, and legs. Exhausted from the sweat, Le Huan felt much better and drifted into a deep sleep.
Zhao Yan’s heart raced as if mutated, and sleep eluded him. He just wanted to watch Le Huan’s sleeping face. When Zhao Xiaoqiang meowed for food downstairs, he had no choice but to serve the kitten.
After rushing back and forth most of the night, Zhao Yan still could not sleep. He went for a nighttime run, though usually he ran at least five kilometers when insomnia struck. His thoughts were entirely on Le Huan, so he returned to her side.
After a shower, he could not resist lying next to her. Since they had kissed, lying on the same bed seemed acceptable… Le Huan had slept in his arms before, hadn’t she? He held the sleeping beauty in his arms, entwining their limbs, and gradually drifted off to sleep.