Zheng Miaomiao’s whole body went rigid.
At the same time, she felt a stream of warm breath against her neck, and, in contrast, lips that were slightly cool.
The instant Zheng Miaomiao came to her senses, she struggled. She even glanced around searching for something nearby she could hurl at Qi Jin.
But there was nothing around her except the lounge chair she was lying on. The nearest vase was over three meters away.
All she could do was push at him, but the moment she moved, her wrist was seized by Qi Jin.
His strength was enormous, utterly unlike the banished-immortal gentleman he appeared to be. His palm was like an iron plate—Zheng Miaomiao couldn’t move at all.
With one hand, he had pinned both of hers fast.
Fine, dense kisses trailed from her neck to her jaw.
Zheng Miaomiao’s eyes were growing red-rimmed. “Qi Jin!”
As soon as the words left her mouth, her lips were captured by his.
The man savored her lips as if tasting the finest nectar, with a force and greed that made it seem he wanted to devour her whole.
He wasn’t satisfied with merely possessing the outside; before long he pried open Zheng Miaomiao’s teeth, plundering and claiming the depths within like a master…
“Mmph…”
The endless kiss left Zheng Miaomiao’s tongue numb and tingling.
She didn’t know how much time had passed. When she was having trouble breathing and her whole body had gone weak, Qi Jin finally, mercifully, released her.
Her hands along with it.
The moment she was free, Zheng Miaomiao raised her hand and slapped Qi Jin hard across the face.
But she had little strength left, and having been pampered all her life, she had no experience hitting anyone. In reality, the blow was barely more than a tickle to Qi Jin.
His face turned aside from the impact, and a faint red mark appeared on his fair, jade-like cheek.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” Zheng Miaomiao furiously berated him, seething.
But Qi Jin calmly took hold of her hand again. Zheng Miaomiao tried to pull away, but still couldn’t shake him off.
“Miaomiao,” he called softly.
“We’ve done things far more intimate than this before. Why won’t you allow it now, darling?” He sounded genuinely puzzled.
Did that even need asking? Zheng Miaomiao found it absurd.
But Qi Jin seemed to read her thoughts.
“Because Miaomiao is getting married, is that it?” A smile without any warmth curled at the corner of his mouth.
Seeing that Zheng Miaomiao opened her mouth as if to say more, he raised a finger in a silencing gesture and pressed it to her lips.
His fingers were slender and cold.
“Darling, won’t you avoid saying things I don’t like to hear?”
The way he looked at Zheng Miaomiao was like looking at his own disobedient kitten that had run off to play and returned home covered in filth.
He would always wash her clean.
“Don’t say those things,” he repeated once more before her. He was so close that Zheng Miaomiao could feel their warm breaths intertwining, and see specks of deep blue glinting in his eyes.
He was a citizen of Country M—half Country H, half Country M. Though his eyes looked deep amber at first glance, a closer look would reveal a hint of blue in his pupils.
Like a mysterious evil eye.
“Otherwise, I can’t promise what I might do.” Like her most intimate lover, he breathed out murmuring words.
“Your fiancé… Lin Qin’an, isn’t it?” He looked at Zheng Miaomiao, his expression gentle. “Sweetheart, you know that if I make someone disappear here, there won’t be any consequences.”
“In the end, no one will know him. No one will remember him.”
Zheng Miaomiao stared at him, stunned. Her eyes, already reddened from the long kiss, now streamed with tears of pure terror.
Qi Jin’s other hand moved to the back of Zheng Miaomiao’s neck, where there was a mark that didn’t belong to him. Clearly, it could only have come from the man he was speaking of.
His fingers looked like they were carved from white jade, with the same texture, temperature, and beauty as the stone itself.
Yet now this hand moved as if trying to wipe away something filthy, rubbing obsessively, neurotically, over and over at that red mark.
He pressed so hard that the surrounding skin began to redden too, making it look as though he was only spreading the mark wider.
He stared at Zheng Miaomiao’s neck, his eyes seeping with flecks of black, like a churning deep sea of ink.
“…You can’t do this!” Zheng Miaomiao’s voice was hoarse, nearly gone.
Only now did she realize that being the object of these people’s obsession meant that simply refusing them would not make everything fine.
She was also beginning to recall, dimly, one of the reasons she had left in the first place.
She was just an ordinary civilian. All her values were built on law and order—but before these people, order was nothing more than a quill pen to be toyed with in their hands.
If they wished it, everything she cared about could be destroyed in an instant.
“Why can’t I?” he countered. “He stole the person who matters most to me… What is he, that he dares to take you from me?”
His voice was soft, fading to little more than a breath by the end.
Yet every word fell distinctly into Zheng Miaomiao’s ears.
Qi Jin frowned and wiped away her falling tears.
“There, there. Don’t cry for him. It makes me unhappy.”
But Zheng Miaomiao’s tears only fell harder.
Tears weren’t something you could simply switch off at will.
The more she cried, the more worked up she became, until finally she threw all caution aside and demanded through her sobs, “You were the one who said you didn’t like me! You were the one who looked down on me… If you don’t like me, can’t I just leave? I finally found someone who loves me with all his heart—why do you have to come and force me?!”
Furious, she bit down on Qi Jin’s shoulder. She bit with all her strength, drawing blood almost instantly, her teeth sinking deep into his flesh.
Qi Jin drew in a soft breath.
But he didn’t struggle at all. Instead, the corner of his mouth curled into a pleased smile.
He reached out and held Zheng Miaomiao, his hand gently patting and soothing her trembling back, feeling it quiver beneath his palm like the wings of a butterfly.
He had no thought whatsoever of pushing her away. If anything, this posture felt like an offering—as if he were sacrificing himself to her.
Zheng Miaomiao released her mouth. The flesh of his shoulder was already a bloody mess.
Still unsatisfied, she lifted her head and, shockingly, bit right down on his Adam’s apple.
She had acted in a moment of madness, instinctively choosing the most vulnerable spot on the neck.
But once her teeth were on it, she didn’t dare bite too hard in such a place, and could only leave a few bloody marks.
The instant she bit down, a heavy, muffled groan escaped from Qi Jin’s throat, and his eyes flushed red at once.
Not from pain.