The apartment door clicked shut.
Zhu Fan had kept her arms wrapped around Fang Qizhou’s neck ever since stepping out of the elevator.
Their posture was intimate and close, the man’s breath occasionally brushing past her ear, carrying a faint tickle and warmth.
Her soaked clothes were bundled inside the coat—whether it was sweat from the stuffiness or rain that hadn’t dried, she couldn’t tell.
Zhu Fan pinched her left earlobe, trying to dispel that lingering, winding sense of unease.
She lifted her gaze and, without defense, collided with Fang Qizhou’s dark, deep-set eyes.
The room was pitch black inside. On such a damp, heavy rainy night, the air somehow felt scorching.
“Y-You, put me down.”
Fang Qizhou lowered his gaze, his eyes drifting from her slightly pink earlobe to her rosy, moist lips.
The girl’s lips parted and closed as she pushed against his chest, her struggle to get down just as soft and feeble as it was ineffective.
Zhu Fan’s feet landed on solid ground.
But the arm Fang Qizhou had locked around her waist didn’t withdraw.
The dark interior was flooded with bright light at the sound of the switch, illuminating everything clearly.
Zhu Fan didn’t glance around. She still looked up at Fang Qizhou.
The light revealed the fine, short fuzz on the girl’s fair face, her soft, moist lips as translucent as if dipped in nectar, carrying an enticing sweetness and sheen.
“I’m steady now. You can let go of me.”
The breathing in the air grew heavier.
Zhu Fan blinked, and suddenly the features before her magnified to the extreme, and the sensation on her lips sent her mind roaring.
“Mmph—”
Fang Qizhou’s long lashes lifted, and he released her almost instantly.
A kiss, lip pressed to lip.
Zhu Fan was caught completely off guard. She didn’t know why Fang Qizhou had suddenly kissed her, but she could feel that when he kissed her, his mood didn’t seem so bad anymore.
The man’s pale fingertips brushed across his lips.
Zhu Fan’s eyes went wide. “You’re the one who kissed me, and you’re the one acting disgusted?”
Fang Qizhou lowered his gaze to look at her sideways, feeling that the person before him was like a spirit of the rainy night.
The man’s gaze was so deep it made Zhu Fan’s heart race.
Zhu Fan bit her lip. “Can we make a deal, Fang Qizhou?”
“If you want to kiss me, I’ll let you.”
“Just don’t be unhappy, and don’t do anything dangerous, okay?”
The surroundings were silent, bright light cascading down, casting the man’s figure and sharply defined face in clear relief.
Fang Qizhou stared straight at her earnest eyes, his dark pupils sinking, the corner of his mouth curving into a smile. “As long as I’m happy, I can do anything?”
Zhu Fan nodded firmly. “And also, no doing dangerous things. You have to obey the law and cherish life.”
The distance between their lips grew closer and closer.
Zhu Fan quickly covered her mouth. “If you kiss me, that means you agree to all these conditions.”
Fang Qizhou lowered his gaze. “Whatever Miss Zhu says goes.”
Zhu Fan heard the casual tone in his voice. “I’m not joking with you.”
Fang Qizhou leaned down to look at her, his sturdy frame carrying an immense sense of pressure, his voice low and scorching: “Kiss me until I’m satisfied.”
Zhu Fan’s fists nearly clenched hard enough to crack.
She stared intently at the man’s lips, squeezed her eyes shut, and bit straight in.
“Hiss—”
Hearing Fang Qizhou’s pained sound, her lashes trembled uncontrollably.
The kiss was utterly without technique, yet fervent and eager.
Zhu Fan never heard the word “satisfied” from Fang Qizhou’s mouth, but if she kept kissing him any longer, she’d suffocate and go crazy.
She pushed Fang Qizhou away. “I need to use the bathroom.”
Watching her flee and dash into the bathroom, Fang Qizhou pressed his thumb against his lower lip.
Was she treating him like a piece of meat to gnaw on?
When Zhu Fan emerged from the bathroom after her pee-break escape, Fang Qizhou was no longer in the living room.
The indoor space didn’t require her to deliberately observe—it was all in plain view.
Fang Qizhou’s apartment wasn’t large, around 150 square meters, with one master bedroom and one study. The living room’s first impression was emptiness. Even though the furniture was complete, traces of daily life were faint. The overall color scheme and furnishings leaned toward the cool side.
Zhu Fan noticed a black oversized t-shirt draped over the black leather sofa. She stood in place for a minute of mental struggle before picking it up.
Bringing the fabric close to her nose, she caught a faint lingering scent of laundry detergent.
The clothes were clean.
Zhu Fan walked to the master bedroom door. It wasn’t closed, and the sound of water came from the bathroom inside.
Fang Qizhou was showering.
Zhu Fan carried the clothes back to the living room bathroom, choosing to find water to drink over showering.
Her throat was dry enough to smoke.
The kitchen still showed no signs of life, though the cookware was fully stocked.
Seeing a refrigerator full of bottled water, Zhu Fan took one out.
Leaning against the kitchen island, she chugged down half the bottle before her gaze was drawn to the handwriting on a sticky note.
At first, it was the bold, unrestrained strokes of the script that captured her eyes.
But after she carefully read the contents of the note, her brows couldn’t help but furrow.
[Salt—salty. Sugar—sweet. Oil—tasteless. Chili—spicy. Lemon—sour. Coffee—bitter.]
[Tangyuan——]
Did Fang Qizhou have a problem with his sense of taste?
Zhu Fan suddenly remembered at the convenience store, after she’d swapped instant noodles with Fang Qizhou, the reaction he’d had when he ate the first bite.
Zhu Fan searched through the entire refrigerator and found a full compartment of tangyuan in the freezer section.
The variety of tangyuan made her freeze for a moment.
“Ah-choo—”
Zhu Fan rubbed her cold fingertips together. No, she needed to go take a hot shower first.