It was deep into the night. Everything was silent; even the chirping of autumn insects had grown faint.
Moonlight filtered through the paper window, casting a soft, hazy glow across the room.
Half-asleep, Li Lanxiang felt the person beside her move.
Wang Dashan turned over. His arm still rested around her waist, but unlike the previous two nights, it was no longer simply an embrace for warmth.
His breathing seemed heavier than usual, his warm breath brushing against the curve of her ear.
Li Lanxiang gradually woke, though her body instinctively stiffened.
The arm that had been loosely draped over her suddenly tightened.
Wang Dashan leaned closer.
The rough pads of his fingers, calloused from years of labor, hesitated for a moment before gently brushing across her cheek.
Then his lips—cool with the night air yet carrying his own clean scent—pressed tentatively against the corner of her forehead, carefully avoiding the place where she had been injured.
The sensation was so clear that Li Lanxiang trembled all over, like a faint current passing through her.
Instinctively she wanted to move away, yet her body felt as if it had been pinned in place, unable to move.
Her heart pounded wildly in her chest—thump, thump, thump—so loudly it rang in her ears. Blood rushed to her cheeks, burning hot.
What was happening?
Her mind felt dazed.
In her previous life she had lived seventy-five years. Though she had never married, she was far from naïve—she understood human relationships and the boundaries between men and women.
And in this life, the original owner of this body had been married to Wang Dashan for more than twenty years. They had shared a bed, raised children together. Such intimacy should have been ordinary.
But… those were someone else’s memories. Someone else’s feelings.
For the soul that had newly taken residence in this body, this was the first time.
The first time being touched so intimately by an adult man.
The first time feeling another man’s breath and warmth so close.
She had thought she would feel rejection, awkwardness, confusion.
But why…
Aside from the initial stiffness and embarrassment, and her wildly racing heart, there was none of the resistance she had imagined.
When his slightly clumsy kiss landed at her temple, that warm touch even made her feel…
A flustered kind of flutter.
He was merely a man from ancient times—a taciturn mountain hunter.
Even if she had never experienced romance before, it shouldn’t…
It shouldn’t make her react like this.
Her thoughts were tangled in confusion. While her mind tried to analyze everything, her body seemed to possess a will of its own.
Wang Dashan’s kisses slowly moved downward—from the corner of her forehead, to her eyelids, to the tip of her nose, and finally, hesitantly, to her lips.
At first it was only a light touch, a tentative, inexperienced exploration.
Li Lanxiang shut her eyes tightly. Her eyelashes trembled violently, and her fingers unconsciously clenched the bedding beneath her.
His breath completely enveloped her. The pressure on her lips gradually deepened, carrying a firm warmth that unmistakably belonged to a man.
Li Lanxiang felt her entire body soften, as if her bones had been removed. She didn’t even have the strength to push him away.
An unfamiliar tide of emotion swept over her, accompanied by overwhelming embarrassment. She almost felt she would suffocate.
Wang Dashan seemed to sense her tension and stiffness. His movement paused, and he withdrew slightly.
In the darkness his breathing was rough. His gaze burned as it rested on her face. Though she could not see his expression clearly, she could feel the intensity of his focus—and a faint trace of nervousness.
He lowered his head again. This time his kiss fell at the side of her neck, warm and slightly damp.
His hand no longer stayed merely at her waist. Slowly, hesitantly, his calloused palm moved across her shoulder and back, clumsy through the coarse cloth of her clothing, sending unfamiliar shivers through her body.
Li Lanxiang bit her lower lip to suppress the soft sound that almost escaped her.
The feeling was strange—unfamiliar, embarrassing, yet…
It carried a secret, unsettling attraction.
She didn’t know what to do and could only endure it passively.
However, when Wang Dashan tried to go further—his movements carrying the directness and slight roughness typical of a mountain man—Li Lanxiang felt a clear discomfort.
It was not rejection in her mind, but a real physical unease caused by unfamiliarity and tension.
She frowned slightly. After another quiet intake of breath, she finally gathered the remaining courage and whispered, her voice trembling with embarrassment, barely audible:
“…Don’t… like that… it’s uncomfortable…”
The voice was as soft as a mosquito’s buzz, yet it was like a clear command that caused the man above her to freeze instantly.
Wang Dashan pushed himself up and looked at her in the darkness.
He had heard clearly.
Uncomfortable.
Not refusal—only that it was uncomfortable.
For a moment, there was silence.
Li Lanxiang could feel the powerful rise and fall of his chest.
She could smell the stronger scent on his body now, mixed with sweat and something uniquely his own.
Nervously, she waited, unsure how he would react.
The next moment, Wang Dashan lowered himself again—but this time his movements changed.
No longer hurried or rough.
Instead, there was a kind of indescribable patience… and exploration.
He slowed down. His kisses became longer and gentler. His touch carried a soothing tenderness as he carefully felt every small reaction from her.
He was adjusting—following her vague guidance—awkwardly, yet with complete sincerity, searching for a way that would allow her to feel comfortable as well.
Under this quiet, attentive gentleness, Li Lanxiang’s tense body gradually relaxed.
Her initial embarrassment and discomfort slowly faded, replaced by a strange sense of being cherished.
She was no longer merely enduring passively. Her body began to respond in small, inexperienced ways.
In the darkness, every sensation was amplified.
The warmth of skin against skin.
The dampness of mingled sweat.
The heat of shared breath.
And the rhythm of their heartbeats, growing faster and more synchronized.
Everything silently spoke of the most primal intimacy.
Wang Dashan had never experienced anything like this.
His twenty-plus years of married life with the original Li Lanxiang had been more like a mixture of duty and habit—quiet, straightforward, routine. There had never been such careful awareness or silent communication.
The woman in his arms now clearly carried the familiar outline and scent he knew.
Yet she brought an entirely unfamiliar stirring… and an indescribable sense of harmony.
He was not good at analyzing such complicated feelings.
He simply followed instinct, holding her tightly, feeling her change—from stiffness to softness, from passivity to shy response.
A sense of satisfaction and peace he had never known before washed over him like a tide.
As long as she was still in his arms.
As long as she remained.
No matter who she was, or where she had come from, at this moment she was his wife—blooming beneath him, sharing this deepest intimacy with him.
That was enough.
Gradually the wave of passion subsided. Sweat dampened them both.
Wang Dashan did not move away immediately. He continued holding her tightly in his arms, his chin resting against the top of her head as his breathing slowly steadied.
Li Lanxiang lay in his embrace, her cheek against his sweat-damp chest, listening to the strong heartbeat gradually returning to its steady rhythm.
Her body felt completely spent, as if falling apart, yet her mind was unusually clear.
Embarrassment still lingered.
But stronger than that was a strange sense of finality settling into place—and a faint…
Hidden feeling of belonging that she herself was reluctant to examine.
So this was what a marriage could be.
Not merely two people living together.
Not merely bearing children and maintaining a household.
But something like this…
A blending together, exploring one another, reaching the deepest understanding through silence.
She was exhausted—body and soul alike.
Wrapped in his reassuring warmth and scent, even her last wandering thoughts faded away.
Before her consciousness sank fully into sleep, her final thought was:
She still had to wake up early tomorrow.
And Wang Dashan, after confirming that her breathing had become long and steady, that she had fallen asleep, quietly leaned down and placed another gentle kiss on her damp forehead.
His arms tightened further, as if wanting to fuse her into his very bones and blood.
Moonlight flowed quietly across the room, illuminating the stillness—and the two figures sleeping in each other’s embrace.
The loneliness of a previous life and the turmoil of this one seemed, for this cold autumn night, to be temporarily dispelled by the most primal warmth.