First Kiss
Wen Qingli was burning with embarrassment, and to make matters worse, the man before her wore the faintest, teasing smile on his lips.
Panic fluttered in her chest. She curled her small hand into a fist and thumped it against his chest.
“Lu Zheng, stop smiling!”
Her fingers were slender and soft, and even clenched into a fist, she had no real strength—her blows felt like nothing more than a kitten’s gentle pats.
The outer corners of her eyes glowed pink, and her voice was soft and sweet, carrying a lilt of unknowing coquetry that even she didn’t catch.
Her clear almond eyes glistened, drawing him in without her ever realizing.
Lu Zheng didn’t move, letting her tiny fists land again and again.
His dark gaze stayed fixed on her, and his Adam’s apple bobbed slowly.
Then his large, well-defined hands curled around her slender waist.
Rough, warm skin burned through the thin fabric of her clothes, almost searing her.
She stopped hitting him, her long lashes fluttering as she looked up. “You…”
Before she could finish, his tall frame pressed her back against the wardrobe, one long hand sliding to the small of her back, his palm resting over her spine.
It was so large it covered almost half her waist.
In the quiet room, Wen Qingli’s breathing fell out of rhythm.
“Lu Zheng, I—I won’t hit you anymore. Let me go, please?”
He was so close, his arms still wrapped around her, that she felt like she could barely breathe.
Lu Zheng’s jaw tightened, his voice low and rough. “Teacher Wen, we’re moving to the next step now. A kiss.”
As he spoke, his warm breath brushed her forehead, carrying that crisp, clean scent that was entirely his.
Wen Qingli’s gaze drifted to his thin, well-shaped lips—neither too thick nor too thin, a soft shade of crimson.
She swallowed hard, heat rising up her neck to the tips of her ears.
She looked into his deep, dark eyes; there was no trace of fluster or longing there, just calm that bordered on stern.
She knew for him, this was simply fulfilling the first step they’d agreed on for their marriage.
Even so, her heart raced all the faster.
She gave a small nod. “Okay.”
The words had barely left her mouth before a shadow fell over her, and he leaned in.
His soft lips met hers.
The moment he kissed her, Wen Qingli’s fingers curled tight into the front of his shirt.
Her long lashes fluttered wildly with nerves, brushing like feathers against his cheek.
He’d just washed, and there was a faint, fresh taste of mint on his lips.
As their breaths tangled, her mind went almost completely blank.
She was so nervous she forgot how to breathe, and when she instinctively parted her lips to gasp for air, he gently drew her lower lip between his.
Her mind went blank all over again.
Seeing her wide, dazed expression, a faint, rare smile flickered in Lu Zheng’s dark eyes.
It was obvious how new this was to her—and truth be told, he was just as inexperienced.
Afraid of rushing her and leaving her with a bad first impression, he kept it light, pulling back after one soft suck.
But the next second, she leaned in and gave his lip a tiny, shy suck in return.
Then she pulled back just as fast.
“Quid pro quo,” she mumbled, her face burning bright red.
That small, innocent touch sent a jolt through Lu Zheng, every muscle in his body tensing.
A rush of heat coiled low in his gut.
He slipped his hands into his pockets and turned slightly aside, forcing himself to calm down.
Wen Qingli noticed nothing—she was far too flustered herself.
The ghost of his kiss lingered on her lips; light as it was, it felt like a brand, leaving her trembling all over.
Neither said a word. The room was so quiet all they could hear was each other’s uneven breathing.
She didn’t need a mirror to know she looked as red as a ripe tomato.
After what felt like forever, Lu Zheng looked at her again. His gaze settled on her full, glistening lips, and his throat felt dry all over again.
“Teacher Wen, I should head to work.”
He turned to leave, but before he could take a step, a slender hand wrapped lightly around his arm.
“Lu Zheng—there’s something I need you to see.”
“What is it?”
Her shyness forgotten for a moment, she held up her phone and pulled up the photo of Qi Sheng’s signature. She explained the inconsistencies she’d noticed.
“Have you officially confirmed that the victim is Qi Sheng?”
“The DNA results are back—there’s no doubt it’s him.”
Wen Qingli frowned. “But I don’t think the man who performed on stage last night was really Qi Sheng.” She pulled out the old and new signatures. “Could you send these to forensics for a proper analysis?”
Lu Zheng nodded quietly.
After packing her things, Wen Qingli returned to Ming Tang’s apartment.
Ming Tang was already up, sitting curled on the sofa with her knees pulled to her chest, her face pale and her eyes empty.
Wen Qingli set a bowl of porridge down in front of her. “Tang, please eat something.”
Ming Tang shook her head, her voice hoarse. “Li, I can’t. Every time I close my eyes, I see him falling.”
Wen Qingli’s brow furrowed. “What if we found you a therapist?”
Ming Tang pulled back sharply. “No. I won’t go.”
Seeing how worn and thin Ming Tang had grown in just one night, Wen Qingli scrambled to think of something—anything—that might distract her.
Then she remembered the kiss that morning.
Even now, her heart still raced whenever she thought of it. She hadn’t given Qi Sheng’s fall a second thought since then—only Lu Zheng’s scent, his warmth, his touch.
Her face flushed and her toes curled every time the memory crossed her mind.
If she could push those terrible images aside with something new and exciting, maybe Ming Tang could too.
She took Ming Tang’s hand gently. “Tang… let’s go to the White Horse Club.”
Ming Tang blinked, her empty gaze slowly clearing. “Li… what did you say?”
“Let’s go book some male escorts. My treat.” Wen Qingli gave her hand a squeeze. “Sometimes doing something completely different helps you stop thinking about the hard things.”
Ming Tang was quiet for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Okay. I can’t stay here anymore.”
Night fell.
It was Wen Qingli’s first time at the club, and her stomach twisted with nerves. She wanted to tell Lu Zheng where she was going—but then she remembered his message: You don’t have to report your movements to me.
He’d said they wouldn’t interfere in each other’s lives.
The White Horse Club was an upscale venue, built around quiet ponds, arched bridges, and traditional wooden architecture.
At the entrance, staff handed them both masks. Ming Tang’s was a fox mask—striking and alluring, perfectly matching her style. Wen Qingli’s was a cat mask, white with soft red eyes and tiny golden bells that chimed softly with every step she took.
All female guests were expected to wear formal gowns. Wen Qingli had chosen a mint-green one-shoulder design that cinched at her waist, showing off her slender figure; the hem was cut short in front and long in back, revealing long, straight legs.
With their masks in place, they headed to their private room. Even without seeing their faces clearly, their grace and beauty turned heads wherever they went, and the escorts waiting nearby all hoped they’d be picked.
A moment later, more than a dozen men filed into the room—every type imaginable: sharp suited gentlemen, studious types, fresh-faced young men, ruggedly handsome toughs…
Ming Tang’s eyes lit up for the first time all day.
“Number 1 and Number 5—the suit and the fresh face—stay.” She turned to Wen Qingli. “Li, pick yours quickly too.”
Wen Qingli glanced over the group, her gaze darting quickly away from the rugged type—she’d never told anyone, but her heart belonged to someone like that. Her eyes settled on a tall man in glasses, refined and soft-spoken, the exact opposite of Lu Zheng. “Number 6, please.”
Ming Tang laughed. “I knew you’d go for the quiet type. Those tough ones are way too much for you—you’re so tiny, he’d probably break you if he so much as hugged you too hard.”
Wen Qingli shot her a playful glare. “Tang, stop being silly.”
Ming Tang grinned, holding back the urge to pinch her cheek. “Fine, fine. Let’s just have fun tonight, bestie.”
Seeing Ming Tang finally smile, Wen Qingli relaxed. Her mask didn’t cover her lips, and when she smiled, her dimples showed—so bright and lovely that the man sitting beside her stared, completely enchanted.
He waited for her to lean in or say something, but she only sat quietly sipping her water. Just as he was about to lean closer, the door was kicked open from outside.
“Nobody move! Anti-vice operation!”