◎”The same taste as your tears.”◎
Lan Yan had originally wanted to tacitly pretend they hadn’t seen each other, but clearly, Senior Sister Xue wouldn’t pass up this golden opportunity to embarrass her while also teasing Zhou Wenshu—a perfect way to kill two birds with one stone.
Lan Yan lifted her head, turned around, and took hold of Liang Jingchuan’s hand. She generously introduced him. “This is my boyfriend, Liang Jingchuan.”
She saw Zhou Wenshu suddenly lean in close to Xue Mengqiu’s ear and whisper something. The latter showed a mix of surprise and sudden realization on her face. There was no need to guess—Zhou Wenshu had definitely said, “That’s her stepbrother.”
Liang Jingchuan smiled and said, “Have you had dinner? If you don’t mind, you could join us for a bit.”
Xue Mengqiu smiled and replied, “Unfortunately, we already ate today.”
Liang Jingchuan said, “Then I’ll have Lan Yan arrange it. We can treat you two to a meal when you’re free.”
Xue Mengqiu smilingly agreed, but Zhou Wenshu pulled a long face the entire time.
The two of them headed toward the main gate of the small courtyard. Liang Jingchuan looked down at Lan Yan. “Have you eaten yet?”
“Not yet. I got busy and forgot. Did you just arrive? Have you eaten?”
Liang Jingchuan shook his head. “Shall we find a restaurant nearby and grab something?”
The good restaurants around here were all bustling at this hour, with no guarantee of a seat and long waits for food.
Lan Yan said, “How about takeout at my place?”
“Either works.”
“I’ll order now. We can rest a bit, and it’ll arrive soon.” Lan Yan looked at him. “We could take a cab too.”
“Let’s walk.”
Lan Yan opened the food delivery app. As they walked out, she asked, “Is there anything you feel like eating?”
“You decide.”
Lan Yan didn’t deliberate much and picked a familiar place, ordering portions for two.
They stepped out the gate and walked side by side along the sidewalk under swaying tree shadows.
“You owe two meals now,” Lan Yan suddenly said.
When talking to her, Liang Jingchuan always lowered his head slightly. “Who else?”
“Lu Ying.”
“You told her.” Liang Jingchuan’s voice carried a laugh.
“…Your tone sounds awfully cocky.”
“You must have misheard.”
Lan Yan’s lips curved slightly. “She said nothing under three hundred per person.”
“Fair enough.”
The morning before, as soon as Lan Yan got up, she had told Lu Ying about it. But Lu Ying had worked the night shift and was catching up on sleep during the day. She didn’t see the message until two in the afternoon and replied with a screen full of exclamation marks, demanding a detailed account.
At that time, Lan Yan was still accompanying Liang Manxi and the others touring the gardens. When she finally checked her phone, it was all Lu Ying’s nonsense: stuff like, “I had a feeling you two would end up together eventually, but I didn’t expect it so soon,” and “Holy crap, I just realized you’ve snagged both hot guys from Fourth Middle School—you’re incredible,” plus “Ask him quick—does he need any Qingtuan gift boxes? Pre-order now, and I’ll send you a three-night luxury romantic river-view king suite.”
She said to set a time for dinner once her busy period ended so she could hear the most vivid version in person.
Lan Yan ignored all of it and simply replied with five words: Spare me, please.
The sound of a bicycle bell—ding-ding—came from behind them.
Liang Jingchuan stepped to her outer side, switched the suitcase to his other hand, and as if on instinct, reached out to drape an arm around her shoulders.
The bicycle passed by them. The hand on her shoulder released, and Liang Jingchuan’s arm withdrew, dropping to his side.
She felt his slightly bent knuckles lightly brush the back of her hand. The next moment, her hand was gripped in his.
Her fingers instinctively curled a little because her heart had skipped a beat.
Lan Yan didn’t look at him. She only felt her ears growing slightly hot and couldn’t help muttering, “…You were just waiting for that chance, weren’t you?”
Liang Jingchuan chuckled without admitting or denying it.
And so they walked hand in hand, silently for quite a stretch. Their palms grew warm, a thin layer of sweat forming.
Lan Yan noticed Liang Jingchuan looking at her, but when she turned to meet his gaze, he was clearly staring straight ahead, utterly focused.
The walk from Mend Orchid Studio to her place—one she’d taken countless times—felt exceptionally short today, as if they arrived in no time.
They entered the complex and reached the lobby door. Lan Yan fished the keychain from her pocket and handed it to Liang Jingchuan. “I don’t want to deal with it. You open.”
Liang Jingchuan smiled.
“I really hate winter.”
“You hate a lot of things.”
“What, you want to get back on that list?”
Liang Jingchuan opened the door. “Whatever makes you happy. But I have to be at the top of that list.”
Lan Yan couldn’t help but smile.
The access card and apartment key were on the same chain. Upstairs, Liang Jingchuan opened the door again.
She stepped inside and reached for the light switch. Before she could press it, a hand came over and suddenly grasped hers.
Her heart leaped. There was no static, yet it felt like a faint current had struck her.
Her waist was seized and pulled back into his embrace—she wasn’t short, yet he always enveloped her completely.
Liang Jingchuan lowered his head. In the darkness, his breath lingered behind her ear for less than two seconds before he cupped her cheek and tilted her head back slightly.
Her breath hitched, then exhaled heavily. Suddenly, he bit her lip, not hiding his thirst that matched his hunger in urgency.
Lan Yan turned in his arms, rose on tiptoe, and looped her arms around his neck. She tentatively extended the tip of her tongue; he immediately caught it and delved deeper.
He was especially forceful, like a gale-force wind blasting head-on as one stepped outside, leaving her breathless and tilting back involuntarily to meet it.
“Yanyan…”
She loved how that involuntary murmur ignited her skin and heart like a spark.
Neither thought to turn on the light or take a single step further inside—such steps felt like a waste of time.
Their lips and tongues tangled with tentative nips, an urgent devouring as if each wanted to swallow the other whole.
For the first time, she realized that just two days apart could make her miss someone this intensely.
Lan Yan’s coat slipped off, hanging from her arm. Beneath was a light gray cashmere base layer, thin and form-fitting like a second skin. Liang Jingchuan’s warm palm slipped under it, pressing hard enough that she suspected it would leave marks on the snowy fabric.
Yet the cotton lining of her bra created a barrier, leaving her with a frustrating, itch-through-the-boot kind of emptiness.
She rose higher on tiptoe, threaded her fingers into Liang Jingchuan’s hair, and pressed herself tighter against him. She hoped he knew what she wanted without her saying it—that he would fulfill her desire.
The instant his fingertips slipped under the edge, her whole body shuddered as if electrified.
One corner of emptiness was filled, only to spawn a vast new one.
In the darkness, she felt Liang Jingchuan’s breath leave her lips, trailing slowly to her neck, collarbone… and lingering.
He seemed hesitant, unsure if advancing further would be too bold. In his pause, his hot breaths licked at the skin near her collarbone.
Moments later, her cashmere collar was yanked down. Just as her shoulder felt the chill air, a thump-thump-thump of footsteps climbing the stairs echoed from outside.
Lan Yan froze. “…Sounds like the delivery.”
“…Mm.” Liang Jingchuan exhaled through his nose, like a frustrated sigh. He reached out and tugged her collar back into place.
Lan Yan laughed softly.
The footsteps stopped outside the door, which was then knocked on. Liang Jingchuan called through it, “Leave it at the door.”
Hearing the footsteps retreat downstairs, Lan Yan reached for the light. “Eat first?”
“First,” he echoed with a smile.
Lan Yan kicked his leg lightly.
Liang Jingchuan opened the door, grabbed the takeout, and Lan Yan pushed his suitcase further inside. They changed shoes, headed to the dining area, washed up, and sat down to eat.
“Has Yu Wancheng and the others left?” Liang Jingchuan asked.
“Not yet. Not only that, they even invited me to be the governor’s wife.”
Liang Jingchuan chuckled. “I was just asking. I’m not jealous.”
“Really?”
“I’m not that narrow-minded. He hosted me, after all. If there’s a chance, I’d like to return the hospitality.”
“You’re sure he won’t see it as showing off?”
“Possibly.”
“They’ll leave tomorrow morning. Next time. Maybe we’ll get a chance to visit someday.”
After dinner, Liang Jingchuan took a call from Luo Shan.
Once he hung up, he said to Lan Yan, “I need to review a document. Probably about ten or fifteen minutes.”
Lan Yan nodded, connected him to the home WiFi, and headed to the kitchen.
Liang Jingchuan sat on the sofa, set his laptop on the coffee table, and fiddled with the trackpad for a bit. Suddenly, a glass bowl of washed, stemmed cherries was placed beside his hand on the table.
Lan Yan took one herself, popped it in her mouth, sat beside him, and casually picked up the tablet from the sofa armrest.
She unlocked it, sketched a few strokes with the stylus in her drawing app, glanced at Liang Jingchuan. “Not eating?”
“Oh, I’m still figuring out if this is a dream.”
Lan Yan’s lips curved. She leaned over, picked one from the bowl, and held it to his mouth.
Wary of a trick, he waited before opening up. But in that instant, Lan Yan swiftly pulled it away and ate it herself.
He smiled, unperturbed. He liked her triumphant expression.
Liang Jingchuan refocused on the screen. Moments later, another cherry appeared at his lips.
“You think I’d fall for the same trick twice…”
Before he finished, the cherry was stuffed into his mouth.
Liang Jingchuan paused, reached up to take it, and turned to look at Lan Yan.