◎Be gentle, you’re going to tear my skirt!◎
“Su Yicen, don’t you see all these people around?”
After being pulled off the stage by him, Song Chan lowered her voice and seriously reminded him.
She quietly kept an eye on the movements of the surrounding guests. Fortunately, the banquet hall was noisy, and the gala had already officially ended.
The guests were leaving one after another. Seeing that not many eyes were drawn to the two of them, Song Chan finally let out a breath of relief.
“Does Teacher Song worry so much?”
“That others will find out about our relationship?”
The steady man’s voice was full of expectation. Meeting Song Chan’s evasive eyes, he saw that she still couldn’t accept making their relationship public.
Not wanting to make things difficult for her, Su Yicen gave a wry smile.
“I feel like I’m your hidden secret lover.”
“Oh, no.” He quickly denied it, teasing himself playfully: “It should be… the certified underground… husband…”
Thinking of it this way, Su Yicen’s mood instantly improved a lot, even carrying a bit of pride.
After all, everything now was the result of his long premeditated plan.
Song Chan didn’t want to pay him any mind and walked straight past him, intending to head back to the dressing room to change clothes.
She had only taken two steps when Su Yicen blocked her path again.
“Teacher Song, wait.”
“Is there something wrong?”
Song Chan turned around and saw Driver Old Wang, who had arrived at some point.
Su Yicen spoke unhurriedly, his tone not like an order.
“It’s bad weather outside, and it’s about to rain.”
“It’s dark, and taking a cab wouldn’t be convenient. Let Old Wang take you back.”
His excuse was so clumsy it was practically fabricated out of thin air. She had clearly checked earlier—sunny skies all day, with the morning sun hot enough to melt people. Rain now?
“Thanks, but no need.”
Song Chan decisively refused and came up with her own excuse: “I still need to go to the dressing room to change.”
With that, she turned and left.
Su Yicen seemed to have anticipated it. He slowly said,
“I remember… it’s the day after tomorrow, right? Aunt Xu is calling us home for dinner?”
“Then the day after tomorrow, I’ll have a good chat with Auntie…”
Song Chan’s departing steps had been so decisive, but they halted just as abruptly upon hearing Su Yicen’s words.
She lowered her voice: “Su Yicen, don’t push it too far!”
Su Yicen glanced around, pressed his index finger to his lips, and reminded her.
“Teacher Song, there are people all around…”
“Are you going to domestic violence me?”
Seeing his deliberate act, Song Chan held back her anger and asked, lowering her voice further.
“Why do you have to block me?”
Su Yicen didn’t hide it and stated bluntly.
“I just don’t want Zhou Chiyu to get your contact info.”
After all that roundabout talk, it boiled down to this—and it did sound exactly like something he would do.
Song Chan glared at him, tossed the dressing room key in her hand into his palm, and told him.
“Remember to bring my stuff home.”
She followed Old Wang out of the company without going to the dressing room. She didn’t change out of her evening gown. Su Yicen’s suit jacket draped over her shoulders, covering her snowy jade-like back.
Just as she exited the company building, a cool breeze blew in, carrying the scent of earth. It lifted the hem of her skirt lightly, and the suit on her shoulders, infused with that man’s scent, wrapped her even tighter.
Song Chan looked up and saw that the sky outside was indeed covered with thick dark clouds.
The sky was dark and overcast, rain about to fall at any moment.
She saw that the car Old Wang had brought to pick her up was Su Yicen’s Aston Martin.
Song Chan wondered inwardly: “Isn’t he coming with us?”
Old Wang replied: “Yicen said the organizers arranged a hotel. He told me to take you there first.”
“Oh.”
With that acknowledgment, she shrank into her seat to rest.
Busy all day, her mind was a mess, and her body was utterly exhausted.
As the car slowly drove forward, Song Chan gazed out the car window. Suddenly, it hit her.
Organizers? Wasn’t she part of the organizers?
If ZE Fashion had booked a hotel, how could she, the person in charge, not know?
She felt like she’d gotten into a kidnapper’s car and was being whisked away. Song Chan hurriedly pulled out her phone to question Su Yicen.
Song Chan: 【What are you up to now?】
Song Chan: 【When did the organizers book a hotel? How could I not know?】
The other side seemed idle too, replying quickly.
Next-Door Neighbor: 【There are a lot of paparazzi at tonight’s gala. If we both head back to Hermitage Splendor Residence, we might get photographed.】
ZE Fashion’s charity gala this time had half the Entertainment Circle’s stars in attendance—it was a major event drawing nationwide attention, and the paparazzi entertainment reporters wouldn’t miss this feast.
Su Yicen’s response was airtight. Song Chan was just about to drop the topic when another message popped up in the chat.
Next-Door Neighbor: 【Or does Teacher Song want to get caught?】
Song Chan fell silent. She knew this Flower Peacock wouldn’t easily pass up any chance to tease her.
But this time, she was the one in the wrong for not thinking it through. She politely replied.
Song Chan: 【Teacher Su is so thoughtful (smile)】
Song Chan: 【Are you heading home then?】
Next-Door Neighbor: 【Nah, circling around Hangbei.】
Next-Door Neighbor: 【Now, there’s only one pap car tailing me.】
Song Chan: 【Be safe.】
After sending that, she thought the topic was done and was about to put her phone down to rest when a voice message jumped up from the other side.
Su Yicen’s slow and deliberate voice echoed leisurely in the car.
“Good, wait for me at the hotel.”
Song Chan: ???
She froze, not just from embarrassment, but shock at Su Yicen’s clinginess.
Song Chan: 【You’re coming too?】
Who knew he’d fire back with a question.
Next-Door Neighbor: 【Would Miss Song feel at ease leaving me to guard an empty bed alone?】
Before Song Chan could reply, another message popped up.
Next-Door Neighbor: 【I know Miss Song wouldn’t feel at ease.】
Song Chan: 【……】
Song Chan: 【Su Yicen, shut up or I’ll lock the door.】
The threat worked, and very effectively.
Su Yicen sent a meme of himself with a cold face and the word “Silence” below.
Song Chan wasn’t polite either and fired back a meme of him rolling his eyes, ending the chat.
Their car drove a long way too, out to the suburbs and back to a hotel in the business district.
By the time Song Chan arrived at the hotel, it was pitch black outside.
Once in the room, she kicked off the uncomfortable high heels that had been binding her feet.
She stepped barefoot on the floor—it was a bit cold, but she quickly got used to it.
Not sure if Su Yicen had picked it on purpose, but this hotel’s window was the floor-to-ceiling style Song Chan liked. Directly across from the hotel, a massive screen displayed a huge promotional poster of Su Yicen.
Such posters were everywhere, covering the streets of Hangbei. He was the shining Top Idol, adored by all.
Gazing at that man’s noble, aloof face on the big screen, Song Chan zoned out without realizing it.
For a moment, she even wondered if she was in a dream or reality.
Song Chan could hardly believe that she, following this lofty true Heavenly Prodigy megastar, shared such a deep, unknown intimate relationship.
He was like a spider web, capturing and entwining her, pulling her into his trap, making her sink deeper bit by bit.
“Stealing glances at me again?”
A sudden voice interrupted Song Chan’s daze.
She turned around to find Su Yicen had arrived beside her at some point. He was bending down to her eye level, looking up.
From this angle, her line of sight only reached his poster on the screen.
He straightened up with a smile and asked softly,
“Stealing glances at me?”
Without waiting for her answer, Su Yicen answered himself.
“Actually, Miss Song, you can just call me over directly.”
“I can let you look me over, inside and out, thoroughly…”
His seductive, cool voice was low and alluring, the implication obvious.
Song Chan looked at him, her starry eyes fading as she cleared her throat to compose herself.
She stubbornly said: “You’re the one… blocking my view of the scenery.”
“Scenery?”
Su Yicen looked out the window. Dark clouds had long covered the sky, pressing down heavily, on the verge of rain. People on the streets hurried along.
No matter the direction, nothing qualified as “scenery.”
“Mind your own business!”
Averting her eyes, Song Chan pushed Su Yicen away, but he grabbed her wrist in return and pulled her into his arms.
He held her tightly and asked: “In a bad mood today?”
His grip was so strong it hurt Song Chan’s arms. She struggled irritably and shot back.
“I’m always in a bad mood. Go find someone with a good temper.”
He said in a low voice: “Are you mad?”
Song Chan ignored him and forcefully pushed his arms away.
The man took a deep breath, looking troubled.
“So hard to coax?”
“Could it be that Chanchan is jealous?”
At that, Song Chan widened her eyes: “Jealous? Me? Jealous of what? Don’t get the wrong idea.”
As she spoke, she recalled that fleeting moment today when Li Shuning got close to him.
There had indeed been a strange flutter in her heart.
But… was that jealousy?…
Su Yicen’s restless hand slid over her fair back, settling on her waist, pulling her back into his gentle embrace.
He huffed through his nose, looking aggrieved—completely unlike his usual icy facade.
“Anyway, I was jealous today.”
He emphasized word by word: “I was jealous of Zhou Chiyu.”
“I don’t like him anyway…”
Song Chan’s words slipped out lightly, caught sharply by Su Yicen.
His dark pupils lit up with undisguised joy. He probed again, repeating the question he’d asked countless times.
“Then you like me?”
She looked at him, complex emotions in her heart leaving her unsure how to respond.
Song Chan bit her lip: “I don’t like…”
“Mm—”
Before she finished, her red lips were sealed by Su Yicen’s. The simple, rough clash of lips swallowed her fragmented words along with the kiss.
He kissed her until her body went soft, his hand cradling her neck sliding over her smooth, soft back.
He said: “You can’t show it to others anymore.”
She stubbornly replied: “Mind your own business.”
He shot back: “I will, because I’ll get jealous.”
Su Yicen released his arms only to pull Song Chan back into them.
Their bodies pressed close; she could clearly feel the heart in his chest beating faster and faster.
The emptiness in her heart seemed filled by him.
His hand climbed upward uncontrollably. Feeling his breath tousle her hair grow heavier, Song Chan knew what he wanted and grabbed his restless upward hand.
She reminded him: “This is a hotel. Let’s go home and…”
Before she finished, she was suddenly scooped up into the air.
Song Chan’s body lost support; the weightlessness made her arms wrap tightly around Su Yicen’s neck.
He strode steadily toward the big bed in the room and gently laid her down.
He leaned over, nose tip touching hers, warm breath spilling onto her lips.
Su Yicen’s lips parted slightly, whispering words heavy with desire.
“I can’t wait…”
The kiss, still lingering from before, claimed her lips again.
Su Yicen nibbled her red lips—not too hard, not too soft—his tongue tip teasing past her teeth, probing in, devouring her bit by bit.
Her lips were like a swamp, immersing him in their sweetness; he lingered reluctantly, unwilling to leave.
Their gazes intertwined, conveying a message. Her half-hearted resistance made it clear to him.
Su Yicen propped himself up on his arms and let out a soft grunt from his nose with the effort.
Meeting the bright eyes beneath him, he raised a brow. His hand reached behind her, fingers lightly pinching the evening gown’s fastenings before yanking them fully open.
His gaze swept over her flawless skin, eyes burning hot with passion. He swallowed hard, gazing deeply at her.
Song Chan felt the gown loosen; without its constraints, a cool breeze brushed her body, exposing her completely to the air.
Her instinctive move to cover herself was stopped as he pinned her hands to the side.
Su Yicen ran his hand over her evening gown. With a slight exertion of force, the sound of ripping fabric echoed through the room.
Hearing the noise, Song Chan’s dazed eyes instantly cleared a fraction.
She pushed against him in refusal. “This is a haute couture gown—it’s very expensive. I have to return it tomorrow.”
Su Yicen paid it no mind and didn’t stop his movements.
“No need to return it. I bought both sets.”
The torn gown arced through the air before landing. It knocked into the bouquet nearby, sending flower buds tumbling to the floor amid a scatter of petals.
Song Chan clenched her fists and pounded them lightly against his chest—like she was tickling him.
“Be gentle. You tore my gown.”
“It’s very expensive. It hurts my heart.”
Su Yicen leaned down. His lips brushed the tip of her nose, then her eyes, before lightly pecking her lips.
His voice came out hoarse, unhurried, with clear desire burning in his pitch-black eyes.
“You’ll hurt even more soon.”
He lifted her waist and slid a pillow underneath.
Su Yicen’s sudden movement made Song Chan’s heart jolt in panic. Her hands instinctively gripped the bedsheet beneath her.
His hand soon slid upward to grasp hers, holding it tight as he interlaced their fingers.
A bolt of lightning tore through the night sky. The dark clouds that had long gathered outside the window unleashed a downpour, the rain growing fiercer with every passing moment.