◎Dear Wife, Please Personally Inspect the Goods Tonight◎
For a moment, Song Chan felt her breathing stop, her pounding heart seeming about to leap out of her throat.
As soon as Su Yicen spoke, the screen was instantly filled with a wave of screams.
Li Yuan: 【AHHHHH! Who is it! The one fans mentioned at the airport pickup!】
Kazi kaaaa: 【I’m really so envious, that sister Cen Cen remembered!】
Estherrr: 【Cen Cen is so sweet! He’s really putting his heart into treating us well! Chasing stars is like breathing oxygen—this is so true.】
The person on the screen deliberately paused for a few seconds, building the anticipation to its peak.
After a long moment, he slightly hooked up the corner of his lips, his sharp eyes lightly lifted, and he added ambiguously.
“No need to remind me so euphemistically next time.”
“You can just tell me directly. I’ll keep up with my body management…”
As Su Yicen spoke, he lifted his gaze straight to the camera, as if staring right at Song Chan through the screen. Her breathing rhythm turned chaotic from the tension.
A flush rose on Song Chan’s cheeks, whether from the slight buzz or from Su Yicen’s subtle teasing in the interview.
She knew he was calling her out in the interview, but she had swiped past that clip without listening to the end.
On the screen, the kid happily clapped their hands, shaking their head with a giggling laugh.
“Makabaka, Makabaka, Makabaka…”
The childish milky voice echoed endlessly. Song Chan was still immersed in her earlier flustered emotions and hadn’t snapped out of it when she suddenly noticed on the phone screen beside her that Zhou Qining had finished washing up at some point and was now staring at her with a straight face.
An inexplicable guilt made Song Chan unable to meet her scrutinizing gaze. She slowly turned her head to the side.
Zhou Qining, who had been silent for a long time, saw that she had finally noticed her and was pretending as if nothing had happened by turning away casually.
There was definitely something fishy!
Zhou Qining pushed up the frame glasses on her nose bridge, convinced she hadn’t misseen earlier.
She asked her, “Were you just spacing out watching Su Yicen’s interview? You even blushed?”
Zhou Qining raised her voice, escalating the question. Her eyes narrowed and brows lifted, as if she had discovered something.
“Chanchan, I’ve known you for so long, and this is the first time I’ve seen you like this.”
Song Chan smiled, covering her face with her hand in a clumsy attempt to change the subject.
“This fruit wine is so strong…”
“I was watching a kid’s video! Kids are so cute and innocent…”
As she spoke, she even turned the tablet toward the phone camera, but the awkward smile on her face betrayed her. She didn’t even believe this lame excuse herself.
“Innocent? Cute? Are you talking about yourself?”
Zhou Qining reminded her, “Chanchan, you have the speaker on. I can hear it.”
“You’d blush like that over a ‘Makabaka’? Do you believe that yourself?”
With that, Zhou Qining changed tack, deliberately teasing her.
“Or are you overflowing with maternal love?”
“You want to have a kid with Su Yicen?”
Startled by her words, Song Chan widened her eyes, her shocked expression plain on her face.
“How is that possible! What are you talking about!”
Looking at her flushed cheeks and the hazy look in her eyes from the buzz, her panicked explanation seemed helpless.
After all, they were close best friends. Teasing aside, she still cared.
Zhou Qining asked her, “Chanchan, are you actually drunk?”
“Be careful—you two’s first time wasn’t because you got drunk…”
“Zhou Zhou!” Song Chan hurriedly cut her off, clasping her hands together in plea for mercy.
She covered her face, her burning cheeks hot to the touch. Song Chan wanted to explain but couldn’t find a reason.
Zhou Qining blinked, reluctantly letting her off the hook.
“Then why were you watching Su Yicen’s interview? You’re paying so much attention to him?”
Song Chan pouted. “If I say I just happened to scroll to it, would you believe me?”
Zhou Qining: “You happened to scroll to it and watched it that intently?”
With a light sigh, Song Chan had no way to refute. It was true she had watched intently, but that interview clip really had come up by chance…
But her inner turmoil was clearly skipped over by Zhou Qining.
She asked her, “Chanchan, be honest. Do you like Su Yicen?”
Song Chan, who had just argued with him last night, whipped her head back at the question and immediately denied it.
“How could I like him? I’m not stupid!”
“Really?” Zhou Qining pressed with a smile.
Meeting her gaze, Song Chan’s little secret thoughts seemed to be seen right through.
But she still stubbornly shot back, “I’m not stupid. The celebrities and elites chasing me could line up two streets long. Why would I like some ice-block face…”
Her voice grew quieter, her confidence waning.
Deep down, Song Chan knew that at some point, she had developed feelings for Su Yicen that went far beyond normal friendship.
Not bound by the secret marriage agreement, but something that could truly be called liking.
“Fine—” Zhou Qining drew out the word. Since she wasn’t willing to admit it, she wouldn’t push.
Continuing their bestie banter, she joked, “Then you’re just craving his body, right?”
With a humph, Song Chan didn’t deny it and jokingly replied.
“We’ve already slept together. So what if I’m craving his body?”
Click—
The sound of the door closing rang out. Song Chan looked up to see Su Yicen walking in slowly.
In that instant their gazes met, half the drunken haze in her eyes scattered in shock.
He acted as if nothing was wrong, his calm face unruffled, as though he hadn’t heard their bestie conversation at all.
Only when he drew near did he ask in a light tone.
“Talking about me?”
Looking up into his eyes, the drunken haze in Song Chan’s gaze was hard to hide.
Torn between whether Su Yicen had heard or not, Song Chan chose to delude herself.
He hadn’t heard a single word!
“No!” Song Chan answered crisply. “Bestie talk—you shouldn’t pry.”
Hearing the voice, Zhou Qining on the other end of the screen knew it was time for her to bow out.
She drawled playfully, “Looks like Top Star Su is back. I won’t disturb your alone time…”
Her eyes blinked meaningfully. Before Song Chan could react, the video call ended.
The suddenly quiet living room was left only with the tablet endlessly repeating “Makabaka.”
The pastries he carried were placed on the table—Song Chan’s favorite brand.
“Drinking?” he asked, then added, “Want me to join you?”
The childish voice was cute, but hearing it too many times grew annoying.
Song Chan reached to turn it off, but her hand slipped down, and the interview clip replayed before her eyes.
Seeing this, she hurriedly powered off the tablet.
But the man beside her had seen it and had no intention of letting her off.
“So Chanchan’s hobby is secretly watching my interviews at home?”
“Never expected you’d pay so much attention to me.”
“Who’s paying attention to you! It just got pushed to me…”
The more she spoke, the guiltier Song Chan felt. Her buzzed brain uncontrollably recalled the interview words.
“Someone said she craves my body…”
Song Chan’s gaze involuntarily slid down to Su Yicen’s waist and abs, swallowing the saliva her mouth secreted unconsciously.
Under his watchful eyes, her little movements were all too obvious.
Su Yicen smiled happily. He hooked his lips, took Song Chan’s wrist, and guided her hand to the muscles at his waist and abs.
Drawing out his ending, he teased, “Miss Song, if you want to touch, just touch. No need to hold back.”
“My body management’s been good lately. Does Miss Song want to inspect the goods?”
Her already racing heart grew even more flustered from his sudden action.
Song Chan yanked her wrist free. “I don’t.”
As she struggled, the silk nightgown collar slipped, revealing the black camisole straps underneath.
The thin black straps contrasted sharply with her fair skin, her prominent collarbone deeply indented, drawing the gaze inescapably.
Su Yicen’s hand naturally rose to pull up the slipped collar, but it deliberately hooked onto her camisole strap.
Snap—
The crisp sound was the strap snapping against her skin.
This snap seemed to scatter her drunkenness, yet pulled her deeper into another abyss.
His hand straightened her clothes but didn’t leave, lingering on her shoulder with an ambiguously rubbing touch on her skin.
Su Yicen always liked doing this, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger and playing with it.
Meeting her drunken eyes, he emphasized in a warning tone.
“Miss Song, you’re drunk.”
“If you make moves on me, you have to take responsibility.”
Song Chan was speechless and swatted away Su Yicen’s hand that toyed with her hair.
Who was making moves on whom right now?
And she was sober! At most just a little tipsy.
“What responsibility should I take?”
He lowered his gaze, his dark eyes full of her, the implication clear in his words.
“We’re both adults, Miss Song. What responsibility do you think?”
Helpless against this outwardly proper beast before her, whose mind filled with nothing healthy whenever they shared space, only dirty thoughts.
Song Chan shot back irritably, “Being a irresponsible slag woman sounds pretty good.”
At her words, he reacted as if greatly wronged and immediately rejected it.
“That won’t do.”
He tallied her crimes.
“Song Chan, you slept with me first. You said you crave my body…”
The accused lifted her head. The faint anger in her drunken eyes vanished the moment it met Su Yicen’s face, leaving only a chaotic heartbeat.
Her gaze lingered on his brows. His alluring, refined features were sharply defined, carrying an icy, noble aura.
Su Yicen was damnably handsome. Even as an extreme face-connoisseur, Song Chan found his looks hit all her preferences.
Her eyes trailed to his half-open collar, where a mole on his collarbone peeked out between the parted fabric, capturing her gaze—she really wanted to bite it.
The distance closed with each breath, the ambiguous atmosphere thickening.
She hadn’t drunk more, yet Song Chan felt even drunker. She shook her head, forcing her gaze away from him.
“Stop seducing me.”
Su Yicen, who had done nothing, asked with interest, “Am I… seducing you?”
Suddenly, a glint flashed in his dark eyes, his words matter-of-fact.
“Of course I have to seduce Miss Song. After all, your suitors could line up two streets.”
“Good thing you crave my body, so I can rely on sleeping my way up.”
Song Chan’s dodging eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment at his shameless words.
She hadn’t expected him to have overheard her talk with Zhou Qining.
Song Chan refused to back down. After a moment of shyness, she clenched her fist, lifted her chin, and faced him.
“So what?”
Borrowing the alcohol’s courage, she grabbed Su Yicen’s half-open collar, yanked him close, and told him word for word.
“So what if I crave your body.”
Watching his upturned lips, Song Chan’s gaze lingered there. She held his neck, leaned up, and her red lips tentatively brushed his in a green kiss.
The sudden kiss stunned Su Yicen. Before he could savor it, Song Chan pulled back, intending to flee after the peck.
He pulled her back, somewhat domineeringly cradling her nape and gnawing at her soft lips. The plundering kiss stole her breath, the faint sweet fruit wine scent mixed with her taste swallowed by him.
Only when she was gasping for air did he release her.
His cool voice softened, husky with desire.
“Miss Song kissed me first, and now you want to run?”
“You kissed me, so you have to take responsibility.”
He leaned in, whispering hotly by her ear, his scorching breath spraying her earlobe.
“The fire you started, you have to put out yourself.”
With that, Su Yicen gave Song Chan no time to prepare. He suddenly scooped her up and headed to the bedroom.
Meeting her panicked eyes, he kissed her lips again.
He helped position her legs around his waist, his palm stroking her skin, stirring ripples in her heart.
He placed her on the bed. His hand tugged at the collar, blocked by his shirt buttons.
Su Yicen looked down at Song Chan, whose face was flushed red.
He asked her, “Wife, you want it too, right?”
Song Chan didn’t answer. She shyly closed her eyes, then couldn’t help but open them a crack to peek.
Su Yicen’s warm, large hand gently grasped her wrist. He guided her hand to unbutton his shirt.
Her soft fingers inevitably brushed over his firm chest.
Su Yicen let out a muffled grunt. Having held back for so long, his desire had long been stirring. He leaned down toward her.
“Then trouble you, wife, to personally inspect the goods tonight.”
“As for the reward, I’ll definitely make you satisfied.”