“Has Chen Boyu ever done it with you in the car?”
After this interlude, Lan Yan no longer had the mood to eat her night snack, but she didn’t want to waste Liang Jingchuan’s efforts either, so she squeezed some lemon juice over it and ate the mackerel pike.
Mackerel pike wasn’t the type with fatty, rich flesh; the meat clung tightly to the bones. Liang Jingchuan watched her pick it off bit by bit with the tips of her chopsticks and laughed that only a cat would sneak off to eat fish in the middle of the night.
After she finished eating, Lan Yan went to brush her teeth. Liang Jingchuan cleaned up the kitchen, took the clothes out of the washing machine, tossed some into the dryer, and hung the rest up to air dry.
He brushed his teeth too, turned off the lights in the bathroom and kitchen, and headed to the living room.
Lan Yan stood by the sofa sending WeChat messages. “Lu Ying wants me to ask if you’re free for dinner tomorrow night.”
“Sure.”
Lan Yan nodded, sent the reply, locked her phone screen, and turned toward the stairs.
Liang Jingchuan followed.
She had just taken two steps up when she heard a soft “click,” and all the lights went out.
She stopped and turned. The high window’s curtains weren’t fully drawn; the chaotic night sky and distant neon lights filtered in, turning into a diluted deep gray that clearly outlined Liang Jingchuan’s figure standing two steps below her.
She stayed silent, and suddenly her heart suspended in her chest.
Liang Jingchuan watched her without a word, as if waiting for something.
After a moment, her phone buzzed, and his voice sounded at the same time. “Happy birthday, Yanyan.”
Lan Yan froze for a second, lowered her eyes, and pressed the side button on her phone. The screen showed “00:00.”
He took a step up, now just one step away from her.
The lit phone screen illuminated their faces, like candlelight on a cake.
Liang Jingchuan looked at her. The dim backlight reflected in his beautiful eyes like two tiny lamps, and he seemed unable to hold back a soft chuckle. “It’s really unbelievable.”
“Hm?”
“After knowing each other for so many years, this is the first time I’ve said happy birthday to you at midnight.”
Lan Yan’s ability to speak failed her as a tidal wave surged in her heart.
“. . . Liang Jingchuan.”
“Yeah?”
“That question you asked me that day . . . do you still remember it?”
Liang Jingchuan nodded. He had asked her if . . . she would push him away.
“I said ‘I don’t know,’ but that wasn’t the truth.”
“So what was the truth?”
Her breath hovered at the tip of her nose, like mist she didn’t dare disturb.
Lan Yan felt like she was back on that first night she’d come to Liang Jingchuan’s house; the palpitations and anxiety at this moment were exactly the same.
“You know the truth . . .”
In the moment of silence, she heard a faint car horn from outside.
The backlight went out.
Her breath was suddenly swallowed up.
In this position, she didn’t have to strain her neck to look up, and the embrace fit without leaving a single gap.
Liang Jingchuan was uncharacteristically a bit rough—this word had never been associated with him before. He was the type who, even in the heat of the moment, would retain a shred of reason if she suddenly called a halt, to respect her wishes.
But this kiss was a complete baring and plundering of desire, without reservation.
It was as if he was confessing another side of himself to her: that night, he had originally harbored such filthy aggression toward her.
“Yanyan . . .”
Lan Yan hummed through her trembling nose.
Her feet left the ground as he suddenly scooped her up. The dim stairs made her lose all sense of security, so she could only wrap her arms tightly around Liang Jingchuan’s neck.
It was a familiar environment after all, and he took steady steps. With her viewpoint higher, it felt like she was climbing toward a dangerous cliff.
Her back landed on the mattress of the platform bed with a bounce from the cushioning, and her loose jacket slipped off her shoulders.
Liang Jingchuan skipped the usual slow preamble and directly lifted the hem of her T-shirt.
Lan Yan looked down shyly and saw her breasts, soft as moldable clay, shaped into various forms in his hands.
Then his palms were replaced by scorching breaths.
He gathered them together as if starved, devouring them both at once to fill an insatiable void.
“Yanyan . . . stop me if you remember.” He was afraid he’d lose control.
Lan Yan bit her lip without speaking and suddenly pulled down the pushed-up T-shirt, completely covering his head with it.
The action was tantamount to silent permission and indulgence.
His breath had nowhere to go, piling up like steam and making her skin burn with pain.
A punishing nip followed, making her gasp sharply.
Liang Jingchuan paused slightly, as if waiting for her to stop him, but she didn’t.
“Liang Jingchuan . . .” The loft’s second floor had a secretive attic-like feel. Perhaps because of that, she could overcome her shyness and speak frankly. “Let me tell you one more thing.”
“. . . Yeah?”
“That day when you were sleeping on the sofa, you didn’t wake up naturally. I . . . I was going to sneak a kiss from you. My breathing must have woken you up.”
Liang Jingchuan froze.
Then all his movements stopped.
He lifted his head, pulled her clothes back down, and rested his forehead heavily on her shoulder with a helpless, bitter laugh. “. . . Are you doing this on purpose?”
“Hm? . . .”
“Saying something so pure at a time like this . . .”
“I . . . I thought you . . .”
“I like it. But I’m not a beast.” Liang Jingchuan looked up with a smile and kissed the corner of her mouth. “You’re so two-faced you could enter the Guinness World Records.”
Lan Yan reached out and gently pinched his earlobe, which was even warmer than her fingertip. “. . . Are you shy?”
“A little. Don’t switch channels so suddenly next time.”
“. . .”
“If I’d backed off even once along the way, I probably wouldn’t have heard that honest confession from you, right?” Liang Jingchuan asked.
“Maybe.”
“Missy, you’re really hard to chase.”
“I’m not . . .”
Shyness was contagious, especially after being yanked back from the edge. She turned her face into his shoulder and asked softly, “. . . Still doing it?”
“I’ve switched to the wellness channel now.”
Lan Yan’s laughter rustled out.
“What I like most is actually holding you while we sleep,” Liang Jingchuan said softly.
“Why?”
“Because before I close my eyes and after I open them, I can see you right away.”
“. . . You’ve maxed out your credits in sweet talk class. No need to keep taking advanced courses, thanks. Honestly, hearing too much of it is a bit cheesy—mmph . . . why’d you kiss me all of a sudden!”
“Didn’t I say I’d block your mouth if you talk ugly?” His voice dropped an octave, right against her ear. “Yanyan, be a little more honest with your other mouth.”
As soon as he finished speaking, he pinned her arms to stop her from getting up, chuckling. “My bad, don’t go grab the CD player.”
The next morning, after playfully tussling through their morning routine, they headed out. Lan Yan arrived at Mend Orchid Studio just in time, barely avoiding being late.
Though it wasn’t on his way, Liang Jingchuan dropped her off first before going to work. He parked on the roadside within the temporary stopping limit, pinned her in the passenger seat, and kissed her thoroughly for a full three minutes before letting her go.
She hoped the honeymoon phase would pass soon, or she’d really get cavities.
The eight-foot masterpiece by Dong Bangda that she was restoring with her master had entered the “patching” phase. The tears and holes were varied and complex, a massive project that tested patience to the extreme.
At work, Lan Yan had patience in spades. All morning, aside from drinking water and using the bathroom, she stayed bent over the mounting table without moving.
Chu Lansun was at the other end of the table, focused on tackling the most difficult tear.
Sister Rong came over and said to Chu Lansun, “Master Chu, President Ye said he’ll be in South City on a business trip in a couple days and wants to visit Mend Orchid Studio to check on the painting and treat you to dinner.”
Chu Lansun replied, “He can visit, but dinner’s not necessary. Please pass on the message that every painting sent to Mend Orchid Studio is treated equally. Since it’s in our hands, we’ll handle it responsibly.”
Sister Rong nodded. “Got it. I’ll arrange the visit time.”
Once Sister Rong left, Lan Yan rubbed the edge of a patch while asking Chu Lansun, “Master, the person who sent this painting over—is their surname Ye?”
Lan Yan usually didn’t pry into clients’ affairs, but “President Ye” mentioned by Sister Rong was hard to ignore.
“Yes. Seems like some investor. Elder Tang introduced him . . . why, do you know him?”
“Is it President Ye from Radiant Chess Ventures?”
“No idea.”
The restoration progress had always been coordinated by this President Ye’s assistant. For the restoration work, the painting itself was what mattered most—who it came from or who owned it wasn’t important. Without ambitions to curry favor, there was no need to dig into the background.
But Lan Yan figured it was that President Ye who’d gotten an invitation from Chen Boyu and attended Tang Wangxiang’s elegant gathering.
Since Tang Wangxiang had recommended him, he must have become a guest at the Tang Family.
At lunch break, Lan Yan ate with Xue Mengqiu and Zhou Wenshu as usual. Since it was her birthday, they treated her and gave her gifts.
Xue Mengqiu teased, “Not spending your birthday with your brother-in-law?”
“We usually celebrate the day before at home.” Lan Yan smiled. “He said he wants to treat you two, Senior Sister, to dinner this Friday night—if that’s convenient.”
For their semi-familiar relationship, inviting them on a Friday evening was perfect—not too casual for a weekday, not too formal for pulling them out on a weekend.
Xue Mengqiu said, “No problem for me.”
Lan Yan looked at Zhou Wenshu. “What about you, Wenshu?”
Zhou Wenshu swallowed a sip of tea. “. . . Convenient.”
Lan Yan’s phone vibrated. She thought it was another birthday wish, but it was a message from Liang Jingchuan.
【ljc: Can I take you to a movie after dinner?】
Lan Yan couldn’t suppress her smile.
【blueblue: No.】
【ljc: I’ll carry you into the theater.】
【blueblue: Then what were you trying to ask?】
【ljc: Just going through the motions.】
Lan Yan looked up from her phone screen to find Xue Mengqiu propping her chin and grinning at her.
Her face heated as she locked her phone.
Xue Mengqiu said, “Looks like this brother-in-law is even more likable, huh?”
Lan Yan couldn’t parry and took a sip of water from her cup.
After lunch, Lan Yan went home to change clothes, then returned to Mend Orchid Studio to keep working.
She busied away until six in the afternoon, preserved the painting, grabbed her bag, and left the little building.
The car picking her up was already there, parked in the courtyard.
Lan Yan walked over, opened the door, and pink roses sitting on the seat jumped into view.
She picked up the flowers, climbed into the seat, buckled her seatbelt, and hugged the bouquet to her chest.
Liang Jingchuan, with his arm draped over the steering wheel, straightened up, glanced at her, looked away, then glanced again.
“. . . What are you looking at?”
Liang Jingchuan started the car. “. . . You changed into a skirt.”
“Yeah . . . not for you, don’t flatter yourself.”
“Why would you think I’d assume that?” Liang Jingchuan laughed. “Or is someone trying to cover it up but making it more obvious?”
“. . . Drive.”
Liang Jingchuan was treating today, and he’d chosen the restaurant, reserving a spot in advance.
It was a French restaurant with a quiet ambiance. Lu Ying arrived first and stuffed flowers and a gift into Lan Yan’s arms upon meeting.