Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
Song Ci looked up and waved at Han Zhan. “Brother Han, come quickly.”
Han Zhan strode in. “What are you doing?” Han Zhan stood behind Song Ci, placed his hands on the arms of the chair, and looked down at her every movement.
Song Ci looked up at him and smiled radiantly. Her eyes were sparkling as she opened and closed her mouth, revealing her pearly white teeth. “I drew a table here. Write it down for me.”
Han Zhan’s gaze lingered on her red lips for a few more seconds before he took the paper and looked down.
Brother Han’s likes:
Food he likes:
Food he dislikes:
Interests and hobbies:
Things he hates:
Han Zhan asked, “Must I write it?” He had never written this before. Even when he was writing his alumni record after graduating from high school, it was not so detailed.
“Yes.” Song Ci said, “We are husband and wife now. I have to understand you.”
Han Zhan placed that piece of paper on the table. Due to his height, he could write easily just by bending over slightly. Meanwhile, Song Ci was also in Han Zhan’s arms, along with her chair. She lowered her head slightly and rested it against Han Zhan’s chest. At such a close distance, Song Ci felt slightly uneasy.
However, Han Zhan’s expression was calm. The tip of his pen circled the paper as he wrote beautifully. Song Ci felt Han Zhan’s strong heartbeat coming from above her head. Her heartbeat also became chaotic and irregular.
Song Ci tried her best to focus on the paper, but Han Zhan’s presence was too strong and she couldn’t ignore him at all. She could smell Han Zhan’s cold aura, and if she lifted her head slightly, she could kiss Han Zhan’s collarbone under the two buttons of his collar…
Song Ci grabbed the chair with her fingers, feeling very restless.
Han Zhan didn’t know how chaotic Song Ci was feeling. He wrote on a piece of paper:
His favorite foods: meat, fermented beancurd parsley, chives, steamed eggs, cloves…
Food he didn’t like: pickled vegetables, bitter gourd, Japanese food.
Interests and hobbies: Shooting, riding, racing, bamboo weaving…
Things he hated: Wasting Food…
The word “waste food” had just been written when suddenly, a breath of hot air blew onto his face. Han Zhan’s eyes shifted slightly as he looked down at Song Ci with much warning. “Don’t be mischievous.”
“Brother Han, can you bring forward what we are going to do tomorrow night to tonight?” Song Ci, who had been silent the entire time, spoke up and stunned Han Zhan.
The tip of the pen was forcefully on the A4 paper.
Han Zhan’s Adam’s apple was big and sexy. It was the toughest shield in front of his throat. At this point, that shield couldn’t help but roll up and down. It wasn’t protecting its owner’s throat—it was a metal door that locked the most ferocious wild beast.
Song Ci knew what Han Zhan was worried about. She tugged at his collar gently with her right hand and said with a red face, “We are already husband and wife…”
“No regrets?” Han Zhan pressed his nose against Song Ci’s forehead. His restrained voice still couldn’t conceal his desire.
Song Ci’s breath hitched as she nodded firmly. “No regrets.”
With that, Han Zhan released his left hand and the fountain pen landed on the table. Song Ci flew into the air and was pulled into Han Zhan’s arms. She returned to the room. As the door locked, Song Ci had no room to retreat.
At 12.30am, Han Zhan finally let Song Ci off. Her eyes were slightly red as she laid weakly on the sofa with the thin blanket covering her. She wasn’t feeling well, not because of the pain, but because she felt like she was missing something.
Song Ci couldn’t help but feel slightly worried.
Han Zhan was changing the bedsheets. He had already showered and there were a few scratches left by a girl’s fingernails on his scarred back.
After laying down the bedsheets, Han Zhan turned around. Although he didn’t look burly, he was full of vigor. Song Ci was still sizing him up, her eyes fixed on him without any reservations.
This was her husband and it wasn’t a crime to look at him. Han Zhan didn’t mind being looked at like this by Song Ci. He tightened the towel around his waist, walked over, lowered his head, and asked Song Ci, “Are you going to sleep?”
Song Ci said, “So tired…” With that, Song Ci suddenly shut up. Is this still my voice? It is dry and raspy.
Han Zhan considerately carried Song Ci up from the sofa, placed her on the bed, turned around, and left the room to do something.
Song Ci was sweating profusely and her short hair was sticking to her neck. Her eyelids felt heavy as she laid on the bed. She felt like sleeping.
At this moment, Han Zhan returned with a transparent glass filled with honey water. Han Zhan patted Song Ci’s cheek. Song Ci woke up and was dazedly fed a few mouthfuls of honey water by Han Zhan.
Her throat really did feel better.
Han Zhan put down the cup and took off his towel to change into pyjamas. Song Ci suddenly thought of something and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already past midnight and she smiled ambiguously.
Han Zhan looked at her in confusion. “What are you laughing at?”
Song Ci pointed at the clock on the wall. She said in an intriguing manner, “It was a total of four hours from the foreplay to the end of the shower.”
Han Zhan also glanced at the clock.
It was already 12.30am.
Understanding Song Ci’s hint, Han Zhan felt slightly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know my limits.” Song Ci’s attraction to Han Zhan was deeper than he thought. He had lost control tonight and couldn’t restrain himself.
It was very difficult for a clean man in his thirties to control himself after suddenly tasting it.
Han Zhan stared at Song Ci’s lovely lips, thought carefully, and answered honestly, “It’s very difficult in front of you.”
Oh my god, what seductive words are those?
I have been ambushed!
Song Ci turned over and buried her face in the pillow, too embarrassed to look at Han Zhan.
Previously, Song Ci complained that Han Zhan’s leather glove was uncomfortable against her skin, so she told him to take it off. Han Zhan hesitated for a moment before cooperating with her to take off his glove. Now that Song Ci was going to sleep, Han Zhan sat on the other side of the bed and planned to put on his fake fingers himself.
Song Ci suddenly reached out, snatched away his fake fingers, and placed them on the dresser. She said, “What are you wearing so late at night? It’s superfluous.”
Han Zhan wanted to say that he was afraid of scaring her. After a moment of silence, Han Zhan spoke the truth. “If you wake up in the morning and suddenly see a hand with only three fingers, you will be scared.”
Song Ci stared at Han Zhan’s face with a complex gaze. Her lips moved a few times. Song Ci really wanted to tell Han Zhan that his hands were really not that ugly. “Then I’ll sleep outside while you sleep inside. This way, when I wake up, I’ll see your left hand.”
Han Zhan added, “I’m afraid that my right hand will hug you involuntarily after I fall asleep.”
Song Ci wanted to roll her eyes again. She said unhappily, “Why don’t we just amputate it then?” He’s so wishy-washy and troublesome.
Han Zhan knew that Song Ci was angry and didn’t insist on it. He put down his fake fingers and laid down on the other side. After cohabiting with Song Ci, this was the first time Han Zhan took off his gloves to sleep, and it felt pretty good.