Love for You

"Didn't you plan to sleep with me?" she asked softly. "You were already rubbing against me back then."

"Didn't plan to sleep with you." He pinched her chin. "But you rolled onto me on your own and said you wanted to thank me. Can't blame me for not holding back—I'm no saint either. That period felt like a dream, releasing twenty years of pent-up fire. The more we did it, the crazier it got; the crazier it got, the more decadent we became. The blood in my body surged and boiled, almost burning up. Drenched in sweat, collapsed on the bed, I wondered if it was contentment or regret to end it like that."

He let out a long sigh, reached into his pants pocket for a cigarette case, tilted his head to light one, and smoked in silence.

Finally, he lowered his brows and murmured, "Three years later, I visited you at your school and finally felt at peace. Thinking about it, these twenty-some years of my life—no great achievements, no major failures—settling like dust isn't so bad."

"Returned to Tengcheng to eat, drink, and idle away my days. Never expected that three years later, you'd come running back to me... In the blink of an eye, here I am in this secluded village, still able to lift my head and gaze at this vast world. Fate hasn't been too harsh on me—able to grow up safely, escape death, and have someone to rely on."

He held her close, looked up at the magnificent, starry sky, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Miao Jing nestled against his arm, also gazing up at the sky, watching a shooting star streak across the horizon with quiet serenity.

"Miao Jing." He suddenly turned, his gaze deep and fixed on her, calmly uttering his final words. "You're... damn well my savior."

Propping her cheek, she smiled radiantly and ruffled his fluffy, large head.

"Shall we go back to sleep? After all this talking... I feel like tonight, I need to hold you tight and sleep well, peacefully." She chuckled. "When we wake up tomorrow, the sun will be brand new."

"Okay."

They rose from their chairs. Miao Jing, holding her skirt, took a few quick steps forward, then couldn't resist looking back, her sparkling eyes meeting his, a soft smile playing on her lips.

"After all we've talked about tonight, I want to say a couple of things too..."

"Well... I've actually always been quite well-behaved and obedient... During those two years in high school, my rebellion was intentional, scolding you was intentional, arguing with you was intentional, making you worry and fret was intentional. That incident late at night, the intruder who was never found, the broken lock at home, the smashed window... all of it was a lie I made up."

Chen Yi, cigarette dangling from his lips, froze in stunned silence for three seconds. "What?"

"Otherwise, you'd have hooked up with some woman long ago and had no mind to care about me." She scratched her cheek. "So... Chen Yi, you don't need to keep such a tight watch on me now. Can you give me just a little... space to breathe?"

"Miao Jing!!!" He snapped out of it, planting his hands on his hips and roaring. "You've been lying to me since we were kids?!!!!!"

Seeing his anger, she giggled sweetly, picked up her white skirt, and dashed away swiftly, like a fluttering butterfly in the night, a graceful bird, lightly flying back to her room.

Chapter 50: Marry Me? (Part 1)

Early in the morning, the landlord Pierre was arguing with the housekeeper Liya again, over a missing bag of bread.

The TV news reported an explosion in the slums, with several casualties, and the police strongly condemning such cowardly terrorist attacks.

Chen Yi set down his phone and told Miao Jing that a domestic tourist had been robbed yesterday, stabbed while resisting, and was hospitalized. Fortunately, his life wasn't in danger, but it had stirred up fear and anxiety.Bogotá is blessed with both abundant sunshine and rain. The entire city is divided into levels from 1 to 6, where the poor struggle to feed themselves while the wealthy indulge in extravagance—much like the magical and realistic capital described by literary figures. When Miao Jing chose Colombia, she had bet that Chen Yi would inevitably follow her. As she expected, her movements in Bogotá were almost entirely restricted to specific zones, never having the chance to go out alone. Wanting freedom? Dream on.

Si Nan and Miao Jing signed up for a Salsa dance class. On weekends, Chen Yi drove them to their lessons, spending the entire hour smoking outside the classroom. The male Salsa instructor couldn't avoid Chen Yi's gloomy, irritated gaze, simmering with suppressed fury.

If the blue-eyed dance teacher could speak normally, Chen Yi's expression would undoubtedly be much friendlier.

"Can I take a photo with you? I want to show my friends that angels really do exist."

The first time she heard this line, Miao Jing couldn't help but laugh. The sweet words she rarely heard from Chen Yi were all compensated by other men.

During casual chats after class, the male teacher asked Miao Jing which neighborhood she lived in. Before she could answer, he suddenly realized, "Ah, I know—you live in my heart."

Such blatant flirting left Miao Jing momentarily stunned. Si Nan, who was more fluent in Spanish, calmly drank half a bottle of water and screwed the cap back on without batting an eye.

Used to it. They're all like this.

Although it didn't cross into sexual harassment, the constant flirting and teasing in daily life—the direct, unreserved enthusiasm and compliments aimed straight at her—took Miao Jing a long time to get used to.

Dating culture is rampant here, and breakups and makeups among couples are common. Relationships between men and women aren't taken too seriously. It wasn't unusual for people to hit on Miao Jing right in front of Chen Yi at restaurants and bars, which eventually led to him scowling darkly, glaring fiercely as if ready for a fight.

Did they think his 187 cm frame was just for show?

Men in Latin America are like golden retrievers—clingy, passionate, wagging their tails and panting with adoration, their eyes full of you. But after a little teasing, they might turn and run off with someone else.

Chen Yi, on the other hand, is more like a stray dog—quiet, tail drooping, eyes fixed intently, occasionally baring his teeth with a low growl as a warning. In his fiercest moments, he'd bite your neck and pin you to the bed, only to lazily ruffle his fur afterward, repeating the cycle until his prey is devoured without a trace.

Miao Jing had suffered plenty under his antics—like politely smiling at an incredibly handsome waiter or chatting a bit too long with a Nordic backpacker, not to mention some uncontrollable text messages. In the end, the nightstand drawer was stuffed with small foil packets in various colors, with a staggering annual consumption.

The atmosphere here is open and permissive about sex—anytime, anywhere, it's fine.

"Don't use work as an excuse. If you don't go wild now, are you going to wait until retirement?" he said flippantly. "It's just like eating—once you stretch your appetite, you get used to it."