Тhe girl was sоftеr thаn vеlvеt. A gorgeоus rоse, bloоming and withering аgаin аnd аgаin; а sealеd berry bursting open. As thе tidе of рassiоn rесеded, shе аskеd him if thе wоunds on his bоdy still hurt.
His tonguе, рarсhed by the firе in his heart, сould not fоrm а singlе соmрlеte sentеnсe. Wеi Qingуuе simplу kissed hеr hаir over аnd оver.
Jiаng Du had scratсhed his back, sо thе first thing hе did was tаke her hand аnd hоld it undеr the light tо insресt it. Оh, Jiаng Du’s nails nееded trimming. Тheу were рink and tеndеr, likе flowеr реtаls, but it was cleаr their owner hadn't put muсh effort into grоoming them, nоr had shе gоne tо get a manicure like other trendy girls her age.
“How about I trim your nails for you?” Wei Qingyue asked her. There were some unsightly scars scattered across his lean, firm muscles. Jiang Du agreed, leaning in to press a light kiss against the scar on his shoulder, her face burning hot and red.
Wei Qingyue stroked her face, then got out of bed to find the nail clippers. He began to trim Jiang Du’s nails.
Her hand felt as if it had no bones, its color like fine porcelain. Just like the rest of her body, Wei Qingyue was constantly amazed by her paleness; he hadn't thought a person could be born this white, yet at this moment, she resembled a sweet, blushing peach.
As the crescent-shaped nail clippings fell, his movements were meticulous. He didn’t forget to ask, “How’s my handiwork?”
“Not that great, it seems,” Jiang Du whispered, her head lowered. Her fluffy hair hung like clouds on both sides, hiding her smile so he couldn't see her face.
Wei Qingyue didn’t believe her. “Nonsense, what’s wrong with how I trimmed them?” He spread her hand out in his palm, pinched it with his thumb, and lifted it high against the light. “They couldn’t be more beautiful. No one else could have given you such a perfect curve.”
Jiang Du’s face remained a deep shade of crimson. She said softly, “Have you always been this narcissistic?”
Wei Qingyue gave a disdainful laugh. “How can you call this narcissism? It’s just an objective fact. I can do anything well if I put my mind to it.”
“Then why did your startup go bankrupt?” Jiang Du continued in a small voice.
Wei Qingyue looked perfectly unbothered. “I sold myself for a high price. Not everyone is worth that much.”
Jiang Du’s gaze landed softly on the duvet beside them. She said, “Oh, you’re so expensive. What should I do if I don’t have much money?”
“What?” Wei Qingyue was momentarily dazed. His bathrobe was worn haphazardly, hanging loose. He seemed to snap out of it then, taking Jiang Du’s face in his hands. His eyes were sincere yet thick with desire, his breath fanning across her face. “If it’s you, I don’t want money. How about I give you money instead? I’ll give you all my money.”
He spoke as if he were drunk.
Jiang Du had to try very hard to suppress her smile.
Wei Qingyue pulled back again. He picked up the nail clippings he had just trimmed, wrapped them in a tissue, and placed them in the nightstand.
Jiang Du tugged at him. “Why are you wrapping those up?”
Wei Qingyue simply smiled and closed the drawer. He got up to pour her a glass of warm water. Wherever he went, Jiang Du’s eyes followed. Wei Qingyue was barefoot, walking silently across the carpet.
Once she finished the water, he pressed down over her again, pinning her shoulders as they lay back down. He began to touch her, and the bed seemed to sink in a large dip.
Jiang Du didn't dare look into his eyes, her breathing becoming increasingly ragged.
But Wei Qingyue suddenly frowned. He said abruptly, “The sheets seem wet? Can’t you feel it?”
Jiang Du’s entire face flushed. She stiffly pushed him away and sat up, saying, “It... it seems so.”
Wei Qingyue pulled open the wardrobe, took out a fresh set of sheets and a duvet cover, and tossed them at Jiang Du’s face. He asked, “I hate changing these the most. Can you handle it?”
Jiang Du pulled the sheet away, her head popping out with her hair as messy as a bird's nest.
She began to change the sheets and the duvet cover, but her strength was still so meager. She couldn't shake them out properly, and they fell onto the bed in a crumpled mess.
Wei Qingyue had been watching with his arms crossed, but after a few seconds, he walked over and squeezed in beside her, nudging her to the side. “Better let me do it.”
He was strong. When he spread the sheets, the resulting gust of air felt cool as it hit her face.
On the discarded sheet, there was a tiny, dark red mark. It was very small. Wei Qingyue’s movements paused as he leaned in to investigate. Before he could get a close look, Jiang Du snatched it away. Clutching it to her chest, she pursed her lips and asked, “Where’s the washing machine? I’ll go wash it.”
Wei Qingyue laughed, his smile flickering like the light of a cigarette.
Seeing her heading for the balcony, he blocked her path with his arm, refusing to let her go. His gaze was inexplicably teasing. “I haven't asked you yet—how are you feeling?”
Jiang Du ducked her head, trying to slip under his arm, but Wei Qingyue pulled her back, trapping her in the corner by the wardrobe. He leaned down, staring at her without blinking. He snatched the bundled-up sheets and covers directly from her hands, dropped them on the floor, and kicked them aside.
“Forget the laundry. Don't wash them.” Wei Qingyue swept her up in his arms and pressed her onto the bed. While pinching her earlobe, he whispered, “Do you want to 'study' me a bit?”
Jiang Du’s hand hurriedly broke free from his palm. His guidance was very dangerous. Trapped under his control, she couldn't stop trembling and wanted to close her eyes.
Wei Qingyue glanced at the bedside lamp and turned it off. In the darkness, he nibbled on her ear and said, “Don't be so afraid of me, Baby.”
He was imitating her Grandma, calling her "Baby."
Jiang Du’s heart felt as if it were collapsing along with the bed. She suddenly said, “Wei Qingyue, I’m so happy.” As she spoke, she felt like crying. People seemed to grow bolder in the dark. “Are you happy? I want to know if you're happy.”
A laugh escaped Wei Qingyue’s nose. “Silly girl.”
“Are you happy?” Jiang Du asked again.
“I am,” he hinted slyly. “If you’re willing to 'study' me a bit, I’ll be even happier.”
And so, Jiang Du was forced to conduct an in-depth study of his body. Wei Qingyue said, "I have to return the favor; shouldn't I study you as well?"
When they woke up the next morning, Wei Qingyue’s phone was ringing incessantly. Jiang Du hadn't woken up yet, so he got up and took the phone to the balcony to answer. There was an industry salon he needed to attend on short notice.
Wei Qingyue wanted to curse.
For the first time, he felt that work was damn annoying. A salon? Salon my foot.
Hadn't they agreed on not leaving the bed for three to five days?
He was already out of bed, and now he had to find food, look for clothes, and match his shoes. And there was still a "baby" on the bed who needed looking after.
Wei Qingyue rummaged through the fridge. Aside from mineral water, milk, and sports drinks, there was nothing—all liquids.
He just remembered that his kitchen had never been used. Occasionally, his housekeeper would bring him a homemade lunch box, which was his only chance to eat simple, home-cooked food.
Ultimately, Wei Qingyue made instant noodles and told Jiang Du to get up and eat.
One night they were all over each other, full of deep affection, and the very next morning, he was serving her instant noodles.
Jiang Du stared at the noodles in a daze; she didn't have much of an appetite. Wei Qingyue stood with his hands in his pockets, looking like he had a bit of "morning grumpiness." Seeing that she wasn't eating, he pulled the bowl over, took a bite, and said, “Forget it, don’t eat this. I’ll go downstairs and buy you breakfast. What do you want?”
He remembered that her Grandpa was a gourmet. Jiang Du’s stomach was actually quite pampered.
“Then buy some soy milk and boiled corn,” Jiang Du thought for a moment. “The soy milk needs sugar; I like it sweet.”
Wei Qingyue had intended to establish his persona as the perfect, devoted boyfriend who could take care of his girl, but he found it difficult. He couldn't cook; the cooking skills he had picked up while studying in America had long since been swept into the dustbin of history.
After the breakfast was bought, Wei Qingyue ate quickly as usual. Jiang Du was very refined; she pecked at her food slowly like a bird, taking a bite of corn, then a sip of soy milk. The corn had to be chewed thoroughly, and it was as if she were trying to savor some special flavor in the soy milk.
The friction between the two had to start in the morning. She was unhurried, while he liked to settle things quickly.
Wei Qingyue stared at her, coughed, and said, “Jiang Du, have you always eaten this slowly? Aren't you in a hurry for work?”
Jiang Du said seriously, “I don’t sleep in, so I have plenty of time for breakfast. I work nine-to-five, my home is close to the office, and I don’t like eating on the subway.”
…
Wei Qingyue smiled and nodded, still watching her eat. A mischievous glint flashed in his eyes as he said, “Are you a goose?”
Jiang Du looked at him, puzzled.
Wei Qingyue covered his mouth with his hand, masking his teasing smile. “Isn't there a text by Feng Zikai called 'The White Goose'? That goose of his is very methodical with its meals. How does it go? It eats unhurriedly—first a bite of rice, then a sip of water, and finally a mouthful of mud and grass. You're only missing me bringing you a serving of mud mixed with grass.”
Jiang Du’s face reddened. Seeing the smile in his eyes grow wider, a calm, effortless composure finally appeared on her face.
“I’m a goose, but you’re a pig.”
Wei Qingyue was very dissatisfied. “How am I a pig?”
“Like the kind of pig they raise in the countryside—covered in smelly mud. As soon as they hear someone feeding them, they come over and start rooting around, devouring everything. Do you know what pig slop is? The owner spends a long time mixing it, but the pig finishes it in three minutes. That’s exactly how you look when you eat.” Jiang Du suppressed a laugh and continued nibbling her corn.
Wei Qingyue made a clicking sound with his tongue and said, “I thought you were so kind, but you're so vindictive.” He stood up, flicked her forehead, and walked away to find her a key. Attached to it was a brand-new Tweety Bird charm, still in its plastic packaging.
With a clatter, he tossed it onto the table.
“The house key. Take one.”
Jiang Du held it in her palm, her lips curving into a smile. Wei Qingyue, however, turned back and leaned both arms on the dining table, looking at her seriously. “Stop smiling. Can we eat a little faster? I’ll drop you off first.”
“Alright then,” Jiang Du said bashfully. “Actually, I can take the subway myself. You don’t need to go through the trouble.”
Wei Qingyue straightened up. “I want to go through the trouble. I’m happy to.”
He really isn't a likeable fellow, Jiang Du thought secretly. Wei Qingyue had already gone to change. He had to dress more formally today, in a shirt and dress pants. His height had eventually settled at 189 cm—very tall.
His appearance had indeed changed. In the past, he had a thin, youthful air about him, but now, he was handsome, upright, and robust.
Jiang Du noticed his wardrobe wasn't very organized; clothes from all four seasons were hanging together. She said gently, “How about I come over after work and help you organize this?”
As he buttoned his shirt, Wei Qingyue smiled and shot her a sidelong glance. “Little busybody.”
“Who are you calling a busybody? That’s such an old-fashioned term.” Jiang Du felt that Wei Qingyue’s mouth was truly quite annoying.
“You,” he answered briskly. Wei Qingyue’s waist was truly thin—the lean, powerful kind of thin. She had been annoyed that he didn't use a beautiful endearment, but now, Jiang Du’s gaze couldn't help but linger on his waist, her mind filled with messy thoughts.
Wei Qingyue seemed to see through her thoughts instantly. With a wicked smile, he said, “Tonight I’ll turn on the lights and take off my pants so you can have a good look.”
Jiang Du was still easily embarrassed; she had no way of dealing with him. So this was what Wei Qingyue was like—he was so lively. In front of his most intimate lover, he was unscrupulous, flamboyant, and carefree.
The hostility he once carried seemed to have vanished.
He loved to laugh, loved to joke, and his features would relax.
Jiang Du slowly began to smile along with him. The two left the house, and as she sat in his car, Wei Qingyue said, “I’m going to your place tomorrow. You tell the two elders first.”
He was a man of his word. After dropping Jiang Du off, he arranged for Old Luo to help him buy some gifts.
Old Luo asked him, “Is President Wei visiting a friend, or...?”
“Meeting the family. However, my fiancée only has her Grandpa and Grandma at home—two elderly people. Look for things that seniors need; I don’t understand these things.” Wei Qingyue’s tone was light, and his steps were even lighter than his voice.
In his entire life, he had never felt this lighthearted.
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