“There’s no reason to be unhappy.” Yu Lingxin deliberately refused to say why.
Jiang Nong probably hadn’t noticed, but right now she wasn’t racking her brain over how to make their relationship more “fair.” She wasn’t agonizing over how to make up for three lifetimes’ worth of difference, or desperately trying to please him.
She could get angry. She could show a little willfulness.
If Yu Lingxin pointed it out, she’d start another great spiral of overthinking—he’d never seen anyone so good at tormenting themselves.
He wished Jiang Nong would be more spoiled with him, boss him around, order him about, treat him with the imperiousness she’d never shown anyone else.
It gave him a sense of security and satisfaction—both because it meant she saw him as someone special, someone she didn’t have to pretend with, and because it meant he was taking good care of her.
“You’re so strange.” Jiang Nong lay cradled in his arms, lightly tapping his lower lip with her slender fingers.
When she spoke to him politely, he’d sulk. When she was rude to him, he’d be overjoyed—almost insane. If it were just a psychological quirk, he didn’t act that way with anyone else. The slightest defiance from others, and he’d be calling for blood.
She’d studied him for a long time and still couldn’t quite figure out Yu Lingxin’s mind. Maybe perverse minds were just inherently hard to fathom. If she could understand him completely, she’d be Yu Lingxin.
He took her finger into his mouth, his warm, wet tongue tracing her fingertip, ticklish. She tried to pull back, but he followed. She pulled back again, moving away before he could bite—and he kept chasing her hand.
At first, Jiang Nong had felt bad about this—like she was teasing a puppy, maybe disrespectful. She’d felt guilty. But now she’d come around: Yu Lingxin was having fun himself. If she didn’t play with him, he’d be unhappy.
Well… to be honest, she was having fun too. Especially when he was circling around her, wagging his tail—it made her want to tease him even more.
She loved the feeling of Yu Lingxin being completely focused on her, orbiting around her, even happy when she got angry for no reason. It made her heart warm and full. She loved this feeling.
Maybe she really was a bad woman. But she was also a good one—because she only played this game with Yu Lingxin.
She teased him for a while, and he let her. Her pale fingers traced across his cheek, his nose, then darted away like a dragonfly—he couldn’t catch them. He looked up at her with a hint of grievance.
Jiang Nong noticed, laughed, and stopped teasing him. She ran her index finger over his soft lower lip, and he took it into his warm, wet mouth like a eager puppy, then let it out, sniffing her palm and kissing it.
His kisses tickled even more, and she giggled in his arms: “Don’t you find me heavy? Put me down.”
Yu Lingxin bounced her slightly: “Not at all. You’re not heavy.” Then he buried his face in the crook of her neck, gently nibbling the skin over her collarbone.
Jiang Nong loved burying her face in his neck, and he loved burying his in hers. The neck was the most vulnerable part of the body—the pulse beating beneath thin, resilient skin, the place where a person’s scent was strongest.
Smelling each other’s scent brought them comfort.
Compared to earlier years, Jiang Nong had not only grown taller but had also filled out a little.
In the past, to dance, to please her parents, she’d always dieted—starving herself to tears at night, thin as paper. Light, yes, but pale and lacking in color. Now, she had more warmth, more luster, plumper—scented and soft, like warm milk, like warm, smooth white jade.
Yu Lingxin was the authority on this. He could clearly feel the difference—from when she’d been so light in his arms, her bones digging into him, to now, when she had some substance.
“Hey, I’m serious. You’re not even angry that I said I’d throw the clothes out?” Jiang Nong suddenly remembered why they’d gotten all tangled up and tried to pry Yu Lingxin away from her chest.
“If you don’t like them, burn them all. I’ll have new ones made. I have bad taste—you don’t like anything I choose.” Yu Lingxin lowered his eyes, looking rather pitiful and magnanimous.
He knew exactly what she was up to—so what? He liked playing the victim sometimes, making her feel sorry for him and comfort him.
Oh dear…
Jiang Nong couldn’t stand it when he was like that. She hooked her arms around his neck and stroked his head: “That’s not what I meant. Don’t talk like that. Your taste is fine—it’s just that I don’t want you to keep shortchanging yourself. I don’t want to see you suffer either.”
Love made people blind. Jiang Nong had probably gone blind loving Yu Lingxin.
Yu Lingxin, suffering—those words didn’t belong in the same sentence. She’d completely forgotten all the shameless things he’d said to her back in the day.
Yu Lingxin had always been the type to make everyone else miserable rather than suffer himself—if everyone blamed him, then it was clearly everyone else’s fault.
At this moment, he should have reminded Jiang Nong of that. But it would ruin the mood—she was feeling sorry for him right now.
Her collar had somehow been nuzzled open, revealing a large expanse of skin, and the pale, soft hollows between her breasts where her arms hooked around his neck.
He’d already rolled them onto the bed without her realizing. She only noticed when he sat down—well, this was easier on his arms anyway. She pressed him: “I’m talking to you—why aren’t you answering? You don’t have to give me your entire allowance. We just need to tighten things up a little for these two months…”
Yu Lingxin kissed her temple: “Kiss me.”
She blinked at him, confused: “Did you hear a single word I said? Don’t play dumb with me.”
He kissed the back of her head again: “I’m happy. I don’t care about new clothes. I like seeing you in beautiful clothes. I like watching your eyes light up over new outfits. I like seeing you twirl in front of me in something pretty, asking if you look good.”
Well… what could she even say to that?
Her face flushed bright red. She covered it and bumped her forehead against his collarbone: “Don’t say such mushy things.”
“Then cover my mouth.”
Jiang Nong raised her hand to cover his mouth—but he gently nibbled her palm, and she yanked it back.
“Are you a dog? Biting me again? Didn’t you tell me to cover it?”
Yu Lingxin leaned down, pried open her lips, and tangled his tongue with hers, sucking gently. He mumbled: “This is the only way to make me quiet.”
He’d gotten so good at kissing—it felt rather nice. Jiang Nong was drifting dizzily when he laid her down, loosened her sash, and slipped his hand inside, stroking up along her waist, kneading—and she jolted awake. This wasn’t a good dog; he had bad intentions.
She made a small noise, turned her head away, breathless, trying to push him—but her body had gone soft from his kisses and touches, weak: “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Heh.” Yu Lingxin let out a low laugh—she didn’t know what was so funny. He cupped her face and turned it back, licking the corner of her mouth, looking at her with pleading eyes: “Sister, weren’t you just saying you felt sorry for me? I’m so uncomfortable right now—now you don’t feel sorry for me anymore? How can you be so cruel?”
He deliberately held her tighter.
He really was awful—using her own words against her. He probably knew she wouldn’t refuse him. But Jiang Nong thought: she was no saint either!
Her lips were swollen and rosy from kissing, her eyes rimmed with red, her whole body flushed pink and dewy. She raised her weak arms, cupped his head, and pressed a feather-light kiss to the corner of his mouth. Her petal-soft lips parted slightly as she panted, the tip of her tongue glistening behind her white teeth.
She whispered: “Are you going to be good?”
Yu Lingxin’s eyes went wide. His muscles tensed, his breathing quickened.
Jiang Nong noticed the change and found it amusing. Her fingers traced along his face, gliding down to his chest: “Then be good, and Sister will help you—okay?”
Yu Lingxin was spellbound, his nose tingling. He touched it—thankfully nothing embarrassing happened.
His reason slipped away. He was shaking with excitement—this was the first time Jiang Nong had been so forward. His voice was hoarse as he grunted, calling “Sister” over and over, begging her to help him.
Jiang Nong wasn’t going to let him off easily. She was a little shy at first, but seeing Yu Lingxin so utterly entranced, his eyes reddened—she found her confidence, and even a hint of pride.
She took his hand and guided it over her lips, her collarbone.
Yu Lingxin was about to lose his mind. He leaned down to kiss her, but she dodged: “You haven’t told me how you want me to help you yet. No kisses.”
He pressed against her, desperate—anything, anything she gave would be enough.
She was rarely this way with him—even using her hands was a grace. He wasn’t a good person, but Jiang Nong was—and yet she was only bad to him. Knowing he loved her to death and still teasing him—she was pretty wicked too.
But he loved it.
Was there some law against a wife training her husband?
He was willing. More than willing.
Jiang Nong pressed her legs together, slowly, kissing his lips, his cheeks, his chin, his neck—and if Yu Lingxin dared move, she’d swat him. She asked, playfully cruel: “Didn’t you want Sister to help you? Why aren’t you being good? Don’t you want my help anymore?”
Yu Lingxin was drenched in sweat, his Adam’s apple bobbing, his brows dark. He looked up at her, his purple eyes churning with a deep sea of desire, full of wanting—like he could devour her whole. Jiang Nong shuddered under his gaze.
He breathed against her hand, his brow furrowed, eyes closed—showing her he’d be good.
Even looking so fierce, so ruled by desire, he was still her best-behaved puppy.
Her heart softened. She kissed him, leaned close to his ear, and whispered: “Then I’ll give you a reward.”
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