Chapter 27.1

“Anything else?” Pei Yu pinched Yun Yin’s cheek, this time controlling his strength.

“You tricked me into drinking medicine,” Yun Yin complained, biting her lip and burying her face in displeasure. “It was so bitter.”

Pei Yu chuckled and pinched her cheek again. “So vindictive.”

“Hmph.” Yun Yin glared at him accusingly. “You’re pinching my cheek again.”

Pei Yu’s large hand slid down to cup her chin, tilting it upward. He scanned her face, ensuring there were no red marks before speaking slowly. “So, what should A’yin do?”

“I hate you…”

Yun Yin’s voice trailed off, but to Pei Yu’s ears, it carried an inexplicably alluring quality.

“Hate who?” The darkness in his eyes deepened.

After a long pause, Yun Yin spoke haltingly, “I hate… Pei Yu.”

Pei Yu lifted her chin to meet his gaze. Her drunken eyes were half-lidded, her peach blossom eyes veiled in a misty haze.

“Why?” Pei Yu pinched her cheek again.

Yun Yin glared at him, her voice filled with wounded indignation. “You bullied me.”

Pei Yu stared at her in silence for a long moment.

Yun Yin leaned against him, her eyes drifting closed when a faint pain shot through her fingertip.

Pei Yu grasped her hand, lowered his head, and gently bit her fingertip. He held it for a few seconds before slowly releasing it.

“This,” he said, his voice thick with a husky timbre, as if steeped in wine despite his sobriety, “is what it means to tease.”

Yun Yin didn’t react. She simply stared dazedly at her fingertip, utterly bewildered.

Pei Yu hadn’t bitten hard, but a faint mark remained on her pale finger.

Before long, Yun Yin forgot about the bite mark and obediently nestled against the perpetrator once more.

They embraced, their skin separated only by a thin layer of damp clothing. Through the soaked fabric, they could feel each other’s warmth directly, unable to discern whose body temperature was higher.

Perhaps it was too hot. Though they had only been in the bath for a short while, Yun Yin already felt lightheaded.

She shifted uncomfortably, and Pei Yu’s arm tightened around her waist.

Yun Yin gazed blankly at him. Her fair cheeks were flushed crimson from the heat, as if dusted with a delicate layer of rouge. The corners of her eyes were also flushed pink, and when she looked down at him, droplets clung to her lashes, poised to fall, making her appear utterly vulnerable.

The moment Pei Yu met her gaze, his eyes darkened.

“Are you tired?” Pei Yu asked softly, holding her close. “I’ll carry you back.”

Yun Yin didn’t even open her eyes, just mumbled a perfunctory “hmm” twice. It was impossible to tell if she’d actually heard him.

Pei Yu grabbed a pre-warmed bath towel and wrapped it around her. Then, he cradled her neck and knees with his arms and lifted her into his embrace.

Her delicate health meant she couldn’t soak for too long without feeling unwell.

Yun Yin instinctively shifted in his arms, muttering incoherently.

Pei Yu tightened his grip, his voice low and husky. “Be still.”

Sensing the familiar warmth and scent, Yun Yin stilled, nestling against Pei Yu’s chest with complete trust, her cheek rubbing against his chest.

He carried her out of the hot spring. Even wrapped in the towel, her slender calves felt the chill of the night air as she emerged from the warm water.

A gust of cold wind swept through, and Yun Yin shivered uncontrollably.

Pei Yu, on the other hand, wore only his hot spring attire, his expression serene as if impervious to the cold.

Only when he felt Yun Yin’s trembling did he quicken his pace. Within a dozen steps, they were inside the warm inner chamber.

Pei Yu laid Yun Yin on the bed. The bath towel loosely wrapped around her had already come undone, most of it dangling over the edge.

He picked up the fallen towel, tugged the blanket over her, but Yun Yin, drunk and restless, kept shifting, exposing her neck, shoulders, arms, and calves.

Under the lamplight, every inch of Yun Yin’s skin glowed with a luminous whiteness.

Pei Yu gazed at her, his eyes deep and unreadable.

He sighed softly, a hint of helplessness in his voice.

He tucked the blanket back into place and turned to leave, but Yun Yin grabbed his hand.

She had opened her eyes sometime earlier and was staring intently at him.

Pei Yu stood motionless. After a long moment, Yun Yin pressed her flushed cheek against the back of his hand.

Unlike her feverish cheek, Pei Yu’s hand was cool.

Relishing the coolness, Yun Yin tightened her grip. Her damp hair fell across his hand.

Only then did Pei Yu remember he had been about to fetch the hairdryer to dry her hair.

He leaned down, gently tried to free his hand. Before Yun Yin could frown, he instead stroked her cheek and whispered soothingly, “Be good.”

While Yun Yin was still dazed, he slipped away.

Yun Yin lay in bed, staring blankly as Pei Yu disappeared from her sight.

She had no idea where he was going. Only a crushing sense of abandonment washed over her. Helpless against this sudden wave of emotion, her eyes reddened, as if tears were about to spill.

A few minutes later, Pei Yu returned with a hairdryer and found her like this.

He strode to the bedside, his brow furrowed deeply. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

Yun Yin looked at him but didn’t answer his question. Instead, she mumbled, “Where did you go?”

“I went to get the hairdryer,” Pei Yu said, taking her hand. His dark eyes softened as he focused on her. “You’ll catch a cold if you sleep with wet hair.”

His warmth spread through her skin to her fingertips, slowly calming her anxiety. Still, she pressed her lips together, her expression remaining aggrieved.

“I thought you’d left,” she whispered, curled up under the covers like a small, insecure animal licking its wounds in solitude.

Pei Yu’s heart trembled.

After a moment, he gently lifted her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. Their palms pressed together, intimate and inseparable.

The alcohol had clouded Yun Yin’s mind, leaving her unable to react quickly.

She stared blankly at their intertwined hands, completely bewildered.

She didn’t understand what it meant.

All she knew was that her heart was racing, like the prelude to a medical episode.

Yet this felt different.

It was a sensation she had never experienced before.

Yun Yin sat up in bed, clutching her chest. Unable to articulate what she was feeling, she turned to Pei Yu for help.

“My heart is beating so fast,” she said.

Pei Yu immediately tensed. Seeing no other signs of distress, he steadied himself and asked, “Is your heart hurting?”

He moved to get her medication.

Yun Yin stopped him, shaking her head. “No, it’s just racing. I can’t control it.”

Her expression was one of innocent confusion. “When you hold my hand, my heart beats so fast.”

Pei Yu instantly understood. His taut nerves relaxed.

She didn’t realize this racing heart wasn’t just a symptom of her condition, but also…

A sign of infatuation.

He tightened his grip on Yun Yin’s hand, subtly coaxing her further. “Do you dislike Pei Yu?”

Yun Yin shook her head, silent, only repeating his name:

“Pei Yu.”

She gripped his hand tightly, her clear peach blossom eyes betraying a dependence she herself hadn’t realized.

Meeting his gaze, Pei Yu momentarily lost himself.

“Why did you choose Pei Yu?” he asked.

The question slowly registered in Yun Yin’s mind, but she couldn’t resist the overwhelming drowsiness. She gave up trying to think.

“I want to sleep,” she mumbled, already trying to lie down.

Pei Yu didn’t press further. “Let me finish drying your hair first,” he said.

He plugged in the hairdryer and let Yun Yin rest her head on his lap.

The steady whoosh of the dryer lulled Yun Yin into a deep sleep within minutes.

When her hair was nearly dry, Pei Yu put away the hairdryer and gazed at the sleeping Yun Yin, his eyes lingering on her for a long time.

Listening to her even breathing, his fingers twitched. He gently pressed his fingertips against her wrist, feeling the steady pulse beneath her skin.

In the end, Pei Yu never got his answer.

But at that moment, no answer mattered.

All that mattered was Yun Yin, right here, right now.

The cherry wine had little alcoholic taste, but its aftereffects were surprisingly strong.

The next morning, Yun Yin woke up with a lingering fogginess in her head and a lack of energy.

So that really was alcohol, she thought. I thought it was just regular cherry juice.

Yun Yin sat up. The room was empty. Just as she was about to lie back down, someone pushed the door open.

She instinctively looked up. A man’s voice drifted in lazily: “Awake?”

Yun Yin murmured a languid “Mmm.”

Her voice was uncharacteristically husky, lacking its usual clear tone.

Leaning against the headboard, her long, raven hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her peach blossom eyes were half-closed, like a begonia still drowsy from spring slumber.

Pei Yu approached her and gently brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Feeling unwell?” he asked softly.

“Just a bit dizzy,” Yun Yin replied, her eyelids already drooping.

“Want something to eat?” Pei Yu’s voice was unusually gentle.

Yun Yin shook her head. “No appetite.”

Pei Yu withdrew his hand, studying her for a moment. “Still sneaking drinks?”

“…”

Yun Yin defended herself: “I thought it was cherry juice.”

The sweet and tangy flavor was nothing like she’d imagined alcohol would taste.

No wonder she couldn’t tell the difference.

“Do you remember anything you said when you were drunk?” Pei Yu suddenly changed the subject.

What did I say?

Yun Yin closed her eyes, straining to recall what she might have said while intoxicated that would prompt Pei Yu to bring it up.

This was her first time being drunk. She had no idea what she was like when drunk.

After a long while, Yun Yin managed to recall a few fragments. She had said:

“Pei Yu, don’t bully me.”

“Pei Yu, I hate you.”

“Pei Yu…”

Each sentence was an accusation against Pei Yu.

She couldn’t remember anything else.