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More Intimate Than Fingers Interlaced
Cheng Dingyuan’s apartment was in the city center of the capital: three bedrooms, one living room, great location, plenty of sunlight. It was also much closer to Lin Mitang’s company than Happiness Community.
Lin Mitang followed him on a tour of all the rooms. As she quietly marveled at how spacious the place was, she asked,
“Cheng Dingyuan, which room am I staying in tonight?”
“Of course the master bedroom,” he replied.
At that, she hesitated.
“…That doesn’t seem right.”
She had just moved in—how could she take over the master bedroom?
He raised an eyebrow at her.
“What, you prefer the secondary bedroom? That’s possible too.”
After all, a bedroom was just for sleeping. Large or small didn’t matter.
She lowered her voice, suggesting,
“Actually, the guest room would be fine.”
Though small, the guest room was already bigger than the one she’d lived in before, and she didn’t have much stuff anyway.
But he frowned.
“Guest room? How would that fit two people?”
“…Two people?” She blinked up at him in shock.
He froze for two seconds before realizing they weren’t even on the same page.
“You’re planning to sleep in separate rooms from me?”
“Of course,” she shot back, eyes wide. “Didn’t we make an agreement?”
They weren’t a real couple. Why share a bed?
“Come on, Lin Mitang. Use that clever head of yours. What if one day my parents suddenly come to check on us and find out we don’t even sleep in the same room? How would we explain it then?”
“But—”
“Don’t worry. I won’t touch you. It’s just sharing a bed. We even slept together when we were kids, remember?”
Her cheeks burned as she glared at him.
“You said it yourself—that was when we were kids.”
But… he wasn’t wrong.
Since she had agreed to help him secure his inheritance, they had to keep up appearances. Otherwise, how could they fool his parents?
She bit her lip, making one last attempt.
“…At least let’s have two separate blankets. That’s reasonable, right?”
This time he didn’t argue.
“Fine.”
She had brought very little luggage, so unpacking didn’t take long.
After showering, she hid in the bathroom for ages, building up courage. Dead either way… better to die quick than drag it out, she thought, then finally steeled herself and stepped out.
Cheng Dingyuan had finished his shower earlier. Now he was leaning against the headboard, working on his laptop.
At the sound of the door, he looked up, eyes lazy, and suddenly burst out laughing.
“Lin Mitang, do you know what kind of face you’re making right now?”
She awkwardly touched her cheeks, then smoothed her hair.
“What face?”
“You look like you’re about to join the Party with solemn determination.”
“…”
She was speechless. Did he say that on purpose, or was it unintentional?
Either way, the random remark actually eased some of her nerves.
She climbed into her designated blanket, back turned to him. Stammering, she said,
“Um… I-I’ll sleep first.”
Behind her, his voice was calm and lazy, making her seem even more nervous in contrast.
“Mind if I leave a night light on?”
Shaking her head quickly, she replied,
“No, I don’t mind.”
She was slightly afraid of the dark anyway, so she always left a night light on.
Soon, the large room was lit only by a soft, warm glow. He closed his laptop, and the mattress sank as he lay down beside her.
Her heart thundered in her chest, so loud it seemed to echo in the silence.
She had always been sensitive about beds. When her mother Li Xiuhua remarried Liu Jiangang, she had insomnia for half a month.
And now—she was lying next to a grown man. His faint pine-wood scent wrapped around her with no escape.
She thought she would never sleep a wink.
But strangely enough, that night, she slept soundly.
A dreamless sleep—until morning.
The next day was the weekend, no work.
She was woken up by the sound of WeChat notifications.
Half-asleep, she grabbed her phone, then jolted awake at the time displayed.
Almost ten o’clock!
She sat up in a panic, looking around—only to find the other side of the bed perfectly neat, as if untouched.
If not for the unfamiliar room, she might have wondered if the marriage and living together were just a dream.
Entering the bathroom, she froze at the toothbrush with toothpaste already squeezed out, sitting neatly in the cup.
After absentmindedly washing up, she shuffled out in slippers and finally spotted him in the living room.
He was wearing gray loungewear, sunlight streaming through the window, softening his sharp looks.
“You’re awake?” he asked.
“Mhm,” she nodded, then hesitated. “By the way… did you squeeze the toothpaste for me?”
“Yeah, just did it casually,” he replied without looking up, still focused on his laptop. “We don’t have much stocked here. Just make do with breakfast for now.”
“That’s fine,” she said quickly. She’d never been picky—usually just grabbed bread or buns before rushing to work.
But when she saw the steaming pot of scallop-and-shrimp congee, plus neatly cut fruit and salad… she was dumbstruck.
This is his idea of ‘making do’?!
The congee bubbled, fragrant steam curling upward.
“You made this?” she asked in disbelief.
Finally glancing up, he raised an eyebrow.
“Need you be so surprised?”
Realizing she’d overreacted, she hurried to explain.
“I didn’t mean anything else. I just think you’re amazing.”
Her eyes sparkled with sincerity.
“…”
He quickly looked back at his screen, long lashes lowered as he cleared his throat.
“It’s just congee. Nothing amazing.”
He could cook plenty more things, after all.
She sat down with a bowl, sipping slowly. Then she remembered something.
“Oh, right, Cheng Dingyuan—did I kick you or steal your blanket last night?”
When she was little, she’d slept restlessly and gotten scolded often. She wasn’t sure if she still had the habit.
He, who had spent the night pulling the blanket back over her, lied without blinking.
“No.”
Then, after a pause, he added slyly,
“Although—”
Her heart skipped.
“Although what?”
“I meant to tell you last night.” He leaned on his chin, eyes narrowed.
“Miss Lin, am I some kind of monster? Why did you have to sleep so far away from me? You left a whole no-man’s-land between us, wide enough to play chess.”
He clicked his tongue.
“Weren’t you afraid of rolling off the bed?”
Her face heated up.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
He frowned, clearly dissatisfied.
“Lin Mitang, stop apologizing all the time.”
“Oh, okay—sorry.”
His face darkened even more.
She quickly corrected herself, muttering,
“…Got it.”
And quietly went back to eating.
He sighed, expression saying I give up on you.
“You free tonight?”
She blinked, then nodded.
“Yeah.”
“Then come home with me.”
Her spoon paused.
“…Which home?”
“My parents’ house, of course. We’re husband and wife in name now. We can’t avoid visiting them.”
Lin Mitang had always liked Father Cheng and Mother Cheng, but this time she was nervous. After all, she was visiting as their “daughter-in-law.”
She wanted to buy gifts beforehand, but Cheng Dingyuan said he’d already prepared everything. She only needed to show up.
Still fretting, she dug through her limited wardrobe, asking him which outfit would be best.
He just smiled.
“No matter what you wear, my parents will like you. They like the person, not the clothes.”
She froze, unsure how to respond, and went back to comparing outfits in front of the mirror.
Seeing her struggle, he finally pointed at one.
“That one.”
It was a cream-colored long dress—simple and elegant, perfectly suiting her. On her, it made her look obedient and gentle, exactly the style elders liked.
By evening, they drove to the Cheng home.
Before knocking, he leaned down to whisper,
“Remember—whatever I do in front of my parents, don’t be too surprised. It’s all acting. Got it?”
She was just about to ask what he meant when the red door opened.
It was his mother, Yang Liuqing, beaming.
“Tang Tang, you’re here!”
Noticing the gifts in her hand, she scolded lightly,
“You didn’t need to buy so much.”
Blushing, Lin Mitang greeted,
“Hello, Auntie.”
Yang Liuqing clicked her tongue.
“Auntie? So distant. Call me Mom.”
Startled, she quickly corrected, softly calling,
“Mom.”
Yang Liuqing’s smile brightened further as she ushered her inside.
Behind them, Cheng Dingyuan muttered,
“Mom, you’re treating her more like your own daughter than a daughter-in-law.”
Yang Liuqing rolled her eyes.
“If I could put you back in my stomach and give birth again, do you think you’d still have grown this big?”
He groaned.
“Am I really that bad?”
“Of course,” she shot back. “Marrying Tang Tang is the first decent thing you’ve ever done.”
Their banter eased Lin Mitang’s tension, making her smile.
Father Cheng, Cheng Shanyuan, came out of the kitchen with the last dish just as they entered.
Lin Mitang quickly remembered to greet,
“Dad.”
He chuckled kindly.
“Didn’t think I’d ever hear anyone other than Dingyuan call me that.”
Her “husband” could only roll his eyes in silence.
He pulled out a chair for her and made her sit beside him. At dinner, he kept piling food into her bowl until it looked like a small mountain.
Now she finally understood what he’d meant earlier about “acting.”
Unable to bear it, she whispered,
“Stop giving me food, I can’t finish.”
He paused, then clicked his tongue.
“No wonder you’re so skinny.”
But he did stop.
Across the table, Yang Liuqing looked at them fondly, exchanging a smile with her husband.
The meal was warm and lively.
Afterward, Lin Mitang offered to help with dishes, but Cheng Shanyuan waved her off gently.
“No need, Tang Tang. Go rest, watch some TV with your mom.”
Yang Liuqing winked.
“Exactly. In this house, father and son always do the cleaning. Later, you should order Dingyuan around too. Don’t be polite.”
Caught, Lin Mitang glanced at him for help.
“All good. Go play. Washing dishes doesn’t need you,” he said simply.
Later, while chatting with Mother Cheng, the topic shifted to work.
“I heard from Dingyuan that you’re at Nanshang now? Must be tiring?”
“It’s usually fine. Just when it gets busy, sometimes I have to work late,” she admitted, then added shyly, “But I really like the job, so it doesn’t feel that hard.”
Yang Liuqing nodded warmly.
“As long as Tang Tang likes it. It’s rare these days to find a job you love.”
Hearing that, Lin Mitang froze, her throat tightening.
Noticing, Yang Liuqing asked quickly,
“What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?”
She shook her head hard.
“No… It’s just… thank you, Mom.”
Yang Liuqing chuckled.
“Silly child. What are you thanking me for?”
She stuffed a handful of candy into her hand, just like when Lin Mitang was little.
“Here, have some sweets.”
By the time the dishes were done, it was past eight.
The elders went out to see them off.
Cheng Dingyuan grumbled,
“Really, there’s no need. We know the way.”
Yang Liuqing waved him off.
“It’s just a short walk, what’s the harm?”
Father Cheng teased,
“And who said we’re sending you off? We’re sending Tang Tang.”
“…”
He rolled his eyes.
“Unbelievable.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Lin Mitang—quiet, obedient, smiling faintly in her cream dress, looking like a gentle little rabbit.
His tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. Then suddenly, he reached out and took her hand.
She stiffened instantly.
But with his parents right behind them, she forced herself to relax and follow, nearly tripping into awkwardly synchronized steps.
His palm was hot, long fingers rough with calluses, pressing firmly over hers.
Just a simple touch—yet more intimate, more ambiguous, than fingers interlaced.
He led her to the car, opened the passenger door, shielding her head with his hand, then leaned close to fasten her seatbelt.
Her breath caught, lashes trembling as she stared at his face so close—his lashes, the tiny mole at the corner of his eye.
And she caught the faint, intoxicating scent on him