Chapter 43

11:00 PM (1)

Xu Muzi took a moment to process Deng Yun’s words. Just as she began to contemplate the meaning of “my inn,” his kisses fell softly on her ear and neck…

He was teasing, deliberately giving her no time to think.

The earlier, unsuccessful attempts felt like a rehearsal; this time, she accepted the pleasure of his touch with ease.

She trembled slightly, especially when his hand moved away from her elbow, slipped under her shirt, and wrapped around her waist.

Thankfully, it wasn’t as intense as before—only her eyelashes quivered gently.

He slipped off her T-shirt and leaned in closer, while her mind was engulfed by a warm, dizzying intoxication that exploded within her…

She had softly asked him what he had taken out of the bedside drawer.

The plastic wrapping was torn open.

They left the light on. Xu Muzi tried to look down, but her view was blocked as Deng Yun kissed her lips.

Xu Muzi wasn’t able to be on top; she didn’t know how and eventually lay down.

Her long hair spread across the pillow, and he helped push it aside, propping himself on his elbow beside her ear, kissing her with a deep sincerity.

The kiss felt wonderful.

Like discovering a small pot of gently simmering soup on a cold, rainy day when you’re starving.

All her lingering desires seemed to be satisfied in that passionate kiss, and yet more “wants” rose from within her.

Desire and longing intertwined, flowing steadily within her chest.

He was patient, attentive to what she could bear, adjusting his pace accordingly.

This consideration seemed to be a torment for him. She felt the warmth of his sweat falling onto her chest.

Under Deng Yun’s comforting kisses, Xu Muzi gradually relaxed, even her lashes stopped trembling.

Her hand sank into the soft pillow, adapting as beads of sweat formed on her forehead, her skin brushing against the smooth sheets.

Xu Muzi held back her whispers, biting her lip stubbornly, her mind clouded as she thought:

She had just forgotten to remind Deng Yun to turn off the warm air on the air conditioner.

Deng Yun was so particular—did he even bring his own set of bedding with him?

Oh…wait…this seems to be Deng Yun’s inn…

Wait…Deng Yun’s inn?

Her damp palms tightened, her heart rising and falling slowly, like the tide drawn by the moon, submerging her last remnants of thought.

Deng Yun, too, had moments when he lost control.

His gentleness, restraint, and patience—all of these vanished in an instant when Xu Muzi, with furrowed brows, let out a muffled moan she couldn’t suppress.

Xu Muzi might have told Deng Yun to go gentler, but in the end, she couldn’t manage to say anything at all.

All she could do was shake her head, curl up, hold his hand tightly, and call out his name, “Deng Yun”…

The night rain fell softly, the floor lamp glowed quietly.

The coral-pink London Eye flower bloomed, revealing its pale green button-like center; the lighter that had been knocked over in the dark still lay on the floor.

Xu Muzi lay nestled in his arms, resting her sweaty chin on Deng Yun’s shoulder, her heartbeat gradually calming.

The weightless feeling of ignoring all senses faded, and her five senses slowly returned. She could hear the rain again, sometime after eleven.

Xu Muzi was exhausted.

When she was younger, she didn’t practice the piano properly; she would peek at the TV from the doorway. In some movie or show, she had heard of a martial arts move called “Soft Bone Palm.”

Maybe this was what it felt like—to have every bone in her body turn into soft cotton candy, her eyelids growing heavy, until she drifted off to sleep in exhaustion.

But maybe her nerves were too stimulated, as her sleep was light, and her body would occasionally twitch, bringing fragments of memories into her dreams.

Moments like Deng Yun’s arm supporting her waist, their chins brushing as they kissed, and standing in the bathroom afterward, her hand on his wrist as warm water cascaded over them.

Or even before it all began, when he said, “My inn.”

Xu Muzi dozed lightly, and when she awoke, the computer screen showed it was not yet midnight.

The floor lamp was dimmed to the lowest setting, casting a soft glow. As she opened her eyes, she saw Deng Yun’s face close by.

Her mind was hazy, reminiscing about Deng Yun’s intense expression. Gradually, as she came to, her scattered thoughts began to connect, piecing together the clues she had overlooked—

It turned out that Deng Yun was the owner of the inn.

Thinking about it now, it all made sense. He certainly seemed like someone who could create a place as cozy and mysterious as this.

No wonder Xiang Xiang knocked on his door during the power outage instead of going to someone more social like Xing Pengjie;

No wonder he knew her phone number;

No wonder, despite staying only a week, his room was fully furnished, and yet she never even saw a suitcase…

Her thoughts drifted, recalling a casual conversation from the past:

Perhaps it was before she returned to school?

Yes, it was the night she took off her turtleneck in his bedroom to show him the scar on her back.

That night, before leaving, Deng Yun had helped her put her sweater back on.

As her head popped through the snug collar, her hair a mess, she saw him chuckling. Embarrassed, she ran to the mirror to fix her hair.

In the mirror, she saw Deng Yun sitting on his desk chair, looking at his phone with his head down.

The window was slightly open, his hand holding a cigarette outside to let the breeze carry the smoke away.

It was the first time he smoked in front of her since they’d been seeing each other regularly. His expression was serious, almost unreadable.

After she fixed her hair, Xu Muzi tried talking to him.

Lost in thought, he put out his cigarette in a Coke can without responding. So, she moved closer, tried snapping her fingers but failed, and asked what he was thinking about.

Deng Yun looked up, his face brightening with a confident smile.

He mentioned he had some idle cash and was thinking about how to use it.

Xu Muzi, familiar only with classical piano, wasn’t sure what to say about it.

She thought he was considering financial investments, so she didn’t ask further.

Later, while abroad, she did bring it up, asking if he’d sorted out his money issues.

It seemed he’d found a satisfying solution; his tone was cheerful as he chuckled, “All settled.”

So, was that “solution” he mentioned back then… this inn?

And so, was it that guest with the username Creampuffs0319 who once wrote in an early review that the inn had been designed by the owner himself?

Or, as Xiang Xiang mentioned about the owner’s background, was it true that he had once been a top university candidate who gave up his place to deal with family debts…

Overwhelmed by fatigue, Xu Muzi’s mind was filled with too much information, leaving her thoughts momentarily stalled.

She wanted to make sense of it all quickly but didn’t know where to start, feeling as if she was missing a crucial piece.

Should she go back and look at the inn reviews?

Her phone was under the pillow.

She had tossed it on the bed earlier, but during everything that had happened, it had gotten in her way, and Deng Yun had put it under the pillow for her.

Xu Muzi reached for her phone, shifting her body slightly, feeling the soreness in every inch of her muscles.

Deng Yun didn’t wake up; he only felt her movement and tightened his arm around her waist a little.

His sleeping face was handsome.

His long eyelashes rested peacefully, his nose was sharp, and his lips looked very kissable.

There was a faint bruise on his neck—a mark she had accidentally left when she scratched him in her initial panic as he moved closer.

Looking at that light mark, something suddenly clicked for her.

A review had mentioned that the inn was originally intended as a gift from the owner.

And the innkeeper had once planted roses with the flower language of “first love.”

There was even a mysterious music room in the inn, closed off to guests.

So… was this inn intended as a gift for her?

Was it fair for her to think that way?

If so, what kind of situation had led him to plan such a gift for her?

It couldn’t have been after they’d lost contact.

Maybe it was self-centered to think that way.

But…

Her phone lit up as she held it, its screen touching her skin.

Two unread messages were received before they were together.

The messages were from an unknown number she hadn’t saved a name for. She opened them: two photos.

The first was of an unfamiliar music room.

It was beautiful, decorated in vintage wood tones. The high and low cabinets against the wall were adorned with crystal vases, filled with flowers so vibrant she could almost smell their fragrance through the screen.

The second was of a blooming rose garden.

Under bright sunlight, a large patch of coral-pink London Eye flowers spread out, stunning like an oil painting. Greenery flourished, and in a corner, an orange cat perched on the inn’s windowsill.

Since the photos were sent to her…

It was clear for whom the inn was intended.

The man sleeping beside her was proud and never spoke of his struggles. That year, Xu Muzi had assumed Deng Yun forgot her birthday.

He didn’t defend himself.

She thought her only birthday gift was the expensive dress but would never have guessed there was more—this place.

A few hours ago, they had shared their thoughts in this room.

Deng Yun had simply said, “I wanted to hold you then, but I couldn’t.”

But I couldn’t.

With just those three quiet words, Deng Yun brushed over all the careful planning and feelings he’d poured into it.

Xu Muzi’s feelings for him came later, or rather, she was slower to understand them.

When they separated, she had no choice but to cut off the budding feelings, though they continued to haunt her, making her reluctant to think back on it.

But what about Deng Yun?

He had held onto more hopes for them, had put more care and thought into it. When it was abruptly interrupted, how had he felt?

Xu Muzi’s eyes filled with warmth.

A bit choked up and not wanting to wake Deng Yun, she held her phone tightly, trying to suppress her emotions, sniffling quietly.

She wanted to reach out and touch his nose.

Suddenly, her fingertips were grasped.

Deng Yun opened his eyes, his voice achingly gentle: “Why are you crying?”

It seemed there were many things this man hadn’t told her.

Xu Muzi couldn’t stop her tears. “Deng Yun, tell me about this inn…”

Deng Yun pulled her close.

He wiped her tears. “Why are you crying? Liking you, wanting to pursue you—how could I not make any preparations?”