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chapter 38
The room was frighteningly hot.
Xiang Feiran said, hooking his finger around Shang Mingbao’s, leading her down, and whispered in her ear, “Help me take it off.”
His calm and skilled demeanor was infuriating.
Shang Mingbao’s fingertips trembled as she lifted the hem of his black T-shirt. She didn’t need to exert much effort; he kept his eyes locked on hers, then shifted his gaze downward to her flushed and slightly swollen lips, and undressed himself.
On his shoulder, indeed, were faint bite marks she had left.
Xiang Feiran guided her hand gently over the marks, his nose brushing lightly against hers, and asked, “How will you make up for biting so hard?”
Without the barrier of clothing, certain things in his youthful body heated up with every breath and exhalation.
Shang Mingbao couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Although she had glimpsed it a few times before, this was different!
Her eyelashes lowered, eyes frantic, she stammered, “Fei… Feiran-ge, I need to go back… We have a curfew…”
But her legs were intertwined with his. The knee he was kneeling on pressed against her smooth thighs. Thus, Xiang Feiran didn’t stop; he just braced himself on the side of the sofa next to her face, saying, “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t go back?”
Shang Mingbao pouted, glaring at him with a mix of grievance and helplessness. “I said not to be reckless…” She mumbled.
“Not ‘too’ reckless,” Xiang Feiran’s voice was calm but firm.
“…”
He moved closer, his breath warm against her ear, and asked meaningfully, “What does ‘too’ mean?”
“…”
As he moved, Shang Mingbao swallowed hard.
The skin in his palm felt smooth and heavy, like congealed fat. Xiang Feiran stroked it slowly, his gaze deep and shadowed, asking, “Does this count?”
Shang Mingbao couldn’t answer, her teeth grazing the inside of her lips, looking at him with flushed eyes and a shy, troubled expression.
Her unspoken words were all conveyed through her eyes.
Xiang Feiran understood, his gaze darkening further as he kissed down her neck, lingering over her collarbone without pausing.
Before continuing further, he paused, his warm breath contrasting sharply with his calm voice.
“How about this?”
Shang Mingbao lowered her face, the sound of her swallowing clearly audible.
Surrounded by the warm, moist sensation, an uncontrollable “mm” escaped from her softening nasal passage. With nothing else to hold onto, she clung to his shoulder, her fingers weak and lacking strength.
Shang Mingbao closed her eyes.
The glass door leading to the balcony framed the pitch black of midnight outside. The heavy, ambiguous sounds of breathing filled the room, while her neck arched back, reflecting a pearlescent sheen under the light. She was overwhelmed, her body sinking into the sofa, her heels pressing hard against the cushion, her shoulder blades folding backward as if trying to escape, but unable to. She was pushed down even more forcefully.
She was no longer sitting on the sofa; with Xiang Feiran’s relentless advances, her back inch by inch rose, turning the cold leather sofa scorching hot.
Eventually, her upper back was completely suspended, her neck folding down without support. Her arms, spread out on the backrest, were gripped tightly by Xiang Feiran’s firm hands—she had become a flower deeply harvested for its nectar, yielding completely, with her pistil glistening with moisture.
Shang Mingbao felt an overwhelming sense of panic, her chest tightening as her heartbeat grew intense and familiar. Her heart felt like it might be squeezed out of her chest by Xiang Feiran’s actions, only to be swallowed back by her own anxiety.
Overwhelmed with fear, she began to cry, desperately pushing against Xiang Feiran’s face and shoulder.
“Feiran-ge… Feiran-ge…” Her voice, soft and tearful, pleaded with him, “Please, stop… I feel terrible… atrial tachycardia… atrial tachycardia…”
Her breathing was ragged, as if she was experiencing a recurrence of her condition.
Upon hearing those words, Xiang Feiran immediately stopped, though his breathing remained heavy. His gaze became clearer as he gently caressed her face. “Is it your heart that’s bothering you?”
Shang Mingbao nodded and shook her head simultaneously, her eyes filled with helplessness as she looked at him. “And…”
Her cheeks flushed, she hesitated and finally admitted, “My stomach…”
Her stomach felt sore and soft from being pressed.
Before Xiang Feiran could react, Shang Mingbao suddenly threw herself into his arms, clinging to his neck and crying uncontrollably.
She was terrified. Radiofrequency ablation was not always effective, and there were cases of recurrence years later. At that moment, her palpitations, shortness of breath, and heart rate irregularities made her feel as if she was experiencing a full-blown episode, with her chest feeling blocked, her limbs weak, and her breathing labored.
Though it wasn’t as painful as during a full-blown attack, it was still uncomfortable, and besides the discomfort, there seemed to be a wave pushing and enveloping her.
Xiang Feiran gently pressed her head into his palm, swallowing hard as he spoke soothingly, “Should I hold you and lie you down?”
Shang Mingbao, still buried in his neck, hesitated but shook her head. She whispered, “It seems… it’s getting better.”
Xiang Feiran was momentarily taken aback. “So soon? Are you sure?”
He thought it might be best for her to wear a portable heart rate monitor for a while to track her ECG over twenty-four hours.
Shang Mingbao felt her heartbeat return to normal, though the tingling in her veins had not yet dissipated, leaving her with a different kind of discomfort.
She was too shy to speak directly, rubbing against him and feeling her ears burn, she said, “You… kiss me.”
Xiang Feiran paused, then gently brushed aside her hair from her ear and followed her request, kissing her with less aggression and more tenderness.
After a while, his gaze grew darker. The knee of his gray sweatpants was damp, with a noticeable dark stain.
“Babe,” he said, narrowing his eyes, and adjusting his knee back a bit, his voice low and calm. “You got my pants wet.”
The sound of the shower resumed in the apartment.
Shang Mingbao, with shaky legs, squatted down, hiding under the shower like a mushroom in the warm rain.
She felt very embarrassed. Even after finishing her shower, her face remained flushed, if not redder.
She cracked the door open slightly, peeking out to command Xiang Feiran to go out to the balcony.
Xiang Feiran said nothing, quickly put on his T-shirt, closed the curtains, and left.
He found the situation almost unbearable, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag.
The snow was heavy and the cold was biting, but his internal heat remained intense. As he smoked, he absentmindedly looked at his right hand, which had just held the cigarette.
What had that hand touched?
He only had to think for a moment before feeling an intense heat in his abdomen.
Shang Mingbao, having dried herself, tiptoed out and searched for the pink pajamas she had worn when she first saw him.
Just as Xiang Feiran finished his cigarette and came back inside, Shang Mingbao was blow-drying her hair in the bathroom.
When she saw his reflection in the mirror, her previously pale face flushed red again, her gaze darting around, unable to meet his or her own reflection.
Xiang Feiran smirked, taking the hairdryer from her and gently drying her hair with one hand while lifting a strand of her hair.
Neither of them spoke; only the hum of the hairdryer filled the air, with the warm wind making her hair flutter by her ear.
Her tense body relaxed as she watched him in the mirror, observing his casual, focused demeanor as he dried her hair.
When her hair was finally dry, Xiang Feiran turned off the dryer and tilted his chin, asking, “Should I dry your underwear too?”
Shang Mingbao replied, “…”
“Go away!”
Xiang Feiran laughed softly, unplugging the dryer and tidying the cord. After placing it in the cabinet, he leaned casually on the marble sink and said, “Turn around.”
Shang Mingbao obediently turned around in his embrace.
Xiang Feiran gazed down at her clean, unadorned face, his gaze lingering longer than he realized.
She had a small, delicate oval face, the contours softened by her plump collagen. Yet her features were striking—almond eyes with a subtle upward tilt at the corners, a slightly upturned nose, and soft lips. His perception of her lips had become more about their tactile sensation than their visual beauty.
He loved her feigned anger, the way her expression showed her frustration and her lips pouted slightly. Every tiny, indescribable nuance conveyed a sense of cuteness, urging him to comfort her.
He brushed her forehead, still warm from the blow dryer.
“It seems like I forgot a step,” he murmured.
Shang Mingbao looked up, asking, “What?”
Xiang Feiran paused, his expression earnest. “I like you,” he confessed. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
Despite what had just happened between them, Shang Mingbao felt unable to resist his gaze.
Trying to break the moment, she asked, “Do you say that to others too? I want something new, something no one else has heard.”
“No one else.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying.”
Shang Mingbao’s heart raced irregularly. “Aren’t you… interested in that senior?”
Xiang Feiran looked puzzled, furrowing his brow. “Which senior?”
“The one you went out to see the flowers with in the evening.”
“I’ve only gone out to see flowers at night with you,” he replied seriously and without hesitation.
“I heard you tell the girl who confessed to you that you had someone you liked,” Shang Mingbao said, recalling the details. “It was outside the rehearsal room, the day the power went out.”
Xiang Feiran quickly went through his memories, sighed, and smiled: “They are the same person. The senior you mentioned who watched flowers with you at night and the one who was with me that day… I didn’t accompany her to see the flowers; I was helping her with pollination records—something her boss asked me to do.”
Shang Mingbao suddenly felt a bit dizzy, as if she were weightless: “Then…”
“I’ve never been in a relationship, Shang Mingbao.”
“But you’re so good at…”
Xiang Feiran smiled slightly: “There’s no real difficulty in this kind of thing.”
Shang Mingbao was genuinely puzzled, murmuring: “Really no one taught you?”
How can someone who’s never been kissed be so good at kissing?
How can someone who’s never pursued anyone be so adept at pursuing?
How can someone who’s never comforted anyone be so familiar with comforting?
Teasing her, provoking her, serving her through the fabric, using the palm and fingertips to attend to her, laughing at her helplessness, laughing at her indulgence.
His palm, made wet by her, still seriously asks her with warm breath if she wants to try again.
“You.” Xiang Feiran succinctly uttered a single word.
He lovingly rubbed her cheek with his palm, eyes lowered: “Perhaps, before you agreed to me, I had already had countless relationships with you in my mind.”
The night was deep, time to sleep. But even after searching everywhere, she couldn’t find a blanket.
It seemed… Su Fei had planned to prepare one for her, but she said it was just a whim and didn’t need to be so complete… Shang Mingbao knocked her head, feeling extremely regretful.
Xiang Feiran had already spread her coat out in his hands: “Shall we go to mine?”
Shang Mingbao nodded without hesitation. She liked Xiang Feiran’s bedroom, with its octagonal windows, red brick street view, the beautiful leaves of the nightshade plants, and that large bed.
Shang Mingbao directly put on her coat over her pajamas. Xiang Feiran looked at her for a moment and shook his head: “You really don’t feel cold?”
Shang Mingbao: “…”
No, she would also get cold, with aching knees…
“No down jacket?”
Shang Mingbao, confused: “No one in our circle wears down jackets.”
Like Liao Yunuo, who wears different furs.
And no matter where they go, they always have dedicated drivers. The wind merely blows past Manhattan buildings, and the snow just falls over New York streets, irrelevant to their world. Their world has the wind, flowers, snow, and the moon, but not the snowstorm.
Xiang Feiran: “…”
Politely nodding: “Impressive.”
He opened the wardrobe, personally helping her find a cashmere sweater that was still somewhat substantial. Shang Mingbao was instructed to put it on, and he then removed the down lining from his jacket: “Wear this inside your coat.”
Shang Mingbao obediently put it on, zipped it up to the top, and then wore her coat and wrapped a scarf around it.
When they took the elevator down to the first floor, the moment the elevator doors opened, they could see the snow falling heavily outside through the building’s glass doors.
The doorman, propped up on his elbow, was napping and was not disturbed until the wind rushed through the glass doors. He then woke up.
All he saw were two figures walking into the snow, shoulder to shoulder, casually, as if going out to enjoy the snow.
The snow was heavier than expected, clearly having fallen for a long time. The wind whistled through the building, making the glass tremble, like a ghostly wail, very frightening.
Shang Mingbao was startled: “Is this the once-in-a-century snowstorm the weather forecast mentioned?”
It seemed like a scene from a movie.
In such ghastly weather, there was not a single pedestrian or car on the road, and the call service was always on hold. The ride-hailing app showed a queue of over three hundred. Xiang Feiran tried several apps at once to call for a ride.
The wind was too strong, and Shang Mingbao felt she might be blown away. She was pulled into Xiang Feiran’s arms. He didn’t raise his gaze, and his other hand was still tapping on the phone screen.
In the deserted street, being held so naturally and firmly by him, Shang Mingbao’s heartbeat surged, and she slowly and uncontrollably smiled—
Xiang Feiran was really her boyfriend.
This realization suddenly and clearly hit her mind.
Her smile was caught by her boyfriend.
“What are you smiling at?” He pressed her head, “Do you find it amusing?”
“Nothing…” Shang Mingbao deflected, “Can’t get a cab, right?”
She could have had a driver pick her up, but that would mean going back to the Upper East Side. She didn’t want that.
She didn’t mention it, and Xiang Feiran also assumed it wasn’t an option. He turned with her: “Let’s go back first; I’ll see if I can book a hotel.”
Without a doubt, with the holidays and extreme weather, the entire island of Manhattan had no vacant rooms.
Returning to the apartment building, they shook off the snow from each other’s hair and clothes in the bright light and warmth of the heater.
As they brushed off the snow, Xiang Feiran suddenly stopped, slightly bowed his head, and laughed softly.
Incredibly, his heart was filled with a certain happiness.
It filled him so quickly and so fully that it crowded out the barren wasteland of his world, making him feel… a bit of pain from being so overwhelmingly happy.
“What are you laughing at?” Shang Mingbao leaned in, wrinkling her nose.
“Nothing.” Xiang Feiran patted her hair: “I’m laughing because you’re cute.”
Compared to the outside, the apartment was much warmer.
That night, they ended up sleeping under the sleeping bag he had brought for camping. Xiang Feiran zipped it up and spread it over Shang Mingbao. The sleeping bag, rated to withstand temperatures as low as thirty degrees, was warm enough for her to spend the night comfortably.
As for himself, he planned to make do on the sofa, even though it was only one meter wide and wouldn’t fit his legs.
He bent down, brushed her bangs aside, and placed a kiss on her forehead: “Sweet dreams.”
As he was about to leave, Shang Mingbao took his hand: “You can’t sleep there.”
The sofa was too narrow for him to fit comfortably.
Xiang Feiran sighed softly: “Don’t test me.”
Shang Mingbao’s gaze and tone were determined: “I’ll stop you.”
… Stop, my ass.
When a hot gun had brushed against her leg, she had completely lost control.
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